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The Hill by Scott Mason


The boy sat for a long time with his back against the tree, eyes closed, enjoying


the sun. Large white clouds floated slowly past on their way to the horizon, while birds


circled overhead floating lazily on the on the currents, occasionally diving and then


climbing back to ride the currents again. After a while, he open his eyes and stretched,


gazing out across the hill to a path that ran straight toward the crest a short distance away


before disappearing down into the valley. He decided he would go and explore the valley

soon but for now he was content to enjoy the sunshine and watch the birds wheel and dive


above him. He awoke with a start, unaware he had even dozed off. He hadn’t been asleep


long, he thought, because the sun was still directly above him. The clouds continued to float

gently on toward the horizon in what seemed an endless parade. He sat and gathered himself for a moment and then slowly stood up and began walking along the path toward the crest of the hill where it disappeared downward into the valley. He stood at the edge looking out over the valley for a short time where a small stream ran directly across a meadow, and

beyond that the path disappeared into a large forest. He started down the path, having

decided he would go a far as the stream before deciding what to do next. The valley was

beautiful, covered with green grass and on either side hills went on, out of sight,

disappearing into the mist.



He reached the stream and paused to consider what he should do now. He wasn’t quite


certain where he was or how he had gotten here but he felt no fear, only an increasing


desire to reach the forest that lay ahead. After a few moments he made his decision


and easily hopped over the stream, continuing on toward the forest. Eventually he reached


the edge of the forest and again paused to consider what he should do next. The forest


didn’t look as dark as it had from a distance; sunlight filtered down through the canopy


lighting the path. After a moment, he began to hear the sound of birds among the trees


and feel a slight but steady breeze blowing through them. He looked around, again struck


by how beautiful the valley was. He had always loved nature and he felt right at home here.


He stepped forward and began to walk again, following the path as it continued deeper into


forest, forgetting any earlier concerns he may have had. As he walked, he noticed the path


seemed worn, as though it had been used often, but still he felt no fear or concern as he


continued on even deeper into the woods. Further along, he thought he could hear another


sound in the distance, different from the wind which continued blowing softly through the


trees but he could not quite make out what it was. He closed his eyes and listened intently,


shutting out the wind and it came to him. Water, it was water. Seemingly in response to


being recognized the sound became louder and he knew it was a waterfall somewhere


ahead splashing down into a pool below it.



He loved waterfalls. The sound always made him feel relaxed and allowed him to forget


his troubles for awhile. It sounded like it wasn’t too far away and he quickened his pace


as he continued along the path, anxious to reach it. Up ahead, the trees began to thin out


and he realized there was a clearing, a clearing where he would find his waterfall. He


reached the clearing and stopped to take it in and there was his waterfall, just as he had


envisioned it. It fell over a tall rock face, falling at least twenty feet he thought,


splashing down into a large pool that fed a stream that ran out the other side of the clearing


and flowed on, out of sight into the trees. There were several large rocks that he could hop


across on if he decided to. He sat on the bank for awhile enjoying the sound of the water


cascading down into the pool when another sound came and went so fast he wasn’t sure he


had even heard it. He sat quietly, straining to hear it again when it came back. Laughter,


the sound of children laughing as though they were playing a game, calling out to each other.



The night nurse was startled by the by the sudden, harsh warning tone from the room


monitor at the ward station. Springing from her chair, she sounded the emergency code


and ran into the hallway, joining others who were already converging on the room. As she


entered, two nurses were performing CPR. One turned to the doctor and shook her head.



"Stand back," he instructed the others as he placed the defibrillator pads on boy's chest.


She watched as the doctor applied two shocks and turned with the others to look at the


monitor above the bed. It remained flat, emitting a steady, mournful tone magnified by the


absolute silence in the room. Slowly, reluctantly, the others stopped their efforts. The only


sound in the room now was the doctor quietly confirming the outcome. As the staff filed out


of the room, she held back tears, not just tears of sadness but anger as well. Anger that any


child could be subjected to such abuse.



He stood at the edge of the hill for a moment, looking down, unsure what to do. Below


him in a field, children were playing, laughing, and chasing after each other. A girl suddenly


looked up and noticed him. She motioned for him to come down as she called out to her


companions and they too began shouting and waving for him to come down and join them.


At that moment he understood. Safe. Safe at last.

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1 Comment


Guest
Mar 30, 2023

I love this micro fiction short story. So beautifully written. So poignant.

i am impressed by your symbolism of the transition between life and death.

Congratulations Scott. You touched me.


Royden V Chan

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