A Hiking Haven Holiday

As a kid I used to take hikes with my mother during summer breaks. We would explore abandoned mills and the remnants of the past and make memories together, being careful not to fall or trip over rocks. There was this one river that flowed near the ruins we often played near.  It was the perfect balance of peace and nature.

I loved nature. Until it destroyed my mother. You see, my mother was taking a hike, but in her camera crazed excitement, she tripped over a jutting rock and fell to her death, breaking her bones and splitting her skull in the process.

"Mother... MOTHER!" I cried. I rolled her near the river since she seemed thirsty. And Lo and Behold: she was healed, resurrected. The water- the sacred water healed her, gave her back her life. I have never been able to find this holy water again. 

This is my dream holiday: to return to that sacred haven, and drink from its fountains once more. Until then, death awaits me.