Three weeks ago a woman named Alison was hiking in the very mountains I’m going to be camping in. The newspapers say that she accidentally tripped on a tree root, and fell down the mountain, after she was startled by a chipmunk. I didn’t believe she was scared by a chipmunk any more than I believed she accidentally tripped down the mountain. I’d give anything to talk with Alison and learn the real story. Unfortunately this is impossible because Alison is in a coma in the Rockies Intensive Care Unit as a result of a hitting her head on a rock
Some people like my friend Kailey believed what the papers say about a chipmunk startling Alison. Others like me don’t buy the story. I believe there is something or someone in these mountains that wants to keep people out.
Five weeks before Alison fell down the mountain another young girl was hiking alone. No one knows exactly what happened, but one thing is certain, she disappeared. Her boyfriend got suspicious when her two hour hike turned into a three day disappearance. He went out alone and tried to find her but didn’t succeed. Search party after search party went out. Two weeks later they gave up the search for a living girl, when they found her jacket torn and streaked in blood. The authorities think a bear attacked her. I know it wasn’t a bear. My sister Elaine disappeared in these very same mountains. She had a cell phone with her when she disappeared. We were laughing about her latest date when I heard her ask, “Who are you?” I thought she was talking to me and started laughing, that’s when I realized Elaine wasn’t talking anymore. Elaine never talked to me again.
I finished packing my supplies and got into my car. Kailey just stood there shaking her head in amazement. I didn’t blame her. It must have been a sight to see me the girl every one said was too girly to camp, going camping alone. I had to, there was no other way. If no one believed there was something in those mountains, I would have to show them.
I found my campsite with no trouble. It was nestled snuggle between two patches of forest behind it rose the mountain. Just looking at it was truly a remarkable experience. With its pine covered slopes, and babbling brook gurgling down the side, it didn’t seem possible that anything could be wrong with this beautiful place. I understood now why my sister Elaine loved to come here to relax.
I disliked camping for another reason then just bugs and dirt. When I was seven I went camping for the first time. I loved it until night came. When you are outside with only a thin piece of material separating you from the wilderness it can be scary. The first night I was a little scared but fell asleep with no trouble. The next night I heard growling, and snorting outside the tent. It sounded like someone was eating the sandwich I had left on the table before going to bed. I slowly unzipped the tent door. There standing twenty feet away from me was a mother bear and her cub. I did the normal thing for a seven year old, and I screamed. My scream alarmed the mother bear: who in turn started growling and baring her teeth at me.
My father was sleeping in a tent opposite mine. When I screamed he awoke and rushed out. The mother bear killed my father before he even realized there was a bear. To this day I still have nightmares about that night. It was my fault my father died that night. It was my scream that woke my father and alarmed the bear. My mother told me it wasn’t my fault, but I know it was. And I will never forget that.
I set up my tent, and started gathering wood for the fire. It was going to be a long cold night, and I didn’t plan on going to sleep. My plan was to stay up all night in my car, while my tent had a lantern in it to appear as if I was in the tent instead of the car. I had brought a gun and plenty of bullets. I’d never even touched the gun except to get a lesson in loading from my sister. I missed her so much. She wouldn’t have wanted me to kill anyone. She was the nicest person alive. On weekends she cleaned up highways, and on holidays she cooked meals for people that would otherwise go hungry. Not only that, she was also a bear specialist. She said she wanted to help the poor bears that have taught her so much. I never did understand how she could love the very animals that killed our father. She was the one that taught me the difference between grizzly marks and human marks.
She believed that bears were often blamed for the murders of innocent people. She said that only one out of eight hundred bears has ever killed a human. Not only did she love bears they loved her. Further proof she was murdered be a human. My friends thought I was crazy when I explained this to them. They told me I needed to see a shrink to battle my post traumatic fears. I knew that this had nothing to do with my father’s death. That was why I had come up here to the middle of the Rockies Mountains alone.
The sun was already setting when I finished gathering enough firewood to make a fire. Already sick of camping I thought of leaving, remembering why I was here in the first place I stayed. My toes were getting cold from being outside too long, and my hands were covered in dirt from gathering wood, plus my head was pounding. This was not my idea of fun, but then again I wasn’t doing this for fun. I was here to prove something. With this thought in mind I started the fire.
First I piled the wood into a teepee shape, and then I poured a whole bottle of lighter fluid on it. When I first dropped the match on the drenched wood, nothing happened because I missed. The second time however, a great big billow of fire rose up six feet before settling down. “That should be good” I said aloud. I hadn’t realized how separated from the world I was, until I heard my voice echo off the mountain slopes.
I shivered then started for my car. I bundled myself up in blankets then locked the car doors. I know I shouldn’t have left the fire alone but I could see it from here and figured it would be O.K. An hour later the fire was slowly dimming; I got out of my car, and threw some more wood on the shrinking blaze. That’s when I heard it. First it was a quiet snicker then it got louder and louder until soon the only sound I could hear was the evil cackling of something high on the mountain. I ran to my car jumped inside and locked the doors. The evil laughter continued for about thirty seconds. It stopped as suddenly as it had started.
