I gave up, I let go.

A story I wrote in French Class, that my friend wanted me to translate/re-write in English. The teacher said it had to involve the 'Andes' (the mountain chain) in some way and it was to start with 'I'.

I'm so scared. These mountains are magnificent and so breathtakingly beautiful, but at the same time, so dangerous. I am free-climbing one of the mountains in the famous Andes. The smallest mistake, one wrong move, and I fall. It's a nerve-wracking thought. I move slowly on the vertical cliff. One hand at a time, one foot at a time. I continue like this, paying close attention to my surroundings and to what I'm doing. Suddenly, my left hand slips from the rock. My heart skips a beat. "Stay calm, it's nothing." I tell myself. I take a swift glance beneath me; There is nothing but air for at least 25 feet, and then a pile of menacing-looking rocks...

The hands of fear take control of me. I try to push them away, but the more I resist, the tighter their grip on my calm. I feel something stinging in my right hand; a piece of pointed rock is stabbing into it. Blood starts to gush out of my hand, and the warm, crimson liquid rolls down my arm. The hands of fear are starting to play with me; Push me around. My pulse and my breathing become quicker and quicker. Adrenaline pulses through my veins. The throbbing pain in my right hand becomes more and more intense. It was a bad idea for me to climb up here alone. Now, finally when I need help, there's no one here. No one to help me. Just like always, there's no one in my life except for me... And now I need someone, anyone. My breathing quickly turns into hyperventilation. The hands of fear hit me violently once more and I fall. All I can hear is the blood rushing in my ears and my scream that echos into each cave, each crack of the mountain valley... and I land. I hit the ground, I hit the rocks...

Intense pain screams from every cell in my body. I know that I am broken beyond repair, shattered into a million little pieces. "It'll be ok. I won't die," I think desperately. All I can see is red. The only think I can feel, is the pain. I can't feel the faint beat of my heart, or air that is just barely entering and exiting my lungs; Only pain. I try to ignore it, but it feels like I'm on fire. Like I'm burning alive. "I can't die..." I realize that no sound can escape my blood crusted lips. I can't call for help, I can't save myself from this excruciating agony, from reality. Something inside my head clicks, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle; I'm going to die. "I know it's the end, why should I fight it? Why do I have to continue to suffer? It's the end. I'm gone..." and I gave up. I let go of everything, I let go of life.