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A small boy walked along the coast, following a path of dark grey lava rock leading back to his cabin. The sky had faded to an ashen color while he traveled through the forest in search of food earlier in the day. A lone band of sunlight caught the edge of the horizon, almost seeming to point toward his cabin. Yet, the light soon disappeared behind the rain-filled clouds, as if the sky was trying to patch up a leak in space. He continued to maneuver around the inky black tide pools etched in the slate rock surrounding his home. He once even heard of a rumor of another boy, who fell into one of the tide pools, supposedly sucked in as if the tide pool itself had turned into a whirlpool. Of course, such rumors where as extensive as the ocean itself, but whether to believe them or not is a whole other story. In his case, rumors where like a set of rules, and although some seemed impossible; he found it safer to just follow them. Finally, the clear shape of home appeared as he rounded the corner. He pushed open his backpack and pulled a key from the inside pocket, while continuing along the final stretch. Then, he checked the door to see if he left it unlocked, and continued inside.
Home to him wasn’t the warm and comforting place which most people felt, to him home was just a place to relax, and wait until the day would pass. Today, the cold feeling of approaching winter had penetrated the walls, freezing the clean still air, which he had learned to love. He took a breath, coughed into his arm, and retired to the chair, which he had earlier set up next to the window. He gazed across the empty world around him, everything was so bare and flat that he could almost look around the entire world and see the back of his small cabin. The only bump on the horizon was an island, yet it was so small that it seemed like the grey ocean was just going to swallow it up. The sound of rain finally broke the silence of his daydreaming, its rhythmic sound reminding him of how tired he actually was. He took one last glance outside, then pulled his backpack underneath his head and fell asleep for the day.
Morning broke, but like most days, there was no telling what time it was because of the darkened clouds. Luckily though, unlike yesterday, it was light enough for him to see at least 40 feet in front of him. He stood up and attempted to shake off the dreams he had during the night. After a little while with no such luck, he decided to walk around outside and let the air refresh him. The rain during the night had swamped the grass and left a muddy ocean surrounding the cabin. Cautiously, he stepped through the murky brown soil finally reaching the rocky beach. He noticed that the tide pools around him had also experienced the rain and looked more like ponds now. Seeing no way around them, he tossed his backpack to the other side, and waded through the black water.
The bottom of the mote-like pool was somewhat slippery because of the algae, which had accumulated over the years. But more strangely, while feeling around the bottom with his feet, he caught and edge, and found it to be almost bottomless, as if there was an underwater cliff in the middle of the pool. He decided to investigate it further, and walked over to the edge of this underwater cliff, relying on his feet for guidance. Then he kneeled, and swam over the edge, curiosity taking him over. While swimming to the middle, a force pulled him downward, which felt like, what he imagined to be a whirlpool. But, there was no rushing water or anything, just a downward pull, as natural as gravity. Finally, unable to hold himself a float, he slowly sunk down to the bottom. He closed his eyes, as he was completely submerged, wishing that what was pulling him would stop. After a few seconds, he felt his feet hit the bottom. The sandy floor felt strange since he was used to a more gravely sand. He quickly opened his eyes hoping to see what was forcing his legs to stick to the ground. Strangely, there was nothing, but what stroke him as even weirder was the fact that there was no longer water surrounding him, just air. He opened his mouth and breathed in just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, and sure enough, air filled his lungs. He looked down again and check his surroundings, noticing he was in, what looked like, a cave.
Against a wall were a white stone, and a wooden chest, engraved with curly letters. He first opened the chest, finding a yellowed piece of paper lying at the bottom, surrounded by the layer of the fine sand, which carpeted the cave bottom. He drew the paper from the sand, letting some slide off of it. A picture of the white rock, drawn precisely to every chip and crack lied on the paper, and next to the drawing were the words, it must be broken. He picked up the rock, with one hand while holding the note. Unsure what to do, he decided to worry about how to get out of the cave. The wall across from him on the far side of the cave was slightly tilted, just enough so it was climbable. He walked over to the ramp-like wall, carrying the items he found, and started to climb it. Quickly, he made it to what seemed like the top, but above him was a small layer of water, held up by some invisible force. He held his breath and broke the surface, then walked out the same tide pool, which he fell into.
He sat down at the edge and re-routed his attention back to the note. He stared at the writing for a little while, unsure what to do. But, he decided to follow what the note said; he threw the rock against the side of his house. The rock shattered into a fine crystal shaped sand, covering a layer of the soil. He closed his eyes and opened them again, clearing the dust from them, and then he waited, hoping something magical would happen.
Years passed, and the sand slowly spread through out the world by means of the wind. The boy never got to see what the sand would actually come to be, but stories are told that the sand grew, and the shards expanded, turning into jagged peaks and rocky cliffs. The once barren world had finally seen what a mountain is like. One specific mountain continued to grow, and still does, and at one point it pierced the clouds, letting in enough light to burn the rest of the clouds away. And now, to this day, the world still has these mountains and light, and the one mountain which tore the sky open, has been named after the boy, Everest.
- by Requested Normality |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 03/20/2010 |
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- Title: The Creation of Mountains
- Artist: Requested Normality
- Description: Just something I wrote for my LA class a while ago, for all or you who like legends, read this. I hope you like it, I based it off of the book "The Road" I went for a similar feeling which the book gave me. Also, i got the tide pool idea for walking along the coast of Maine, and in many places, there are tide pools where they are completely black. Some day I plan to write a horror story about it.
- Date: 03/20/2010
- Tags: creation mountains
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Comments (1 Comments)
- meep2meep - 07/25/2011
- Wow I really loved this story. Very creative. ^.^
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