I put my key in the ignition; if something came at me I wanted to be ready to run. As I snuggled further down into my blankets my eyes wide open searching for the slightest movement. My ears straining to hear the laughter: which had disappeared. I waited for three hours; my car was beginning to get cold. I turned on my heater and made sure the doors were still locked. Slowly, I began to warm, starting with my feet. Ten minutes later my exhaustion caught up with me and I fell asleep.
The next morning I awoke with a start I had meant to stay awake, but hadn’t succeeded. I packed myself a lunch and loaded my gun. Walking toward the base of the mountain I felt a chill go down my spine. I quietly moved through the underbrush and pushed aside branches. An hour later I was halfway up the mountain. I stopped to eat my lunch, when I was finished I heard the same low crackle I had heard before, it was beginning to get louder now. I ran, I don’t know where, but I ran. The evil laughter was now so laud that I could hear nothing else. Suddenly it stopped.
I looked around I saw no one. Then without warning, a big brown glass bottle flew through the air. It shattered just inches from my head. I looked down at the bottle. The shards of broken glass glittered from under layers of gravel and tree debris. My eyes strained to find each bit of the missing glass puzzle. I began to gather the remains of the broken bottle. As I placed each piece in my left hand, I noticed the sun was slowly sinking behind the tree covered mountains.
I looked at my watch it was 6:05, “I’d better hurry if I want to make it back to camp before night.” I said to myself. I picked up the remaining bits of glass, and started down the mountain. I went straight down for several minutes before I realized I had no idea where I was. I looked around nothing looked familiar, nothing at all. I started walking back up the mountain to see if I could see my campsite.
That’s when I saw him for the first time. He was clothed in black from his head down to his feet. His face was covered with a black ski mask. I screamed. Then I started running. As I ran I could feel the shards of glass digging into the skin on my hand. He chased me and almost overtook me, when I tripped on a tree root and started rolling down the mountain.
As I rolled my hands got scratched and my legs hit just about every tree down. My hair was getting tangled around my face and throat. I screamed again, I was slowly losing oxygen. It was getting harder to see and hear. That’s when I saw a tree trunk directly in front of my path; I was still rolling, only now I was picking up speed. The tree trunk got closer and closer, and then the laughter started up again.
The first thing I saw when I awoke was a black ski mask lying on the cold dirt floor next to me. I screamed, and tried standing up. As I pulled my head forward I felt something running down my face, I wiped it off; it was red and dripping through my fingers. That’s when I realized it was blood, and that unless I could stop it I would pass out. I ripped the bottom half of my shirt and pressed it to my head. It was then I noticed I was dressed in a black shirt and black pants.
I looked around at my surroundings for the first time now. I was in a tunnel of some sort. To my left was a solid rock wall, and to the right another tunnel leading off into a black pit. I crawled behind me was a pile of clothes. I crawled closer to get a better look. It was my old clothes; wrinkled and dirty, they looked as if they were already decaying.
I decided to walk down the tunnel. If anything I would find a way out. I began walking slowly at first, then quicker and quicker. I broke into a run; sweat was beginning to pour down my face mingling with the blood that was beginning to drip back down my face. I stopped dead in my tracks when I heard the laughter start up again. It sounded closer now then it had ever sounded.
I quietly crept down the tunnel; to my left was a closed metal door with light streaming out from under it. I put my ear to the door and closed my eyes. From behind the door I could hear someone talking and laughing at the same time. Having no idea what lay behind the door I decided to open it. Now I wish I hadn’t. Inside the door was the most horrible, disgusting site I had ever seen. The smell of rotten flesh was mingling with the smell of dried blood, creating a musty smell that stayed in your nose and refused to leave. The laughter was louder in this room then anywhere else. Large black bats began flying toward my head. I closed the door as quickly as I had opened it.
As I walked away I heard the door opening again. Afraid to turn around I started running. Whoever opened the door didn’t follow me, and that made me nervous. If they didn’t follow me did that mean there was no way out? I shivered, but continued running. Suddenly, I hit a rock wall. The force of my body hitting the wall knocked the air out of me. Lying on the ground: and unable to breathe. My head started pounding again. Just when I was about to pass out, I felt two strong hands pick me up. I could not talk or open my eyes. I was at the mercy of whoever was carrying me back down the tunnel.
I noticed my head wasn’t hurting anymore, and I no longer needed oxygen to fill my lungs. I was beginning to fell light as if gravity didn’t exist. I still couldn’t talk or open my eyes. My body was beginning to levitate as if my inner soul was attracted to something far above the realm of this physical earth.
I opened my eyes, my head was hurting and I wondered why. I noticed blood was dripping down my face. Every ache in my body was back. As I tried to stand I noticed the tree trunk that my body was wrapped around. My arms and legs felt as if they had passed through a million needles. When I was finally able to move again; I began crawling down the mountain. Leaving my tent and all my gear, I got back into my car and began the long trip home. I was an hour away from the mountain when I felt something hard in my pocket. I pulled it out; it was a black ski mask.
So please tell what i need to work on, or change or whatever thanks
....it just seems more like a 'he' story...
lol
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