Hidden Mountain

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
17 year old Jeremy Howard lives with his mom and pop, two drunks who abuse him. His brother passed away and now all that is left for Jeremy are the precious moments he has alone.
Please read and give feedback!!


"I sit atop the mountain, covered in glittery powder and surveyed the world. This is my time, these few precious moments where the world goes so still and soft in my eardrums. I clench my hands, working warm blood into the tips of my gloves. I can’t feel my toes, and that usually isn’t a good sign. I sigh. This is my world, my safe haven. I don’t want to leave. The trees whisper and shiver as their boughs grow heavier under their winter burden, and even the town lights below are muted by the falling mist.
The flakes grow larger and I shake them out of my hair, running my fingers through my thick locks. I keep it relatively long for a guy because the buzzed look just never quite worked on me. I can smell the pine behind me. I am even less eager to leave, and especially to go home. The trek is long, and today I forgot my large propane lamp that I’ve had for years. Although there is no official trail to follow to get to the top of this mountain, my steps have long since created a natural looking path. I’ve been visiting this spot ever since I found it, on the very first day we moved here. "

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Hidden Mountain

Submitted: November 06, 2009

17 year old Jeremy Howard lives with his mom and pop, two drunks who abuse him. His brother passed away and now all that is left for Jeremy are the precious moments he has alone.
Please read and give feedback!!


"I sit atop the mountain, covered in glittery powder and surveyed the world. This is my time, these few precious moments where the world goes so still and soft in my eardrums. I clench my hands, working warm blood into the tips of my gloves. I can’t feel my toes, and that usually isn’t a good sign. I sigh. This is my world, my safe haven. I don’t want to leave. The trees whisper and shiver as their boughs grow heavier under their winter burden, and even the town lights below are muted by the falling mist.
The flakes grow larger and I shake them out of my hair, running my fingers through my thick locks. I keep it relatively long for a guy because the buzzed look just never quite worked on me. I can smell the pine behind me. I am even less eager to leave, and especially to go home. The trek is long, and today I forgot my large propane lamp that I’ve had for years. Although there is no official trail to follow to get to the top of this mountain, my steps have long since created a natural looking path. I’ve been visiting this spot ever since I found it, on the very first day we moved here. " Read Chapter