*ATTENTION. If you see the 18+ rating on this book it is incorrect. The rating is supposed to be 12+*
The day my life went downhill was the day my parents decided to kick me out. And all my life I thought that I would have had to commit some federal crime to be kicked out but my parents proved me wrong and kicked me out over the most trivial matter: homework.
It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, I was eating quesadillas while watching TV, and neglecting my responsibilities. Everything was going well, my parents were in their room talking and I had no other family around to bother me. Being an only child is a blessing. I usually find myself having problems with my cousins and if siblings were anything like them, then I feel sorry for everyone who has.
Just as any other Sunday would go for me.
But then my parents blocked my view of the TV. Both stern-faced and arms crossed.
"What's going on guys?" I raised my eyebrows.
"Do you have any homework?" my mother asked. She was a middle-aged woman with a couple of greys in her thick curly black hair
most of those are my handiwork
. She had tanned brown skin and was a woman of short stature. A deep frown pulled at her face showing her aging lines. She was probably the scariest person I've ever met. She has little to no tolerance for my constant antics and yet she never gets a break from it.
"Only a little," I mumbled, knowing what a lie that was.
"A little you say. I don't believe that." my father joined. He, on the other hand, is a little more patient with me and does not become a banshee-like my mom when she gets upset.
"Well, that's the truth," I'm going to keep digging this hole deeper.
Stop lying," mom seethed.
"I'm not lyi—"
"London Bridge!" my dad snapped. "Truth now!"
I jumped at his sudden outburst and gulped, "I have homework. It's a bit but nothing much. I could do it in two-three hours at most."
"So. . ." dad sighed and frowned which accentuated the wrinkles on his skin.
"So what." I glanced at the TV and took a bite of my quesadilla.
"Aren't you going to get to it?" mom now had her hands propped on her hips.
"In a bit." I groaned in annoyance.
My father took a step back and took a deep breath. "If you won't do anything all day and waste your life away, then you won't do it. This has been going on for long enough!"
"What are you talking about?"
"You can't live in this house with this rude attitude and lazy behavior any longer. Your explosive temper and irrational behavior has gone on for too long. You don't listen to us and think you can get away with anything so we're putting our foot down." he sternly stated.
"So what exactly are you trying to say?" I raised the quesadilla and took a bite.
"You are no longer welcome to stay in this house. You don't want to change and we don't know what to do. You're old enough to know right from wrong and you need to learn a lesson."
"W—wait are you serious?" I baffled.
"Yes."
That single word made my heart stop. My face dropped for a second but I quickly recovered and acted as if their words didn't bother me. "Fine," I huffed, shoving the remaining food in my mouth.
I got off the couch and went straight for the door. Not looking back, I opened the door and noticed that it was raining heavier, so that wasn't entirely pleasant. Stepping out, I closed the door and stood with my arms folded. I angrily chewed the rest of the quesadilla in my mouth and waited for them to come outside and tell me that they were joking. My parents can be strict but I know that they aren't ruthless. I was confident that I would be back inside in a matter of minutes.
But half an hour later I was still outside, shivering and damp as the rains got heavier and the wind blew stronger. "Can I come back now? I'm bored . . . and sorry." I pleaded loudly.
"No!" they both shouted back almost instantly.
"Well whatever!" I snapped. "I can get by fine without you." I mumbled the last part to myself.
And I sat on the porch steps for what seemed like hours boiling in my anger.
I wanted to do something to get back at them but I didn't know what. My parents know me, my actions are predictable, so faking to set the house on fire or prank calling the police isn't an option. It took me a couple of minutes to devise a plan so crazy it would have my parents shocked for years.
This resulted in me sneaking back inside through the back door and stealing some things, including my dad's credit card.
I decided to go to Nepal. Being the very passive person that I am I didn't do very much. My parents tried countless times to get me into sports but I was always apathetic. Even when I wanted to do something they told me that it wasn't active enough or it wasn't considered a sport. Then I told them that chess is a workout for your brain and actually was a sport, but they didn't want to hear it. I prefer to do things mentally rather than physically. Like working out a sum in math, I could do the equation in my head but writing it down is just too much work for me.
