Mountain Lights

A man discovers in the last moments of his life what is truly wonderful.

                I lay still, ignoring my fate. Moving my head, I looked at my hand which was covered in snow, so numb I could no longer feel the length of my arm. I hated, hated, who I was simply because I did not want to see what was staring down at me. I closed my eyes and did not meet death’s glare.

                My mind flickered back to my memories. My mother had been right; I would catch what I desired. The thrill was what I needed whenever I stood foot on another mountain, whenever I hung precariously by only a thin rope. I didn’t desire this, I only wanted the acknowledgement. Now I would only receive what little glory there was in dying.

                Forcing my eyes open, I glanced around at the white and grey landscape. The others must be there looking for me. But I knew it was a futile thought; it would take hours for them to climb down the way I had fallen. By that time my world would have faded and I would have died alone. The fear gripped me even more than it did when I was falling, and the unknown became too much. Tears streaked down and my heart became twisted in anguish. With eyes that were blind with tears, I looked desperately for consolation. There was nothing but white - alone.

I cried harder.

                A mirage of colors came in the last few moments. I believed I truly wouldn’t need to die alone.  Then I looked closer, only the Northern Lights. Dancing across the sky, I watched as the colors of red folded into each other. They were nothing but a cruel trick that nature was playing.

                Watching them, my grandmother’s resonating voice came, “Souls of your ancestors, they are. I’ll join them soon someday.”

The mountains and colors became clear suddenly. My eyes skimmed them, the dark, shadowed hues of blue and jagged peaks of brittle nature beauty stood before me in all their magnificence. A single flower of yellow grew on the side of the rocky slope, braving all the cold and weather despite its small countenance. The green of the grass and the clear snow, they were there too. And the lights, their reds and greens dancing with the spirits, welcoming mine in their dance of peace and life.

                I gave a faint smile and laughed. I hadn’t noticed the beauty before, but now �" now I will breathe. It was a happy death, one my grandmother was there to stand beside.

                

Author's Note

If you could please give me honest, brutal critique that would be great!