Killer Hill
No! I had slipped, my heart pounded so loud it was like thunder as I frantically grabbed for anything. Everything seemed to have stopped as the ground under me slipped down the steep hill. All I could see were other people falling and the lucky ones clinging to trees and ferns. Some people were drenched in mud from slipping and sliding all over the place. The smell wasn’t as bad as I thought but that doesn’t mean it smelt good. Of course there was the occasional smell of gooey, sticky mud. One of the only other bad smells was the damp smell of crumpled autumn leaves.
I felt shocked like someone hit me off guard, I felt paralysed as though I was frozen into an ice block. So instinctively, I scrambled around for something to hold onto and pull myself up.
I could feel squishy, sloppy mud and dirt under my fingers being squashed like mashed potatoes, only I wouldn’t eat it... ever. All of a sudden the trees started dripping rain water onto my head as if taunting me, distracting me from climbing.
I can taste the damp moisture in the air left by the rain, with sweat dripping down my head into my mouth with a salty taste. I was thinking I’ll never make it to the top alive, which made me more determined. I made it and live to tell the tale.
K.W.
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