Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS WRITER
The first time she walked this path it wasn’t this overgrown. Today though, the vines were tangled, scratching at her calves, leaving thin trails of congealing blood. She could barely see the orange ribbons marking the trail ahead. The heat was overwhelming, heavy with humidity and sweat dripped down her back, collecting under her pack, causing her to itch in places she couldn’t reach. She flicked away flies that threatened to enter her mouth, held open as she puffed, exhaling with the exertion of the climb. There was brief respite in the patches of shade as the canopy coalesced.
What she had forgotten was not the view itself, or the forest, that was always going to be preserved in images in the tourist brochures, littered around the motorbike rental agents down on the coast. What she wasn’t expecting though was the flood of memories that came rushing back as she rounded each corner. She could almost hear the laughter ringing from behind the granite boulders as she remembered running and chasing her sister along the path, stopping only to splash each other in the stream that bubbled along, mirroring the curves of the path. The stream was barely a trickle today, depleted at the height of the dry season. The cloudless sky showed no hint of the situation changing any time soon.
She kept going, higher and higher, the solitary effort uninterrupted. She hadn’t seen another person all day and for that she was glad. It wasn’t the kind of thing you wanted others around for. The Japanese had a saying that duty is as heavy as a mountain, but death is lighter than a feather. Her sister was light today, her being now nothing but carbon dust, but the weight of carrying her here, that, that was almost insurmountable. She wasn’t sure if she could go on. It wasn’t far now and the dusty path was clearer, less obstacles beneath her heavy feet, less chances to trip and fall, less chances to turn around and pretend that none of this was happening, as minute by minute she grew closer to the summit.
There were still two of them on this journey. They were doing this together, but her lonely descent was what was holding her back, keeping her from making those last paces towards the lookout. She held on tightly to the rail as she took the last few steps, throwing down her pack, off balance with the sudden change in her centre of gravity, pulling out the canister that held the last of her sister. She howled in to the void as she threw the dust at the mercy of the wind, greeted only by emptiness and silence in reply. Next minute it was done. There was only one of them now.