What sits on top of the mountain is unknown. Some think it’s a heinous creature put there to keep people away, while some think it’s a myth used to draw tourists. I believe it is something much less grim. My family sometimes gathers around the fire to talk about it. Nobody truly knows what’s up there. However, I've always been a little too curious, so I decided to go find out for myself.
I chose to climb the mountain. The big, tall mountain had remained mysterious for far too long. The climb was not challenging. It was only at the halfway point that I felt my time was being taken. I felt that the mountain had swallowed it. It was sunny, but as I continued to climb, it became cold and dark. There were so many shadows and clouds. At that moment, I understood why people could be scared, but I was still sure nothing was at the top.
I couldn’t wait to tell everyone about the trip once I was done. I couldn’t wait to climb back down and yell that it was a myth. I wanted to tell them that all this time, we’d been afraid for no reason. That was what kept me going. I have to admit I was naïve. That type of trip should’ve been more planned out. As I looked at my watch, I realized I'd been there much longer than I thought. It was as if the mountain swallowed up my time. I wasn’t upset, surprisingly. I was at peace. I was still determined to prove everyone wrong.
I continued climbing until I couldn’t anymore. Then I realized that I had reached the top. I waited for a minute. I waited for the creature or the mountain people. I waited for the gust of fresh air. I waited for the sound of running water or any sign of life. Until I heard it, a sound I had never heard before, an unsettling and suspenseful sound. That’s when I turned to see it.
I decided not to tell anyone what I saw on the mountain that day. I told nobody of the thing that troubled me for years after. I finally understood why nobody went on the mountain twice. I will never forget what I saw, but I will never tell anyone what it was.