Rattlesnake Short Story

‘twas the night before hike-mas. I had begrudgingly agreed to go to bed before 10, even though I insisted that I could stay up later and still be okay in the morning. I was all packed. I had packed plenty of water, water, water, and even more water. I had snacks. I had lots of sunscreen on, and lots of sunscreen in my backpack, although there’s only so much sunscreen can do. I had anxiety about a couple of things. One of those things was my fear of snakes, and the other was my fear of heights. I had a fear of falling. I brushed my teeth, put my football themed pajama bottoms on and went to bed. It was early. It was too early to be going to bed, and it took me awhile to fall asleep. I lay awake. I was thinking about those anxieties. I was
It might have been five or six, and we were much closer to the top of the mountain than the bottom. I turned a corner, eyes set dead ahead to avoid acknowledging the rather large disparity in height between myself and sea level. I looked down and to the left. There was a rattlesnake, more specifically, a Great Basin Rattlesnake. They’re venomous. I stopped dead in my tracks, I was not going anywhere near that thing. I was the only one who had seen the snake, and, like a smart kid, I omitted telling them that information. My family had yet seen the snake. The path was narrow. There were people behind us and there was not enough room to turn around. I was stuck. The path was as narrow as the path in the woods back home, the path that I would often slip off of. The stakes here were higher. The stakes were much higher, 14,505 feet higher to be exact. We were incapable of calling for help. That high up, there was no way we could have gotten cell phone reception, and even if we could have, it would have taken hours for anyone to get to us. I made a decision. I had to face my fears, that would be the only way I could get past them. I took a cautious step forward. I was now a step away from being right next to the snake, easily within striking distance. I took a deep breath. The snake was rattling his tail, warning me not to go any further. I stepped forward. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of movement as the Great Basin Rattlesnake lunged
I felt my stomach disappear. The ground accelerated towards me, as I sped up the side of the mountain blurred. I was falling. The mountains in the distance looked like pure gold, absorbing the evening sunlight with their desert-sand-colored surfaces. The skyline was beautiful. The sun was just crossing the horizon, a flash of every color of the rainbow and more danced around it. I was at peace. I was so close to the ground that I could see every detail of every rock, every grain of sand. Time slowed. I could see every atom, every molecule. I had time now. I had the time to think about what I had done, and what it had meant. I had faced the snake. I had conquered my fear of heights, and I had conquered my fear of falling. I had conquered my fear of fear. It felt freeing in a way, there was nothing to be afraid of anymore. It was like a dream.
I was jolted awake by the sound of my alarm clock beeping. I leapt out of bed. This was my first serious hiking trip; it was my first time battling mother nature in any real way. I was beyond excited. My anxieties were gone, I didn’t know what had changed since I had gone to bed the night before, but I knew that I had the courage somewhere inside of me to face my fears. Some have said that people dream about their worst fears. I dreamt about snakes, I dreamt about falling, and I dreamt about fear itself. I had conquered my fears. Most importantly though, I had conquered my