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We give up our dreams
(Just to let you know, this is probably my third story. It's not my best, but I try. The prologue is short because it doesn't have to be at least three to four pages long. I like things short. I will only write a chapter a day. Thank you.)
"Sometimes, we give up our dreams to move on. Moving on is like growing up, and, in my opinion, why on earth would anyone want to do that?"
-Jared Allen
We give up our dreams
PROLOGUE
And yet the simple point is that these terrific forces exist, and always have; they are so
much a part from the interplay between weather systems and geography as sweet sunshine
and summer rains. Natural forces become natural disasters only when they get in the way
of human endeavor; danger is only danger when it is filtered through the human
imagination. There are few more "dangerous" places on earth - few places where it is
easier for people to die - than the high mountains. Pilgrims looking for God, miners
looking for gold, mountaineers looking for both: all have found mountains unmoved,
indifferent to their noble intentions as well as their base ones. Now, this story is a tragic
story; a tragic story that happens in almost everyday suicide.
People in this story are reprieved. Some of these people would be skilled, some of
them incompetent. Some would be lucky, others would not.
CHAPTER ONE: DIRT OF STONE
I guess you could call my loneliness the closest thing I had to a friend, even though I had
many. Some of them in my imagination and stories, others in safety and creation. How I
came to realize that imagination is a scary, hurtful world and oh so simple is that my mind
created monsters and trolls and deadly things. Fairies, beasts and unicorns. Dinosaurs and
dragons and poisonous frogs. None of them came to life, though, only the ones that
happened to live in myself. My creations, of course, called me scary as a monster under
your bed, and I didn't believe that such things had minds smart enough to make truthful
remarks so I didn't trust their prospectives.
When I found out that my family was some sort of evil encouragement, I decided to learn
more about the heavens above than the untruthful life forms down under. It sounded like
I was against my family, and I guess that sound was right. My family was hurtful, kind of
like our imaginations. They hurt feelings and people's beliefs. My goal was to understand my
family, and how I realized that my mother Satine believed in devilry works such as se'ances,
the more I stood up for myself and my beliefs. I guess the main reason why I was against
my family is that my mom told me a story about my little sister Margret who was one,
now zero and dead and gone. She had said that Margret was stolen my the devil and she's
held slave down under, and this is the reason why I stood up for beliefs in God. My
mother also said that God was a myth, so I fought back and said that the devil was once
God's follower, but she didn't believe such a foolish tale, which was true, of course! All she
said was, "Tommy, you're such a story teller, you have no intentions in this world."
Hurtful, I know. But now, not that I know that my mother is against my dead sister, all I
want to do is hit her.
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