A/N

Hello guys and here is another update!
This one includes Mount Everest, and I assure you that I did not intend to trigger anybody with this story, so please steer clear of it if it will upset you. It includes the overcoming of racism also. I used the setting purely for narrative purposes so please critique me in the comments if I get a detail wrong!

Do vote if you enjoyed! Read on!

Valentina

"Mount Everest has a zone that is known as the death zone, where not many ever make it back down again. I recommend you weak girls to not try." Our racist and incredibly overpowering teacher snickered.

The classroom convulsed with the tired breaths of our class. The walls were grey with dull green geography posters that our teacher had created to display his arrogant masculinity, and apparently his control over the syllabus. The windows were small and barred with iron on the outside, and stained so grey that you can't even see out. The desks were wobbling and in terrible condition, rotting wood evident on their surfaces. The chairs had stale bubblegum stuck to the bottom face of the iron, extremely disgusting should you touch it by accident.

Mr Porter paraded around the room full of yawning students on the Lino floor, eyes narrowed like a hunting hawk. He loved to torture us and tell us our weakness, and he still believed in a rightful patriarchal society from the old days and thought women were incapable of everything and anything. He stomped around us, watching us write, eyes glazed and in silence. His class was so boring and uninteresting and it completely focused on him. He was superior, he ruled over us, he thought we were property. Yet the school never prosecuted the man.

Ever since I was small, my dream was to be the first 18 year old girl to climb Everest and reach its summit. Mr Porter didn't know this, for he was sure to dwarf my dreams and drench them in his venomous scorn. He was a beast prowling in the dark, making sure none of us stepped out of the line he'd drawn for us. But oh no, this guy was not going to stand in the way of my dream. I would do it, and nothing, and I truly meant nothing, would prevent me from draping that flag of success at the very top.

I was the perfect definition of fair and moody, with long icy blonde hair, icy grey eyes and a tall figure with defining eyelashes. When I scowl nobody would come near me, for my eyes would turn as red as the burning sun and boy would they be scorned and bathed in my wrath, and they would emerge scarred for the rest of their existence.

Friends? I trusted nobody, not after they all mocked me for my dream, the bane of my existence. I would leave my previous life on top of that mountain as I come down from its peak, a refreshing new person whose dream had been satisfied. I would love to say that judgement was not something I cared about, but that would be lying. Those words have cut me deep inside and made me realise the scorn and incompetence of society. I realised that nobody would support me on this critical journey and that I would do this on my own, and prove them all wrong.I raised my hand. I didn't care anymore, not after my parents both died in the great house fire when I was 5. 17 now, I was built for Everest, yet in my mind's eye all I could see was the blazing house and the screams of the people inside. I could remember running away from the scorching monster, in shame, in weakness, away from the two people in my life that actually cared. I was small, and cowering in fear of the world back then. I wasn't brave enough to save them. I would redeem that. I would show them I was strong as a mountain and resilient as a stalking hunter. I would surge towards my goal.

Mr Porter raised his despicable eyebrows and nodded at me as if he was bored on a weekend.

"Yes Holly." I inwardly cringed at his smug voice.

"Mr Porter, I am hereby informing you that girls are not weak and that we can do things that you do." I stared him down and for the first time since the class got him his eyes flashed with malicious surprise. "We are tired of being under you, you are so racist that when a tide of your unfair and outdated words hit out eyes we black out with disgust and feel sorry for your stupidity."

Mr Porter's face was red with anger. He was about to retort when the class cheered. I clicked the record button on my phone and started to take down the evidence. I was going to take him down.

As he bristled the class's faces lit up like Christmas trees as they realised my plan. One by one they scowled at him and provoked him to say. In that instant it was as if we were one, as if we could reach each other's thoughts. We all had one intent. Mr Porter was never going to show his ugly face at this place ever again.

"YOU GIRLS WILL NOT CHALLENGE ME! MEN RULE SOCIETY! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!" He screamed in anger, losing his composure, just like we wanted. All of us smirked in victory. One more sentence left.

"Oh, what will you do?" I provoked him, eyes flashing with cunning, pretending to be scared for my life.

"I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL HURT YOU HOLLY!" The deed was done and his eyes widened with fear.
"Thank you." I responded calmly and ended the recording. Standing up, I walked to the door. Mr Porter was numb with shock and too shaky to walk without crutches. I opened the door and stepped out. "Good luck in court."

💙💙💙💙💙

I stepped out of the plane and my feet touched solid ground for the first time in 20 hours. I walked on stringy feet and refused to yield to my extreme fatigue. The whole Sherpa village was watching me, and I would not fall in weakness.

