1 comments/ 19477 views/ 0 favorites Son of the Mountains By: Munachi During those weeks I lived almost only off pain medication and water. Every now and then some marijuana as well, if I had the strength to smoke, and sometimes soup, which a girl from the village brought me, and which I forced myself to eat - I hoped it might help me getting better. The girl was short and burly, as all women of the village. Her cheeks were dark, almost black, burned by the merciless sun of the day and the biting cold of the night. Her long hair was plaited into two braids that dangled along her back. Above it she wore a hat that was decorated with colorful ribbons of similar color as her traditional skirts. Nothing distinguished her from other young women of her village, except for the fact that she, just like her father, knew a few words in my language. While I ate she sat on a stool next to my bed and smiled. Every now and then she got up and walked to the door, to look outside into the twilight. When I finished eating I was always tired and fell asleep very quickly. Hours later I would wake up, trembling and sweaty and with a vague memory of feverish dreams. Every night the fever shook me in my sleep. In my dreams I saw my boyfriend whom I had left back home - after an argument, he didn't want me to go away. He would always stand on a hill a little distance from me and look at me, calling to me. But when I slowly took a few steps towards him an inexplicable fear would overcome me, which caused me to wake up. My whole body hurt each time I woke up, and I would search for the pain medication next to my bed - the girl had brought me those as well. I swallowed them with some water, and maybe also rolled a joint. The rest of the day I would spend in a semi-awake state, starring at the dirty wooden beams holding the ceiling, on which a spider sat - the only living being to keep me company. However, it hardly ever moved. Then again I would glance towards the door that had been left ajar, to guess if the twilight outside was that of dusk or of dawn. Every now and then I remembered my parents, who by now must be going mad with worry for me. After all I hadn't given any life sign for at least two weeks, maybe even longer. I had no idea of how much time I had already spent in this village that time seemed to have forgotten. * Not even a week had passed since I had stepped out of the airplane, when in the market square of a small town, into which only very few tourists found their way, I got to know an elderly man. He spoke my language well enough to have a conversation with me, and told me that his youngest daughter was just my age, and that he had taught her my language. Then he asked me if I was interested in getting to know a traditional village community. This was the kind of opportunity I had hoped for and only two days later I was sitting in a crowded bus that was bumping along sandy paths next to steep cliffs. I concentrated on the accumulation of people, chickens, all kinds of luggage that can be imagined, purchases from town that had been squeezed into the much too small bus. As long as I watched all this I didn't have to look out of the window, despite the breathtakingly beautiful landscape, I was scared of the maddening race of the bus. The few times I dared a glance outside, I saw how close the drop-off was, and how little stones, loosened by our vehicle, tumbled down into its depths. Finally the bus driver told me, that we had almost arrived, and really, next to the street there stood the man that had invited me, and the girl with the long braids who was now bringing my soup every day. I grabbed my backpack and climbed out of the bus. A young boy, who during the journey, had called out the different stations climbed quickly onto the roof of the bus and threw down my second, bigger back pack. My acquaintances right away offered to carry it for me. We still had quite a way to go, and from now on the journey would be on foot. The village was situated several hours from the closest road. We climbed up narrow paths. At first dry grass, cactuses, and thistles grew around us. Then the landscape became ever drier and more gravely. The pathway nestled its way up close to the mountains, on one side deep underneath us, a river was spilling over stones. On the other side llamas stared at us with their curious big eyes from above. Finally we reached an expanse in which besides dry grass nothing seemed to grow. We were on a plateau, but far away I could see pointy mountains partially covered by snow. I was tired, but finally we reached the highest point of our journey. In front of us there was a valley that was covered with thick fog. This fog crept up every evening from the nearby, yet much lower situated jungle, and underneath it the village was hidden, I was told. It was already getting dark when we reached the village. Through the fog I could not see further than twenty meters, and the houses seemed to be standing in a nothing. The atmosphere was truly spooky. But a campfire lightened the little square, around which stood a few poor huts made of stone and thatched roofs. The fire glowed in a strange way. They did not burn wood, but rather dried excrements of cows and llamas. Of course, where would they find wood, after all I hadn't seen a single tree in hours. A celebration was planned in my honour, I was told. After all, not often people from that far away came to the village. The rest of the evening was a rush of strange music, dances, simple but exotic and spicy food, and foreign tasting alcoholic drinks. Finally I asked where my bed was and fell asleep feeling dizzy but happy with my adventures. The