"When I was about 6 or 7 my brother told me about "them" for the first time. I was entranced by his stories thinking that I could protect my brother from the heinous creatures he spoke of. I know it's silly of me to truly think such things, but it was part of that childhood innocence. He would always remind me to never mention what he told me to anyone, but I remember his stories so vividly and still remember gazing sometimes at the motions he would make. Below his hand he had a tattoo, he got it as a sign of rebellion and while my mother was horrified I found it quite cool. It was just a tiny pair of wings along with other little glyphs, what it symbolized I'm not exactly sure; As a child I only cared about how pretty the wings looked by now I know better, if only I could have asked what it all meant, but what I am sure is that it was more than just an act of rebellion. I didn't bring it up as he asked until he broke the ice first several years later.
I was about 14 and he was 24 and had just recently come out of a rough patch and was living with a friend of his. He came by to visit and informed us that he was taking a job up in the Canadian Mountain tops as a researcher to map out a possible new checkpoint for climbers. Well that was his cover-up story for them anyway. He pulled me aside later and asked if I remembered "them". He then proceeded to explain that he joined a team equally intrigued by the myths to explore the mountains for signs of "them" as it was their best lead to find evidence. He told me he loved me, he loved our family, but that this was something he had to do. I didn't bother stopping him nor did I care to. I was so young and naive that I wish I had done more to stop him, more to make sure he didn't follow that uncertain path, I would have preferred him to have joined the military rather than leave the way he did, just to chase a stupid legend. Here we are all these years later he never came back. If only things had worked out after college, guess I'm no better anyway chasing his footsteps.
After the first year my brother was gone my mother was in denial at his disappearance as she held out hope he would return and eventually succumbed to her grief 3 years later, while my sister and father accepted it and moved on with their lives. I, myself, well I decided to explore those same frosty mountain tops. You may be thinking "How stupid is she?" And yes I agree I am foolish for doing this, but it's so much deeper than just chasing a dead person. A few weeks after he left I'd never felt "alone" . At night when studying for those god awful finals or even just laying down awake in my bed I always felt eyes on me, I can't explain it. It felt wrong, everything did. The anxiety of being alone at night or the paranoia that something was watching me would start truly getting to me. I found solace in researching and following the breadcrumbs my brother left back in his old room. Going through the boxes and papers he had lying around it seemed like an endless stream of scribbles on paper. I would find some sort of solace seeing horror games that pushed off the anxiety and paranoia to a different reason.
I took college as an opportunity to research as it was the best time to do so with my newfound free time as I did not require a job to stay afloat. I strayed away from social events and barely had any friends. Despite being a loner in what was supposed to be the best years of my life I did learn is that the mountains my brother spoke of were Mount Saint Elias and it was a private mountain up in Canada, but you could pay a fee to climb it and it was rumored to be haunted in some way. It even had your standard spooky old ancient buildings. During my research in college I met Henry. He was Canadian and while he wasn't the best source of information his grandfather did climb a mountain near Saint Elias, Mount Ellington. He wouldn't ever leave me alone and slowly I fell for him. His quirky yet contagious nature knew no bounds and while I knew it was all temporary I still conceded in his efforts almost as a distraction from all the noise and paranoia. For once in my life I didn't feel alone, but that was short lived as when he was gone it would all come back to me, I couldn't rely on Henry to sway the path I set up for myself. Despite this all I did love him and kept him around till my inevitable search of the mountains.
We soon graduated and moved near my sister in Idaho and got an apartment together and he met my Dad and Sister. I had a decent job, we had a Bird named Chewy and were planning to get a dog to add to the family. You could say life was looking bright for me. Maybe If I stayed with him it would have all been ok, It would have all vanished by itself one day, but I knew better than to just trust a fantasy such as peace. I knew that whatever was mocking me or watching me that I had to do something to quell it and end it. A week ago I broke it off, apparently he was going to propose soon. He even had a ring, well I wonder how my life would have gone if it weren't for "them". You might be wondering "why is she going up these mountains and throwing her life away like this". It's not for me to go find my brother if you're thinking that. I know he's long gone, and it's not like I have a strong urge to find "them". I don't know how to describe it, along with the noises Canada just calls for me, it tells me to come, it awaits with open arms. I wonder what it is and so my journey ensues. If you found this note then you understand why I left, well at least you know why. If I'm not back by 2008 then don't worry about me anymore."