My reason for going is because of the magnificent Mount Everest. I have always wanted to climb it. Many would think someone like me would not want to even leave my house, but I always wanted to do this after I got over my laziness. And in the heat of the moment, it was the only place I thought of
because the only adventures I ever got was watching Bear Grylls past my bedtime
. And so, with nothing but some comfortable clothing, the credit card, and some fake ID, I set off.
I took a bus to the airport and went to buy my plane ticket. I bought a connecting flight that landed at Tribhuvan International Airport and then went to the Tenzing-Hillary Airport. I learned that the next flight was in eight hours and so that was probably the most boring hours of my fourteen years of existence. I bought a jacket and some practical clothes for my adventure, some toiletries, a blanket, some food and a bag to put the stuff in. When that time came, I boarded the plane and waited for fifteen anxious hours for the plane to land. Upon arriving in Nepal, I bought and rented all the gear and supplies I would need. My parents aren't filthy rich, but the jobs they hold make us a pretty stable middle-class family.
I traveled by bus to get to the base of the mountain. I saw many new things on that journey. When I got off the bus I was met by a gorgeous sight of the huge mountains stretching into the sky and touching the clouds. The whole thing was delicately covered in snow, letting viewers see what was under it. The whole thing looked terrifying to climb. The jagged edges and steepness of the slopes made me rethink my plan. Not only that but the below zero temperature was causing me to have tremors. I lived in the tropics my whole life so this was a drastic change for me. I didn't know what possessed me to actually cook up this thought.
But at the base of the mountain, I met four hikers
that, fortunately, spoke English
and became acquainted with them so I wouldn't have to go alone. I had begun to think that this was a bad idea because after all. I had no guide or proper way of getting up the mountain, but after talking to them and hearing their plans I asked to go along with them and they agreed
which was a HUGE relief
. In the group, there were two guys and two girls. The guys' names were Garsia and Anthony and the girls were Miranda and Milan. Miranda was your typical blonde hair blue eyed girl, Milan had pin-straight hair, plain brown eyes and a petite yet fit physique. Garsia was of Latin-American background with his unruly curly black hair and tanned skin tone and Anthony, he was big and muscular like a football player. Wispy brown hair covered the bottom half of his face and he wore a buzzcut. They were all college friends celebrating their graduation.
After a while, we set out. The five of us were climbing for a good five weeks and we got to know each other a bit more. I learned that Garsia had come here before so he was familiar with the terrain. I told them that I was eighteen and that this was my birthday present. I also told them that my parents would be waiting at the airport when I was done, and through the journey, my plan was to somehow prevent them from meeting my parents. I learned many things about the people I was traveling with. The feelings of guilt still haven't left me for the pain and worry I put them through. . .
I'm not going to go on describing every rock I saw, so let me get to the good/bad part.
The day started out a bit unusual. The weather was colder than I've experienced and the wind was blowing harder than we ever felt it the force was strong enough to knock me off my feet completely. A storm was coming. Anthony instructed us to move quickly to pack up everything so we could leave.
When that happened, we attached ourselves by rope and hooks and continued to climb through the crazy weather. I was at the back and Garsia was at the front. Anthony told me he should be where I was but I denied and said it was ok.
But then, I sneezed. A snowflake went up my nose and I sneezed. And that sneeze caused me to slip and that slip caused me to fall. The rope that attached me to the others should've held me up, right? Wrong! It was as if time slowed down as I watched the rope begin to untie itself from the hook. I slipped, even more, tripped over a rock and fell. . . off the mountain.
Now, this was no peaceful fall like a straight shot from off of a building. This was a fall down a jagged, definitely not smooth mountain, I hit rocks and boulders and spikes on my way down so somethings were definitely broken. I heard the group's faint screaming but I couldn't focus on anything, mainly because I was falling to my death while a mountain assaulted me. I couldn't even feel the pain because my brain was trying to find a way, any way out of this. But in my 'final' moments I thought of my parents and how mad and worried they must be. Even though they kicked me out, I stole my dad's money, so they must be. . . furiously worried.
'Ok, maybe this was a bad idea' was my last thought before my world became numb, dark, cold, wet, and very very quiet.