The Climb

“I’m so exhausted,” I looked back at Nadine. My hands and legs were smeared with dirt and filth from the endless hike up the mountain. I was feeling pain in every part of my body. My back started aching, carrying the heavy animal of some sort I did not recognize. Before the journey, Nadine had told me she thought it was a donkey. We both had such “donkeys” on our backs. I wanted to stop, but every time I tried, our owner hit me with a stick, which just exacerbated the pain flowing throughout me. The “donkeys” were socializing with each other while Nadine and I felt like we weren’t going to make it through the rest of the day. All our negative vibes were put into the looks we gave the creatures. They never cared about how we felt, neither did our owners. They always gave little square papers with numbers on them to our owners and then got on our backs. I never knew what it was for, but for some reason it made me really angry.

We finally reached the top of the mountain, the whole ride up, however, the “donkeys” were so loud and making the journey that much worse for me, and Nadine. The “donkeys” and many other creatures of whom I nor Nadine recognized, were exploring the top of the mountain. All we could do was rest before we had to go back down. My knees were a mess of blood and dirt but it was too hard for me to get up on my hind legs to lick them clean. Nadine looked worse. She was all cut up on her legs and she had huge open wounds on her back. I wasn’t entirely sure she would make it.

After about forty-five minutes, Nadine and I started back down the mountain with our creatures on our backs. Going down was always the hardest for us, especially with all the extra weight and pain. We never understood how we had to be the ones to carry them up. Why couldn’t they just carry themselves up?

Nadine stopped walking. I gave her a “why-did-you-stop-walking-they-will-yell-at-us” look. She just stared back at me and gave me a small nod and a smile. I realized what she was doing. I started to cry. Our owner came over and hit her, right smack on her big, gaping wound. I couldn’t bare to watch, I turned the other way. When it was all over, I saw her there lying on the floor with closed eyes in a pool of blood. I lost my best friend that day, and I don’t know how I’d be able to make another journey without her, again.

"Donkey Rides." Wikipedia. Wikimedia Foundation, 25 Feb. 2013. Web. 09 Dec. 2013.