The Shadow of the Mountain

     Besides the heavy trudge of his slow feet, everything was quiet. No howling winds, no far off cries of mysterious animals. Just the slow, painful movement of the young man through the shin-deep snow. At times he stopped, and fancied he could hear the snow softly patter upon itself. It was a very beautiful sound, especially now that he stopped feeling the bitter cold on his unprotected ears. He had been moving sluggishly through the snow for the past several hours, with meager protections against the cold and his supplies forgotten.
     One step, then another. A scrap of sense in him wondered where he was going. Was it... yes, it was uphill. He had been moving for the past day up the mountain away from civilization. Why? Did it matter? In his head he'd had this constant image of a soft bed alarmingly close to a raging fire, a dubious find in the upper reaches of this such a mountain. Was it possible that someone might find him, that a helicopter might appear dramatically above him or a buzzing snowmobile might be approaching, might fly over that next snowdrift? To take him back to civilization, back to warm beds and noise and happy, chattering people, wondering about what could have happened to him up on this too quiet, freezing mountain, asking about Dana...
     As the methodical stepping had become a routine, his mind went round and round like a caged squirrel. But it all drifted back to Dana. Sweet little Dana, determined, mousy little Dana. In her mind, forever underestimated and overprotected and considered to young for this and that, especially by her overbearing big brother. But why, she would pout, could she not accompany him on a mountain scaling trip? She was extremely capable, and if her big older brother could go on his own, then surely she could aid him. After all, she could only be an assistance! And to keep him company in that cold, harsh landscape- it was too much for him. Despite the protests of their mother, she eventually came, making it their first ever solo trip. Dana was so excited, and they made quick work farther and farther up than they had ever gone before, out where there was no outside contact or ways to replenish their dwindling supplies. And now...
     No! He couldn't think like that. She had to die. It was most certainly not a matter of his choice. She was so cold, so desperate, and so pained that he had to. She would have wasted away and died right before him, but instead it was pleasant and peaceful; just the last of the warm, sweet hot cocoa with a healthy amount of dissolved aspirin mixed in. It was painful, yes, but only for him.
     No! hissed that strangely detached inner voice of guilt. She would have made it! It was you who is the weak one! You who couldn't stand to watch her suffer! "No," he mumbled aloud. He couldn't think like that. What was done was done. But the guilt continued mercilessly. Dana was a survivor, much more so than you! She would have made it! She would not have left the supplies, however few they were! And she would have the sense to STOP WALKING UPHILL- Good lord, was he still doing that? He stopped walking and fell to his knees. Was there any point in going on?
     He stood up and continued walking, not because of some deep inner urging, but that the pain and exhaustion was so dull and so numb at this point that it was easier than changing his postition. The snow was thicker now, and trees and such became blurs. Something to his right scampered past him- Dana! Yes, it was Dana, rushing down the staircase, making a lot of noise, running around the corner into the living room, sqealing with delight at the pile of presents covered with pine needles. He follows at a slower pace, telling her to wait for their parents. She slows and stops, but temptation leads her to grab the nearest one, a fat one with patterns of cheerful snowmen. As she rips through the paper like an animal, he chuckles mildly and looks away. There is a window revealing a snowy lawn, and before the window is a squat little fireplace with the remnants of a toasty fire. A hot fire...too much snow...burning-
     Something jarred him back to reality, or rather, the white, quiet, ethereal world of seemingly no end or beginning. There was nothing here, just snow and dark, snow covered masses. Nothing, but yet... There, in the distance, something appeared. It was something that didn't match the surroundings. It was white and therefore barely visible, but a flow of darkness on top distinguished it. He approached it, but at the same time, he realized quite calmly that it was approaching him as well. Or rather, she was approaching him.
     She had very long, very dark, very straight hair descending down to her breast. She wore a thin, fluid kimono of pure white. She was very tall and thin, and she glided towards him like a slow moving liquid. As she approached, her face became clearer and more defined. It had a pale kind of beauty, with her slightly parted red lips and large black eyes contrasting with her fair skin. It didn't change or falter as she came closer to him, remaining completely blank and devoid of any emotion. Any ordinary person would be terrified, but at this point he was beyond those kinds of feelings. He just continued to approach her, seeing less and less as his vision blurred.
     He could see her come very close to him, and he closed his eyes. As he did, she softly kissed him, but only for a moment, for he fell forward into the snow. And then, all was quiet again. Had there been anyone listening, they would only have heard only the snow softly patter upon itself. It was a very beautiful sound.