The Story of a Lifetime

Nia struggled to keep up with her brother. The bicycle trail veered left into a slight incline, forcing her to pedal off her seat. She quickly lost sight of him behind the row of trees lining up the path.

“Kai! Wait up!”

The empty backpack she wore fortunately didn’t add much weight. He eventually came into sight, perched on his bike with one foot on the ground. Once she was close enough to make out his facial features, he launched off again. They continued up the trail for a few minutes before arriving at the top of a small hill. Kai came to a stop and waited for his sister to line up by his side. The treeline opened up, revealing a lush green valley of rolling hills, interspersed with woodland.

“You see what looks like a small outcropping behind those trees down there? That’s the house I found the other day.”

“That’s really far. How can we bike there?”
“We can’t. We’ll have to walk from the path.”

They continued down the hill, stopping where Kai determined the path’s closest point to the house. Parking their bikes on the side, the siblings walked through a grassy knoll, towards a cluster of tall trees whose imposing canopy covered everything beyond it.

“How did you know the house was there? Can’t see anything.”
“I guessed it from that position up the hill. That’s the only place you can see it. And barely at that.”

It was not uncommon for abandoned houses to remain untouched on the outskirts of town. Kai didn’t expect to encounter one far removed from any visible road. Entering the woods, they passed through enormous conifers which cast the entire area in dark shadows, even during their midday excursion. Nia wasn’t worried with her big brother by her side. The two of them spent each summer exploring their region, often boldly leaving the trail. Their curiosity outweighed their trepidation. Thanks to their insatiable sense of exploration over the years, they had stumbled upon hidden rivers and vast caving systems. Kai knew he would soon be moving on from these boundless adventures. The following year, he would be leaving for university. Nia, three years younger, still had ample time for local adventures, but she knew their shared thirst for discovery would dwindle without his company.

“It’s right up ahead.”

The house appeared in a clearing before them, where years of neglect allowed nature to reclaim some territory. Thick weeds and vines occupied almost every inch of open space. A consistent moss enveloped the roof and outer walls of the house. Windows had long been broken, and the front doorway remained ajar, allowing vegetation to crawl within. To the right, they saw the remnants of an unpaved driveway cutting through the woods, leading to an unknown abandoned road. Kai took out a wristwatch from his pocket for his sister to examine — its worn out brown leather strap devoid of a buckle, and its casing in dire need of a cleaning.

“I found this inside.”

The pair walked into the house to explore what other objects it kept a secret. Aside from the main living room, whose tattered furniture nature overran, three adjacent rooms with no doors comprised the first floor. A thick grey film of dust and sediment covered random objects scattered across the wooden floor boards. A pungent smell of earth and vegetation pervaded the air. Kai proceeded to the stairway at the opposite end, having investigated everything else during his initial visit. Nia pulled out her flashlight and tiptoed inside one of the rooms, as if she was trespassing an occupied house. The walls were bare, with waning off-white wallpaper curled up in some places. She glanced at the shabby bed before examining the brown bookshelf beside it. A few hardcover books were lined up. She pulled out a small blue notebook at one end of the top shelf, and read the owner’s name handwritten on its cover.

“Vivica Dee”

Opening the notebook, Nia noticed a title elegantly written in cursive. She flipped through, gauging how much text was within. There were but a handful of written pages, all in cursive. She couldn’t find any dates or separate entries; just the title at the beginning, in addition to the text that followed. Standing in the abandoned bedroom, Nia directed the flashlight towards the first page and began reading.

“The Story of a Lifetime, by Vivica Dee

The van gently rocked my body from side to side. It lulled me to sleep like a cradle. In darkness, I didn’t dream. The sounds around me gradually faded. The constant rumbling of the engine. Tires connecting with the gravely road. The driver mentioning something to the woman in the backseat. The woman responding gently, out of consideration for my rest. Drifting in and out, I felt comfortable and safe in the hands of my caretakers. “We’re here!” announced the driver.

I opened my eyes and looked at my watch: ten forty-five at night. The driver hopped out of the van, and the woman grabbed my backpack from the back seat. I stretched my legs and stepped out. My eyes adjusted to the street lamps bathing the tiny outpost in a warm amber glow. Before heading back to the van where they would sleep through the night, they introduced me to my guide for the hike: a man in his forties who would lead me up to the summit of the volcano. He brought his own backpack, two walking sticks, and two head torches for the journey. His smile was courteous, yet genuine; his words soft, like a gentle breeze. “My name is Angel,” said the man.

