Mountain Climbing – 200th Post!

200th Post!

I was going to post another erasure today, but I realized that this is actually my 200th post! My blog has changed countlessly over the years, and my most recent change appears to be the most successful.

I’ve had this blog for four years, and I’m realizing now that I’m averaging one post a week, which isn’t bad, but for someone that writes as much as I do, I knew I could do better.

Despite being so busy with school and seeing my stats drop significantly since the first year I started this blog, I always gravitated back to it. I always kept in mind what assignments would be perfect for the blog and made an effort to post.

So now that I’m out of school, and I don’t have anyone to give me deadlines, I’m planning on using this blog to keep me on a relatively strict writing schedule. I want Come and Go to grow bigger next year, and even more the year after.

I’m so happy I never gave it up and I’m so thankful for everyone that’s stuck around since the very beginning. I never thought so many people would look, view, comment, and like my stories, poems, plays, essays, and erasures. Thank you all for inspiring me to keep writing.

I originally wrote this story on my typewriter, and I’d post a picture of it, but I’m still making tons of embarrassing mistakes that I don’t want to show off. One day I’ll figure out the margins. My goal this year is to write a short story with zero mistakes. Enough of me, though. Here’s my story.

Mountain Climbing

The first leaves were beginning to fall. Seasons changed a lot faster in the mountains than anywhere else. The wind was also relentless. With the sun behind the dark grey clouds, it was much colder. The tall pines swayed back and forth, knocking into the neighboring oaks that firmly stood their ground. She came unprepared — with only a light jacket that had no practical use — especially for the predicament she found herself in.

She knew she could get herself killed — the signs weren’t kidding when they said the ground could give way at any moment. The voice in her head happened to disappear at the worst possible time. Normally, it told her to be careful, to not take chances, but the view spoke louder than her intuition, and it would only take a second. Whether or not she was willing to admit she knew it was dangerous, she had to deal with the consequences. She was on her own; her phone was nowhere in sight.

If she could find her phone, she could call for help. It didn’t cross her mind that the odds of there being service were close to zero, if not zero. That was the point of the trip, after all. She checked her pockets again, and then for anything that might be of any use. Nothing. Last she checked, it was about four. She still had a couple hours of sunlight left. The phone was priority number one. No one saw her fall and no one would be around to hear her screaming from the bottom. The wind was picking up and going in the opposite direction of the cliff face. Her voice wasn’t strong enough to reach the top.

Her body, her left arm and leg in particular, started to burn, which was odd because it seemed like with every second that passed, it grew colder out. Moments later, she felt a huge rush of adrenaline that nearly made her black out. The mountains spun underneath her limp body. She realized everything around her was fallen rocks — no soft ground to cushion the fall. She hesitated to look at her arm, already expecting the worst. Instead, she told herself it was okay, that the fall was a big one, but she was alive and it couldn’t get worse. The feeling in her leg was gone, and she didn’t see anything wrong with that.

She tried to stand but the weight of her body was too much. She immediately collapsed, and instinctually tried to catch herself with her more-obviously broken arm. Her mind raced trying to decide what to look at first. She chose the arm. It was badly bruised and swollen; the arm was slightly off-center. It took everything in her to keep her composure, even though she was fighting back tears. The leg was much worse. It had buckled on top of itself. She threw up at the sight of the bone sticking out, and blacked out almost immediately after.

Her mind was working on overdrive, giving her out-of-body dreams or hallucinations about every moment leading up to the fall. One that stood out specifically was the moment her boss told her she wasn’t cut out to be a reporter for the local newspaper. She cared too much; she couldn’t let the tough stories go if there was no happy ending; she was letting her heart get in the way of the truth. His big, green eyes seemed sorry, but he felt he was making the right decision. She couldn’t be mad at him, so she turned her anger on herself.

The morning after, the morning she decided to drive up the mountain, she thought it would be best to do a factory reset and get everything in her life back in order, figure out what her next move would be, decide if she wanted to continue writing. She watched herself stare at her phone before ultimately deciding to leave it behind. No one ever heard of anything bad happening, and being in the mountain was’t an automatic death sentence. She watched herself look at the sign and not think twice about why it was there in the first place. So many missed signs. Maybe her boss was right about her.

Night was falling fast. Underneath her body, a pool of blood had formed, soaking through her yoga pants, waking her up with a chill that grew from within. Rain had also begun to fall with the occasional snowflake landing on her face. She was too weak to wipe them off. She decided she had to get out. Fuck her boss. Ex boss. She was cut out to do whatever she wanted. And what she wanted was to live. She wouldn’t let anything stop her. There was a rough path to the tree line about a mile away.

At about midnight, she made it into the tree line and could see the road she came in on. Her fingers and stomach were raw from dragging herself up and over the rocks and gravel that completely covered the ground. Nothing hurt anymore. Her entire lower half was soaked; she could faintly see the trail of blood behind her. It was like a murder scene.

It all seemed hopeless, even with the road in sight. There was no way she’d make it through the night. Whenever she stopped to take a breath, her body shook uncontrollably. It kept getting worse, until a light appeared in the distance. She knew it would all be okay and allowed herself to relax in the warmth of the light that grew brighter and brighter.

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