I clip my carabiner onto the hoop as I scale it, its icy breath blowing on my face. 

I climb on. 

I feel like retreating from a daunting task, the sky's disappointed pelting of ice discouraging me. 

I climb on. 

I take a step and trip, I catch myself as the rock falls with a thud. 

I climb on. 

I hear the voices yelling, screaming, and talking "You're wrong". 

I climb on. 

I see it face to face, an unforgiving self in the reflection of the ice. 

I climb on.

I see the Summit is nearing and I hear the silence of the voices.

I climb on.

I reach over the ledge and pull myself up, planting my flag among others.

I stay there.

I take a break and look down at the challenges I've conquered.

I stay there.

I begin to repel as I realize what I've accomplished.

I descend.

I push myself down the mountain and see the reflection.

I am proud.

I hear the voices applaud and cheer.

I am content.

I step down to a foothold.

I am standing tall.

I get to the ground with my mind clear and fresh.

I am home.



13 years old

More by Tatum