next morning I woke up shaken by fever and with a memory of the strangely pale face of my boyfriend that this night I had seen for the first time in my dreams. It is the altitude and the food that I am not used to, they explained. They told me the name of the disease I supposedly had, but I forgot it right away. To travel back to town would be impossible in my state. But they did not want a sick person inside the village either, they told me it was bad luck. And because of that there was 200 Meters away on the mountainside a little hut, in which I could stay until I got better. They promised to get medication from town, even though buying them would take two days. Since then I was lying here, and couldn't help thinking that I was getting worse instead of better. But the medication helped me to stay in a state close to unconsciousness, that made me not care. * "How are you?" As always the girl suddenly stood in the room, just when my thoughts had wandered far away and her greeting made me start. "Have soup for you." I sat up and tried to smile at her. She smiled back, but as always her smile seemed distracted and so distant that I couldn't help wondering what dark thoughts she might be hiding behind this smile. 'Lying here all day is making me paranoid' I said to myself, and rather did not look at her anymore. As everyday she sat down on the stool and gave me a bowl full of a thick yellow broth, in which swam some vegetables and a few lumps of meat. I ate, but even more than usual it was an unimaginable effort to open and close my mouth. Chewing hurt my jaw and teeth, and the food felt like a heavy, indigestible pulp in my stomach. I just couldn't eat. When I had eaten about a third of the soup the girl got up and walked to the door, to stare out into the darkness. And for the first time the idea emerged in my head to use this opportunity. I just poured out the remaining soup onto the dirty floor, a little bit away from my bed made of straw and blankets. 'As soon as vermin is attracted by the rotting food I will feel sorry for this,' I thought, but right now I didn't care. When the girl turned back towards me and saw the empty plate, she smiled her distant and empty smile. "Taste well?" She asked. But her question seemed more a matter of being polite than that she expected a real answer, and thus I only nodded shortly. Then, without saying anything else, she left my hut. As always after a meal I felt sleepy, but this day I didn't fall asleep quite as quickly as on other days and my sleep seemed less deep. The face of my boyfriend in my dreams seemed closer than usual. I reached out towards him with my hand and he did the same. He looked pale, and I felt coldness from him. "When I touch him all will be alright," I thought, when suddenly the door to my hut was opened and I thusly awoken from my sleep. I was too dizzy to turn to the door or say anything. But I managed to open my eyes ever so slightly and for a moment I could see the girl that stepped back into my room, and following her, three young men. One of them did wear a mask that hid part of his face. He seemed to not be in full conscience, maybe he was drugged: The other two men held on to his arms. He fought back against them, his whole body trembling, made loud grunting and hissing sounds, and seemed to have foam coming out of his mouth. He was younger than me, 19 or 20 at the most, and he pulled strongly with his arms, trying to escape the others' grip. They had their trouble holding on to him, an unimaginable strength he seemed to possess. I was lying on my back, only the dirty thick woolen blankets, underneath them, my by far less dirty sleeping bag, (that I used like a blanket), were hiding my naked body. An old woman from the village had advised me to not wear any clothes while I was lying in bed due to being sick. My eyes were almost completely closed, yet with a short blink I had perceived the small group next to my bed. I observed everything that happened around me, but felt that I was unable to move. The girl and the boys that held on to the crazy one, started to mutter something I could not understand. Their murmuring got louder and louder, the words spoken ever more rapidly. After half a minute they suddenly became silent and in the same moment they let go of the young man. Before I realized what was going on, he pulled the blankets away from me and jumped on me. I wanted to scream out of fear, I wanted to fight back, but my body did not obey me, just laid there motionless, as if I was unconscious - just that, in fact I was fully awake. I felt his hands that touched me everywhere, felt them at first fondling my breasts carefully and then press them stronger, more painfully, then again the hands were on my stomach, in my face, between my legs. Everywhere, they seemed to fly over my body. They pushed in between my legs, forced them apart, stroked along the inner thighs upwards. His fingers tried to enter me. Then again they were suddenly on my breasts, pressing them strongly, holding them as his mouth approached one to suck on my nipple. But the next moment his hands again wandered down on my body, and his tongue as well kept searching all over my skin. He reminded me of an animal that does not find a quiet moment in what it is doing, and I almost expected him to bite me at any moment. Again I felt his hands between my legs, felt his fingers force into me. Even though I didn't have control over my body, couldn't move at all, I felt everything as always, maybe stronger even: I felt I wasn't wet at all and that his rough fingers hurt me. He didn't care, he pushed his finger deep into me to open me, and I was unable