Mount Everest by Hannah Lane

Zzzzp. Zipping open the tent, I gasped at the sight before my eyes. The imposing mountain was picture perfect, the air smelt cool and crisp, and had a definite feel of cleanliness to it. Jutting rocks cast eerie shadows shadows across the treacherous landscape, at the peak were various extortionate cliff faces. Deciding to set off early, I stood up, the snow crunched under my snow boots. The tent flapped like a bird as I pulled out the tent pegs to put it away, but the noise comforted me and I felt like I wasn’t alone. I had been trudging through the snow for hours now; a cool breeze blew gently with every breath the mountain took. I looked back briefly and saw a vast snowy desert and a lonesome pair of footprints, imprinted on the glimmering snow. Despite the utter charm of the mountain there was a menacing sense of fear loitering in the air. Everest stood tall and proud like it was guarding something something. The mountain had a secret, and the hairs on my neck told me I was about to find out…