The Mountain

On, ever on. Up, is all I can think. Others around me, climbing as well. Onwards, upwards. When did it get dark? Where are we all going? Just a little further. The whistling sounds are getting stronger, more frequent. What are they? Up, farther up, then I’ll know. Will I? Really? Without slowing, I look around the barren mountain. Determination. We’re all going up. We have to. My foot slips on the greyish brown gravel. Another whistle. Have to keep moving.

The air is getting thin. I’ve never been this high up before. Wasn’t it forbidden? I can’t remember. Two whistles, almost simultaneously. Need to go on. Why? The mountain. It’s the mountain. It… no. No! The ground breaks away. I fall into darkness, the air whistling around me.