to move away. At some point finally my body reacted and I felt how he could enter me without problems at first with one, then with several fingers. With the other hand, his tongue, and also his teeth, he kept exploring my body in the meantime. He didn't care if he hurt me while doing so, and I was sure I would have bruises and scratches afterwards. Then I perceived that he took his fingers out of me, and felt something new, bigger entering me instead. The boy was not particularly tall, as I had mentioned before, and his cock was in proportion to his body size. But my motionless body was more sensitive than usual and he entered me quickly and started to move inside me with a wildness that didn't give me any time to get used to him. While he did so he again uttered grunting and growling sounds, like an animal. I fought for control over myself, wanted to fight back, to move away from him. Finally and with great effort I managed to open my eyes widely. I saw the boy who was crouching above me with glassy eyes between the eyeholes of his mask and saliva dripping from his mouth. He was still moving in a rapid pace inside me. Like a dog. Then he started to jerk and finally sank down on me; his eyes empty, and stopped moving. Between my thighs I felt his semen pouring out that he had just squirted into me. Disgust overwhelmed me when the drool that still dripped out of his mouth, hit my naked stomach. Next to me the girl and the other two men stood and stared at me. Contrary to the boy they had noticed that I had opened my eyes. Several minutes they stood there like this, while I slowly started to feel a tingling in my legs that indicated that my control over my muscles was growing again. Finally the girl ordered the two men with just a movement of her hand to remove the third one from me. The two of them carried him out of the hut. He remained unconscious during this. The girl sat down next to me on my bed, and wiped the drool off my stomach with a piece of cloth, then she covered me with the blankets. Finally, after what seemed several hours, she spoke to me. "That should not happen. With drugs you should sleep. Better for you." She found the spilled soup on the other side of the bed and frowned. Then she stood up, left the hut, and soon came back with some rope in her hand. She took my hands and pulled them up over my head, there she tied them together, and then she fixed the rope to one of the wooden beams next to the wall that supported the roof. "Better like this. You can't run away. Time is not over yet." I still wasn't able to speak or to fight back. She took my head with one hand, and propped it up a bit, opened my mouth with the other hand, and placed a pain pill on my tongue. Then she held the cup with water to my lips, so I could wash the pill down. Without another word, and this time without a smile, she left the hut, and I was alone again. * I don't know how much time I spent like this, neither awake nor asleep. My hands were tied, so I could not smoke marijuana, but at least the pain pill worked somewhat. And the near darkness in the room made its effects stronger. I was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling across which the spider crawled slowly, or looked at the door, which the wind sometimes opened a bit, so I could recognize the outlines of mountains. Along with the drugs from the soup the pill lost its effects soon enough though, and my whole body started hurting horribly. The thought popped into my mind that they could keep me like this forever, to amuse the village's youth, or that they could kill me when they had enough of me. No one knew I was here, no one would look for me here. Strangely I didn't care at all. I just hoped I could fall asleep soon. But it seemed I was lying awake for hours, days, or even weeks. Finally the girl showed up at my side again. She opened the ties at my hands, and with her usual distant smile she handed me a bowl of soup. "Better if you eat it, easier for you." Without protest I took the soup from her and started to eat. But after a few spoonful I interrupted my meal. Because I had sat up, through this small movement, my head had become clearer and questions formed in it. "Why are you doing that?" Again she smiled, a tired smile this time. "Is important for my people. We have to protect us. You have to protect us." "Protect? How? Of whom?" She thought for a while. No smile anymore. "Yes," she finally said. "You have right to know. Father of mountains." With an undefined gesture she pointed at the door, outside. Then she continued. "Long time ago Father of Mountains often visited my people. Father of Mountains is important spirit. Has made mountain here, owner of mountain. Without Father of Mountains, no peace, in mountains. If people good with mountain, mountain good with people." She sighed. "But Father of Mountains keeps distance with people, almost always. Only one time not. One time, a beautiful girl in village. The most beautiful girl of the world, with eyes like the sky and hair like the fire of the sun. So beautiful that Father of Mountains falls in love. But girl was in love with boy from village. Simple boy working in the fields and guarding the llamas, she preferred him. So Father of Mountains let boy fall down a rock. But girl still did not want. Father of Mountains was very angry. Took revenge on people. Nobody was safe anymore. Most killed handsome young men and beautiful young women, virgins. But others too. My people were very afraid. Nobody knew what to do." I took a few more spoonfuls of soup, and stared at her, waiting for her to continue. What did all this have to do with me? "But a prophecy. Wise