The Hike

Clarissa had always found that hiking brought her freedom. Like the wind that rushed through her hair, or the water bubbling in the streams, she found that she could always move, never having to stop for anything or anyone. Her thoughts, her angry, restless thoughts, couldn’t hurt her when the sun was shining on her, when her feet moved along the pine covered path with ease. Words spoken to her, words spoken in the past, and words that could be spoken in the future, fell onto deaf ears, ears that only listened for the birds in the air and the leaves that rustled around her. 

She breathed heavily as she climbed up a hill, her callused hands gripping tree branches around her, new territory ahead of her. Her backpack seemed to be getting heavier on her shoulders, yet she continued on, unwilling to let her pain catch up to her. Clarissa knew that she had to continue forward despite her discomfort, no matter what. 

The sun that had hung high in the sky had begun to lower itself, slowly sinking towards the horizon, casting shadows across the land and on the trees. Clarissa knew that she should probably head home, she didn’t want anyone to worry, but deep down she remembered that there was no one else who would worry about her, at least not anymore.

She blinked, forcing the uncomfortable thoughts away and focused on the wind that chilled her bare arms. As the world became darker and darker, she took out a flashlight, shining it along the ground so she didn’t lose her footing. 

Roots and mounds of dirt threatened to trip her as she began descending the hill, the telltale noise of crickets piercing though the voice of the wind. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Clarissa noticed a large shadow in the distance, as if the earth had opened up and swallowed a piece of itself, the darkness sinking lower and lower until it vanished from sight. Shining her flashlight towards it, the darkness was surrounded by stone, green with moss, the stone continuing into the darkness. 

It didn’t take her long to discover that the darkness was a cave, a cave that steeply dropped into the soil. 

She stepped closer to it, peering down with the small beam of light in her hands, and noticed that there were cuts in the stone, natural stairs jutting out from the hard material, uneven and cracked, yet stair-like nonetheless. They descended into the cave, soon coming to a rest along a rough stone floor. The whole cave seemed warm and inviting, and it beckoned for her to enter, like an old friend knocking on her door.

She hesitated, wondering if she should step down into it. It was getting late, she didn’t bring a first aid kit, which would prove to be an issue in the case that she fell, and her phone didn’t have any bars. Yet, a pained thought broke through the peaceful bliss the hike has given her, words bleeding into her mind and flooding her heart. 

“I did it because you mean nothing to me. This marriage means nothing to me.”

Clarissa frowned, ignoring the tears that burned behind her eyes, and stepped down into the cave, eager to escape the words that threatened to drown her. 

Her footsteps began to echo as she descended, step by step, stair by stair, her hands gripping the wall, hoping that she wouldn't fall. She found herself thankful for the lack of rain lately. If the rocks had been slippery she would've fallen by now, and everything would be worse than it already was. 

She breathed deeply, closing her eyes for a second, once again willing her thoughts away.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the bottom, and, walking further into the cave, she ran her fingers against the wall, ducking her head under the overhang, and dropped her bag on the ground. Sitting down, she took a quick drink of her water, wincing as it trickled down her dry throat. 

The cave cut off all noise from the woods above her, letting more painful thoughts break through her carefully crafted wall, walls made of nature and movement and moving forward. 

Clarissa closed her eyes as she instantly remembered yelling. Screaming. Questions of why filling the air around them, a “How could you do this?” getting stuck in her throat, unable to escape. 

She still couldn’t believe it. How could Daniel, her sweet, loving Daniel, cheat on her? Were four years of marriage worth nothing to him? Was she nothing to him?

His words echoed through her brain again, and she felt like crying, longing for the peaceful bliss her hike had given her. She regretted going into this cave. All it brought was pain and hurt, the exact opposite of what she wanted to feel. What she ever wanted to feel. 

As she got up, picking up her backpack once more, her flashlight beam came across a chest, a chest that was tucked further back into the cave, nearly out of sight. It was small, wooden with silver nails, and was fully square in shape. 

A part of her screamed to leave, the part that screamed in agony, begging for help, yet her curiosity was stronger. She walked towards the chest, kneeling beside it and opening it, coughing as dirt and dust splashed into the air as she did so. Shining the light from her flashlight into it, she saw a collection of photographs, a heart locket, and some opened letters. Clarissa could see fancy handwriting on the letters, written with flourish. 

She picked up one of the photographs, all of which were black and white, seeing a boy and a girl in each other’s embrace, smiling brightly. They seemed young, maybe 25, and looked happy, happier than Clarissa could even imagine. Searching through the other photographs, she noticed that they were all of the same couple, with dates and events written on the back, the years dating back at least 70 years. 

A part of her knew that she should stop looking, that this was an invasion of privacy, yet she continued to search it. If the notes on the photographs were right, the photos were taken long ago, and whoever put this here probably wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. And, another part of her begged to keep on searching, to see the romance and love that these two strangers had. Maybe it would give her hope for her own life, her own love. Or maybe it would make her feel worse. 

Nonetheless, she flipped through the photographs, and, once she got through them all, began reading the letters carefully, not wanting to crinkle the paper that had begun to yellow with age. 

Many of the letters were love letters, fitting the theme of the photographs, and each letter was written to either a Thomas or a Mary. She realized that the two were writing letters to one another, both apparently separated by long distances for most of their young lives yet still sustaining their relationship. 

Clarissa could tell that, without a doubt, the two were madly in love. They cared for each other so much that they would stay in touch, communicate, stay loyal despite the distance that stretched between them. She couldn’t help but be envious of them, wishing that she could have a love like theirs, a love that had no boundaries or bounds, a love built on trust.

As she kept reading, her hands began shaking, silent tears finally falling out of her eyes, creating trails of water on her cheeks. She made sure that none of her tears stained the pages she read, making sure that the precious memories, the treasure of love set in a time capsule, hidden from the world, wasn’t tainted by her pain, her longing. 

But it was one paragraph that made her smile, one paragraph that Clarissa knew that she would hold onto with all of the strength that she could manage, gripping it so tightly so that she would never forget it. 

It was in a letter addressed to Thomas, written by Mary. In her graceful handwriting, the young woman had written the most beautiful words Clarissa had ever read, the words of someone who was hopeful, someone who had suffered yet managed to find love despite it.

“I know that all of the distrust I have faced only served one purpose: it allowed me to love and adore the trust I now have in you, and you in me, the trust that I have waited for for so long yet finally have received. It was worth the wait. It was worth the pain. It’s worth all the pain in the world. To trust and to love you is the best thing I have ever done, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my days trusting and loving you.”

Something sparked in Clarissa’s chest as she read the words over and over, something so strong that it made all of her pain go away. She realized it was hope, and she promised to never let it go, no matter what, holding it so close to her heart like the words she had read. 

Maybe one day Clarissa would find her Thomas, the man who she loved who she could always trust, the man who wouldn’t cheat on her, the man who would love her in everything. Maybe Daniel was just a man who would be disloyal, who would break Clarissa’s heart, who was only in her life so that she would be able to love the man that she could actually trust, a man who would never break her heart. 

For once in the entire day she allowed herself to think, and Clarissa found that, in this moment, she couldn’t have been happier.