My 18th birthday was 2 weeks ago and I had moved out of my foster home. Ever since I defeated Mr Porter a year ago, I was well respected within the neighbourhood. My dream was still mocked however. But here I am, at the foot of the Himalayas, staring in awe at the snow that covered its surface, and looking down at the tree line. My dream was just within reach. Tomorrow I would begin my journey, to climb this mountain, and achieve my goal.

The Sherpa who was to take me up Everest with some others hurried to greet me, and nearly fell over as he tripped over a rock on the way. I jumped forward and steadied him, and he looked at me with a grateful glance. I smiled warmly.

He lead me to his humble lodging. My boots treaded the ground carefully, and it was frozen beyond what was possible for the rest of the world. It was an amazing experience to even be here. She was lucky.

His lodging was made of strong tin, with sturdy windows, a result of frequent tourism at the place. There was a rug at the front of the door and some haystacks near the house, where animals were frolicking and making wonderful sounds of enjoyment. You almost wouldn't recognise Nepal as a poverty stricken place previously unless you have studied its history, which of course I had.

We went inside and I politely greeted the Sherpa's wife and children. The kids were doing their homework and the wife immediately started to cook for us. I put an arm on her shoulder and she jerked away, aware that I was a complete stranger. Softly, I consoled her and began to cook the dinner, much to the woman's shock. She remarked that she only just realised that I was 18. I chuckled and continued stirring the pot of soup happily, humming a tune. She went to help her children with their homework and after the Sherpa thanked me he also went out of the house to tend to the animals. I was quite enjoying this unique family.

I loaded the warm soup into five bowls and walked outside to where I knew the Sherpas had their food. The family and I sat down, joking and laughing. They complimented my cooking and I asked them about the mountain. They were smiling and happier than possible. I was content that I had made their night.

I felt guilty for taking the children's father. After all there was not a huge chance that we would return. I would make sure their dad returned to them. I have nothing left to lose. I would just put the flag on the summit. It doesn't matter whether or not I make it back down.

With that thought, I fell into my bedding and closed my eyes.

💙💙💙💙💙

My pack felt so heavy on my shoulders and the wind screamed into my ears and slapped my tender face. I took step after heavy step with my shoes with hooks, trudging through the thick layer of snow and crossing glacier after glacier. The Sherpa placed dow ladders and retrieved them without fail, steady and reassuring every single time. He had been to the summit a few times, but nobody he took up there had ever come down. I was sure that he hoped I would make it down, as he looked me up and down from behind his snow goggles as if he thought I had the potential. I hoped to come back down as well, but he had a family and I had nothing to lose.

He climbed further and further, and I followed behind. I began to feel more constricted in my throat the higher we climbed, and struggled to keep up. But I thought of why I was here, and what I had to prove, so I kept going stubbornly. I dragged my feet further and further up Everest, reminding myself of the goal I set for my ambitious brain a few years back. I walked, treaded, forced myself onwards.

After three treacherous and dangerous days we reached base camp. All I had was some air dry food that my guide had brought for me from his village. After a good night's sleep we forced ourselves onwards towards the next camp. The gap between glaciers got bigger and bigger, wider and wider, until we had to hike across ropes to get to the other end. So many times we almost slipped and fell through the cracks to the pits of hell, but I was saved by the other man from every threat. I was deeply grateful for his presence and guidance, as well as protection.

We climbed and hiked, and gripped onto harsh wire that would have cut my hands if not for my gear. I winced and climbed on, throat perishing, eyes glazing, determination blazing in front of me. I was in pursuit of what I wanted to be. Of who I wanted to be. And I was going to keep going.

Day after day I climbed, my body lost weight, and my eyes began to lose their spark. I began to wonder if the judgement shaped my dream instead of opposing it, and depression was beginning to set in. I reckoned that my guide sensed that, as he remained cheery and optimistic the whole way.

I nearly tripped on pieces of ice, nearly tumbled off the edge due to the wind. I swallowed and inhaled hard, harsh air burning my tired lungs. One more day, one last push of effort. It was the death zone.

We scaled the last cliff painstakingly slowly, and my throat reached its almost demise. I was pushing myself, and strangely, I didn't care. My mind began to blur, and I nearly slipped, but reminded myself of who I was and why I was here. I held on for dear life and with a huff, the horizon was right in front of me.

My eyes widened at the snow swirling around me on the summit of Everest and gawked. My throat finally reached its demise, and I collapsed in a heap of pain, in a haze of terror. Quickly, I grabbed the flags I had from my waist and with a weak hand, tossed them into the blizzard. I watched it as it settled on the summit next to my now frozen body, and smiled to myself.

They were wrong. I had scaled the death climb.

The light disappeared.