woman said that Father of Mountains needs sacrifice, once in one hundred years. A girl like her, that he lost, that girl he needs, she has said. Girl with hair like from fire and eyes like from sky. Thirteen times with help of man of the village, and then for himself. But all women here have black hair and black eyes. People continued in fear." Some hair was falling over my face; it was close to dipping into the soup. I wanted to secure it behind my ear, but something kept me from it. I held it in my hand already, but didn't move the hand; instead I looked at my hair, full of thought. I hadn't washed it in a long time. Long ago it had lost its normal silky smoothness. But it was still quite obviously bright red. "Then came people from your continent," the girl continued. "All were scared of them, just my people saw one thing only - people were light skinned and light eyed and some had hair like from fire and eyes like from sky, and sometimes there were women, too. Now we knew that prophecy was good. A strange woman kidnapped with right colors, and Father of Mountains had her thirteen times with the body of a man of the village. And then he got her for himself. After that one hundred years of peace. Only once in one hundred years we need to do the ritual." Now she smiled again, and looked at me. "When my father saw you in market, one hundred years were almost over. That is why we can't let you go. Is important for my people." Maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was the fever, the meaning of her words barely reached my mind. I was glad to know why I was here, and I continued eating my soup, hoping that afterwards I could finally sleep again. I almost didn't care what would happen to me. Still, almost without me wanting to, my mouth formed a question. "And - when the... the Father of the Mountains is coming to have me, what will happen to me afterwards? Will I die, or will I be allowed to leave?" Her smile was as absentminded as ever. "Don't know. Last ritual is one hundred years ago. Today no person alive that can remember, and legends don't tell what happens afterwards." I took some spoons of soup, and then I sank back into my bed. I was already somewhat dizzy, but also I felt nicely warm. I could still see the door open, and the two men enter again, leading another young man between them, a bit taller than the one last time, but again fighting strongly against them and making hissing sounds like an animal. I did not feel anymore how he pulled the blankets off me, and jumped on me. I had fallen into deep sleep. * The father of the Mountains came late at night. I don't know how much time had past since my last conversation with the girl, nor do I know how often she had brought me soup since then. I was asleep and as always I saw also in this night my boyfriend standing on a hill. I had gotten almost used to how we ran towards each other, stretching out our hands without managing to touch each other. My wish to reach him however was stronger each time. During the last nights (or days, since my sleep was not connected to any fixed schedule) I had woken up feeling he was still there, that I wasn't alone. Once I had clearly heard him breathing but when I turned around he was not there. Maybe something would happen if we managed to touch each other? With yet a greater effort I ran towards him, and all of a sudden our faces were not more than half a meter from each other. This time his hand approached my face, as if he wanted to caress my cheek and his lips appeared as if he planned to kiss me. I closed my eyes in expectancy of his kiss, but I opened them again when I felt a cold emerging from him. I stared into his face and suddenly realized that his eyes were empty, unmoving - those weren't his eyes. I panicked when I saw his mouth getting closer and closer, his face, his hand almost at my cheek. Suddenly I wanted to run away, didn't want him to touch me, to kiss me. But I couldn't move. I felt his breath already. Son of the Mountains ... When I woke up bathed in my own sweat, the door had sprung wide open and the noise had awakened me up. Wind was rushing through my hut and made me shiver. Despite being glad that I had woke up from my dream I wished the door were closed. I was tied to the bed and couldn't stand up to close it myself. While I still thought about that I felt his presence. I couldn't hear, nor see him, but I knew he was there. He ordered me to stand up. To my amazement I could pull my hands next to my body. I felt they weren't tied to the bed anymore. Slowly I got up. Was he inside the hut? No, and yet he was. But he was outside as well. He called me. I stepped outside the hut and went a few steps forward. Next to me the grass and a few bushes bent down in the wind. In front of me a pathway went straight down into the valley in which the village was situated. It was completely dark there, the fires had been put out, and the people were asleep. Just barely I could recognize the outlines of the houses in the darkness. The afternoon fog had diminished long ago and bright stars lit up the sky. They were brighter and closer than I had ever seen them. The wind pushed the clouds quickly along in front of the moon, silvery light and darkness took quick turns. Little drops of water flew in the wind and stuck to my body. I stood in front of the hut looked down into the valley and hardly knew that I was cold, and that I was naked. My skin, which had not had contact with the sun for weeks, must look pale in the moonlight. My hair waved around my head, fluttered in the wind. Had the sun been shining it would probably really have looked like fire. I breathed in