𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 ℂ𝕝𝕚𝕞𝕓

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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."

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 | short storiesWhere stories live. Discover now