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I woke up today again. The woman looks down at her feet, up to her hands, her palms. Her fingers, carefully obeying the commands of her brain – a sign of being alive. She woke up today again.
What is up the mountain? What is there, over the hills? Looking up, in the distance, she sees the mountain she's been seeing her entire life, covered in glittering snow. Staring for so long, she made up the conclusion that she shall be happy when she reaches the top. She's heard about other people who have done the same thing. And they looked satisfied. She, too, aspired to be an admirable, self-sufficient lady. Where else should she go? There is nowhere else. You see, she's been sleeping and laying down for so long that the trees, the birds, and the surrounding area have disappeared. The sun was gone, and it was cold. Perhaps it was dark outside, but there were no stars to shine on the sky. The clouds took over, hiding all there was.
Looking back, in the opposite direction, she sees imprints of footsteps in the snow. Despite snowing for so long, they're not gone. What point is there to look back, though? She could go back if she wished to. She could follow the footsteps – certainly, she'll meet the person. But she won't.
So the woman begins her journey up the mountain one more time. Once again, she climbs. She moves her arms, her legs, one step at a time, going up. She is far from the top yet, so she acknowledges it will be difficult. It always is.
As she walks up, her thoughts and imagination begin to take hold of her mind. What is up there? What is waiting for me? Am I going to see a beautiful sunset, perhaps? Or will I see the beautiful starry sky again? Is there going to be a warm cabin for me? One with warm beverages, fresh food, and all that is good? Is the cabin small or large? And what will I do once I reach the top? Won't I get bored of the sunset? Of the starry sky? Of the good food? Of the warm cabin? Am I not bound to get bored of the same thing for too long? Whatever there is, it's bound to be temporary. What point is there for me to climb? I don't know what is up there, but does it matter if I know it's temporary, therefore pointless? So it is pointless! So pointless I redeem it! And truly, was the girl really wrong? Most of you, fools, believe she is wrong. You believe she is a fool, for her narrow mind, for her overthinking, for her poor motivation, for her pessimism. But what if I told you she was right? I am not insisting she is clever, but she is right. The woman is right. Despite living by the mountain for so long, and despite trying to climb it so many times, she knew it was a dumb thing to do. But what else was there to do? What else? So the woman slides down, down, all the way down, hitting the ground, once again.
It hasn't been as long as you think. It's been merely one week. But she knows it's going to be the rest of her life, from now on. She stares back at the footprints. There is no one. She stares at the mountain. There is no one. She stares at her hands. There is no one. But that was the best decision, was it not? Yes, it was. It was.
The woman closes her eyes and falls asleep once more. She hopes sleep will bring salvation faster. Shall she never wake up again – for there is nothing else for her left to do.
Never have I mentioned she's been a child all along. Not an adult, not a woman, but a little girl.