deeply. After weeks in the bad air of this hut, full of my own sweat and that of unknown young men from the village, the cold night in the mountains was a relief. But then I heard him call me again. No, I didn't hear anything, but I felt him. His call was inside me. I turned around and started to climb further up the mountain. I didn't think about where to step, and yet I knew where to walk without slipping. I climbed up as if I knew where to go. He called me, and he led my way. I didn't ask, didn't think of anything. I felt hard spiky grass under my feet and small stones. The landscape looked like a silver desert, unreal in the moonshine. Some more distant mountains threw creepy shadows onto the highlands. The air smelled fresh and it was as if the wind washed the dirt of the last weeks off me. Somehow I ended up at the entrance of a cave. I didn't know how far I had climbed up the mountain. It was dark in the cave but I entered it with secure steps. I sensed that there was a precipice inside the cave that led deep into the mountain, so I pressed myself into the wall walking carefully. Finally I stood still. And there he was. I didn't see anything, because of the darkness, and maybe also because he can't be seen. But I felt the heat of his breath, felt how he crouched in front of me, watching me. My naked body looked white in the darkness of the cave and the soft curves of my breasts and thighs seemed even softer in contrast to the sharp corners of the stones here. I didn't know what he looked like but I felt his size, his strength, felt how already by looking at me alone he forced me to stay at the very place I was at. I felt him but I didn't see anything, except for the outline of my own arm close to my face. I started getting scared and pressed deeper into the wall. The cold stones of the cave cut into my back, and some water run down them. In front of me there was the precipice - and he was there as well. Suddenly I feared to fall, feared that any careless movement could cost my life. To flee was impossible, even if I could have moved my legs. I stood on the tips of my tows and tried to lean into the secure wall behind me, my hands holding on to the stones. Then, slowly, he approached me. I felt his breath more clearly on my skin, the air tingled and burned on me. His breath touched my knees, wandered upwards, paused for a little while between my legs. Suddenly I felt quite clearly there that the juices inside me increased that I emitted a strong scent from there, which the being in front of me absorbed. When he breathed out again I felt the warm wind caressing the most sensitive parts of my body. Without realizing I opened my legs a little bit. But then the searching, exploring breath kept wandering up my body, sniffing at my stomach, my breasts, my neck, and my hair. Finally he stood in front of me in his full size, and yet I still could not see him, not even a shadow. But I suspected that he was a lot taller than I was. This Not-Seeing scared me, and I closed my eyes. A soft touch at my neck made me shiver. That had to be his tongue, which now began slowly to wander down on my body, exploring it along way. For a few moments it stopped at one of my breasts, played with the nipple, then went to the other one. If I opened my eyes, I knew I wouldn't see anything but the cave I was in, so I kept them closed but tried to make out the outline of his body by the warmth coming from him. I still clung to the wall behind me, and didn't dare to move. I was sure that one wrong step would make me fall over the cliff. He now crouched in front of me again. His tongue was between my legs, and moved slowly along my inner thighs, his breath titillating me. I felt his lips, wondering whether they were human or not, while they sucked on my skin. His face stopped a few inches before my sex. He didn't touch me anymore but I still felt his breath, which floated gently and warm over the most sensitive parts of my body. I wanted to press myself against him, desired to be touched, again. But at the same time I knew I wasn't supposed to move. Then his tongue was there again, between my legs. A trembling moan escaped me, as his tongue parted my lips, entered me a little bit, and then continued a bit higher, reaching that most sensitive spot, circling it. At first slowly, but then ever faster and more demanding. At the same time his mouth, if it was a mouth that he had, seemed to suck on me. And within seconds I forgot the drop-off in front of me, forgot the illness of the past weeks, forgot where I was, forgot that I didn't know what kind of being it was that made me forget everything. I only felt how all my nerves concentrated in one spot and how all I felt seemed to be like an explosion. At the same moment I felt how he stood up to his full height in front of me. I was still unable to move in any direction, but my fear had disappeared. I felt his tongue, his lips again at my breasts, then at my neck. And at the same time I felt, how his cock was pressed against me. Willingly, I opened my legs more widely. I hardly thought about the cliff next to us anymore, or that I was nude and alone in a cave with a thing of which I didn't know at all what it was. All I could think of was that I wanted to feel it inside me, this being, which in all its proportions seemed larger than a human does. And as if he could read my thoughts, he slowly started entering me. At the same time his hands, if they were hands, had moved to my waist, lifted me somewhat, and pressed me against the wall so that it was even less possible for me to move, or to escape if I wanted to do so. For a few seconds I opened my eyes and realized I