Breathe.

Slowly.

In.

Out.

In.

One.

Two.

Three.

Don’t think about the pain, the cold, or the dread of dying up on this mountain alone.

Four.

Five.

Remember going to the beach with Charlotte when she was maybe five? How happy she was to build sandcastles and run around in the sun? Her smile shined the brightest that day.

Out.

In.

Out.

God, please, let me see her again. This can’t be the end. I need to find help, but I can’t move. This snow-

Nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

Focus on breathing.

In.

Out.

When we moved Charlotte into her dorm, it was so hot. I pleaded to God for a breeze, and every now and then a gentle blow would cool us down for just a second. Sweat poured down our faces and all of our faces were bright red.

Shit. I lost count.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Out.

In.

“Hello! Anyone there?”

I could cry because I’m going to be saved. I go to call out, but nothing happens. I can’t move. I can’t speak. I lay there, hopelessly waiting for my savior to find me.

I counted 1,000 breaths, and no one came.

I new I shouldn’t have fallen asleep, but I was so tired. I couldn’t keep going. I needed a break.

Breathe. Don’t think about the fact that I can’t feel my legs or feet or that I can barely even move my fingers.

Breathing is beginning to hurt. It’s too cold. My chest is hurting. My nostrils burn. My throat feels full of ice every time I breathe in.

But as long as I am breathing, there is a chance.

My breaths are getting shorter and harder to do.

Charlotte. My sweet girl, I am so sorry.

Breathe.

One.

Two.

In.

Out.

In.