***
He started searching in the dark for
anything his father could have left for him. Something that could prove that he
loved him no matter what. Something that could prove that his hero knew he
existed. Something to explain that he did not achieve the impossible in vain.
Suddenly his feet dropped. His knees hit
the ground. Both of his palms grasped the snow, as a spark of hope ignited in
the cold, freezing night. He observed the ground to find a massive panel of ice
polished by hand, covered in white powder.
His hands danced over the ice, hoping to
let it breathe finally. All of his energy was focused on this new discovery, so
much he could have forgot to breathe. Suddenly, his fingernails got caught in
the relief of the mirror-like material. In one desperate swing, the snow was
quickly evaporated through the air.
Engraved in the ice as hard as stone was a
sentence, ''He’s looking back at you''.
A sudden warmth englobed the man. His brain
shattered into a million pieces. An unrelenting silence was taking over his
thoughts. His heart started to beat again, for the first time in a few years.
He wanted to cry but he couldn’t. He wanted to
scream but he couldn’t. The only thing he was able to do was staring back at his own
reflection. Staring back at his own confusion. Staring back at his own ignorance.
The burning he felt in his guts could have
melted the snow all around him. The man was a statue for a long moment, gazing
into the settled water of the mountain. Through this looking-glass, he
discussed with his father for the last time.
With snowflakes gently falling on his head,
the father slowly walked home. As he was walking, he recalled how old he was.
In fact, pain in his stomach was reminding him to come back to reality even
though he was living a dream.
He finally closed the door without making
any noise. His breath was now fragile smoke in the log cabin, the window still
letting the snow enter the small house. He imagined himself smoking the
tastiest of cigars right next to the man that taught him everything he knew.
His eyes rolled to the window, as he observed the magnificent peak, a cliff in
which he jumped without any hesitation. Tired and exhausted, the man thought he
would close the breach in the morning.
His stomach ached again and he finally realized
what was happening to him. But it was too late.
He walked slowly into his son’s bedroom and sat on
his bed. His wonderful son woke up, his eyes still embedded in his pillow. He
bent over to his side and whispered in his ear the same words his dad had told him
many years ago, ''On the top of this snowy mountain, you will find the secret fuel to
all of my life’s work.''
He
spent time correctly developing each word so that his son wouldn’t understand
anything until he would explore by himself. His son was a better reflection of
himself than the mirror on the peak.
However, when he was about to accept his
destiny, he added a few words words of his own that his father forgot in the
ages, ''I will always love you, no matter what you become or do, my son.''
He then kindly kissed his child’s forehead, leaving
behind the most precious treasure he had.
He then went to bed next to his wife, who was waiting for him. She asked if he was okay, and he, of course, responded he was
fine as always. A dark spark sprinkled in his eyes as he pronounced that he
loved her, and that he always would.
The next morning, the man had offered his
last sigh to the stars. The cold and angry storm finally got rid of him. As he
feared, his family did cry his loss. However, they did not cry in vain. The
father was able to express all the love that was left in his self to his
family, without shredding a single tear.
The man died at peace with his own
fears and doubts in his sleep. His own father was awaiting him above the
clouds, in a new world.
The world he left was still expressing its
beauty after the tempest. The new-born snow was shining under the sun, on the
brink of melting. The blue sky was purer than it had ever been on the mountain
top, almost as blue as the tearing eyes of his son, staring at the snowy
mountain through the broken window.
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