was hanging in the air, my feet far away from the closest ledge in the rock. And as the moon shone into the cave I could clearly see at least 20 meters of chasm underneath me. Where the being was standing I couldn't see. Maybe it was so tall it stood with its feet on the bottom. Or maybe it could fly. Maybe it was the air, the cave, the mountain itself. I didn't see anything but the normal nightly scenery. But I felt how he touched my whole body. His tongue seemed to continue exploring my neck and I moaned when I felt him enter me at the same moment. I closed my eyes. Slowly he moved inside me. At first he entered me a little bit only, but even though I couldn't see him I knew, I would soon feel him a lot deeper in me than any of my human partners had ever been able to make me feel. I felt how he moved deeper, faster inside me, how he pulled me closer to himself. I believed to feel his skin, which seemed sometimes soft, smooth, and human, but at other times hard and dry like of a reptile or full of hair like that of a large animal. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me close towards him. He pulled me away from the cave's wall, my only contact with the ground. And for a short moment I couldn't help imagining how strange my light, naked body must look as it hung in the air, squirming of arousal, but without that whoever caused this arousal could be seen. The next moment I felt him again, thrusting deep into me, and any thought disappeared in a wave of excitement that took over my whole body. While everything I felt overwhelmed me, while my mouth opened to express what I felt in a moan, his mouth approached mine and his tongue, which had explored my whole body, touched mine for the first time. For a few seconds I concentrated only on how this tongue explored my mouth, and tried even with the help of my mouth to find out what kind of being it was. I believed for a moment to feel huge sharp teeth. Then again all my concentration was swept away by what I felt down, between my thighs. In the end a wave of forgetting came over me that made me only feel, not think at all. It was as if this being was everywhere inside me, and as if its hands and thousands of tongues were everywhere on my body. I felt how it kept kissing me, felt how it kept thrusting into me. And at the same time I felt something entering me at the other side too. His fingers? Or did he have more than one cock? Or was there more than one of those beings? Somewhere in the back of my head once more the fearful question appeared of what was happening to me, and what was going to happen. But only seconds later my excitement became stronger and I felt like I was exploding, and forgot everything. * They found me in the early hours of the morning, lying in the snow. I couldn't have been lying there for long, because I didn't get more than a slight fever. For a few seconds I was confused when they woke me. My first memory was the much too pale face of my boyfriend from back home in my dream, but this time he had been far away and unable to touch me, or as if he was afraid to touch me. And then, slowly, memory of the past night returned. I saw the father of the girl, who had brought me soup, the man that had invited me here. I stuttered a question about the cave. He looked confused. There were no caves in this area. Then they carried me back into the village. The people there seemed happier than before, and for the first time I saw the village without it being covered in thick fog. The stone huts and straw roofs looked less poor and sad in the sunshine. They gave me tea that was supposed to help against the fever, and then they brought a horse for me. My sickness suddenly was no obstacle to traveling home anymore. And a few hours later I was once again in the little bus that was racing in a breathtaking speed along the narrow sandy roads. I looked out of the window, down the cliffs. They did not scare me anymore. Like in fever the next days passed. I called my parents who sent me money so I could travel to the capital and buy a new airplane ticket - my flight had left long ago. * For a few months already I am at home now. Here the mountains also surround my little hometown. They are tiny compared with the mountains there, but an unimaginable force emits from them. Whenever I have the chance I flee the town to climb a hill and enjoy the loneliness up here. It seems that I can climb in the mountains much better than I used to. And the mountains protect me of my parents worried looks. They are happy to have me back, but they don't understand why I am no longer the person their little girl used to be. Even more they protect me of the neighbors whispered rumors about the "souvenir" I brought home from my big journey. Whenever I walk along the streets everyone seems to recognize me, stare at me, and point at me. None of them have any idea that the child I carry is not the result of some summer love. Even of the boys of the village - about which I haven't told anyone - no one is the father. When they laugh and whisper a rage rises in me that isn't my own. The wish to tear them into pieces, to hurt them, to let the mountains crash over them. That is my son inside me. And each time I see a young woman with hair like of fire - whether it is my own younger sister or a strange girl - a desire burns in me that doesn't originate in my own heart, but in that of my child. Maybe there also is a ritual that can calm him down. But if there is, I hope they will never find out what it is. After all every mother wants her child to grow big and strong. My son, the son of the mountains, shall be powerful, even more powerful than his father.