He asked me if I brought enough food and water. I mentioned the four liters in my backpack. That, and the many energy bars. As we sat on a bench by the outpost among other hikers and their guides, he showed me how to wear and operate the head torch. He told me we would attempt to reach the summit by sunrise. It would give us a few chances to rest along the way. Just before we set off, I meticulously tied my shoelaces. I didn’t want to make any adjustments before the journey ended. After that, I grabbed my heavy backpack filled with supplies. Angel and I tightened our head torches, and headed towards the mountainside.”

“What did you find?”
“Kai! You scared me half to death!”
“Sorry… what is that you have there?”
“ ‘The Story of a Lifetime’. I think it’s a girl’s journal about a memorable experience she had. Memorable enough to make it the highlight of her life, I guess. A trek up a volcano.
“Let’s bring it home. Why are you looking at me like that? This house has been abandoned for decades. No one’s coming back here to reclaim their stuff.”

Nia placed the notebook in her backpack, and the two left the house, ready to head back to town. The pair was about forty-five minutes away from home; barely the average of their greater distances. Nia remembered once having biked with Kai for two hours before discovering an imposing cliffside in the forest, which peered down some intimidating rapids some thirty meters below. During such excursions, they would leave their bikes at the trail before hiking into the unknown, in search of a new hidden gem nature carefully guarded. Like budding archaeologists who just unearthed a relic of the past, Nia and Kai were eager to read the blue notebook left by Vivica Dee; an untold chronicle in the annals of human history. The trip was cut down by ten minutes, as they rushed back to their suburban neighborhood of identical houses lining up winding streets. When they finally arrived at their home near the edge of a vast park, they settled into the living room, where Nia allowed her brother to catch up on the first passage of the story. They then read together in silence, exchanging quick glances and nodding when they were both ready to flip to the next page.

“In the dark, we settled into a brisk pace, my body primed for the night’s undertaking. The humidity of the jungle persisted at this lower elevation, along with the incessant chirping of crickets from every direction. The path soon began to turn upwards after a few minutes. Beads of sweat collected on my face and neck, but the cool nocturnal air swiftly evaporated them away. I glanced back and forth between the path directly beyond my feet, and Angel powering up ahead. Everything was black — only the beams of our head torches unveiling our surroundings, wherever we looked. Soon enough, we made some sweeping strides to clear a rock here, or a fallen tree trunk there. The path had now decidedly shot upwards into an unrelenting incline. I focused on controlling my breathing to a steady pace in order to control my heart rate. It was something I had to consider at every step.

On occasional breaks lasting five to ten minutes, we came across other hikers and their guides. All our faces were half lit by the head torches where we sat. We briefly shared our presence, resting and starting off again at different times.

“This hasn’t been too bad so far,” one would say.
“What time is it now?” another would ask.

Our conversations only served to break the silence. After we returned to the trail, we occasionally intersected before diverging once more. Our pace would change as well. One surpassed the other before positions reversed. The only constant was Angel, always a few steps ahead of me. He warned me when we approached precipices a mere step or two away. He occasionally advised me on which boulder to clear, and how best to maneuver through a slick, muddy pass. His experience brought me to the first and second posts of the climb: tiny plaques each held in place by a tiny pole hammered into the ground. Each indicated the elevation, marking our progress. Some time beyond the second post, we stumbled upon a camp site where half a dozen tents were pitched. A few people were gathered around a fire to warm up in the coolness of the night. Angel and I took a seat by the fire, and I noticed a woman in her sixties to my right. It was 3 am, and she, along with others, had apparently just gotten up after sleeping for a few short hours. They were going to pack up and complete their descent. The woman smiled and asked me: “Heading for the summit this morning?

“Yes ma’am,” I answered.
“I just came back down earlier today. You’ll love it, it’s absolutely breathtaking.”
“I look forward to it,” I told her.
“I envy you,” said the woman, “you have most of the journey ahead of you, and the summit is still up there. I wish I could do it all over again, but my body wouldn’t allow it after all this time on the mountain.”

I nodded and smiled. I wasn’t sure how to answer to that. Truthfully, her remark made me feel slightly uncomfortable. Still, I couldn’t blame her for not knowing me. For the remainder of my rest by the fire, we all remained largely silent. We preferred to take in the peacefulness of the early morning, before day broke. Angel and I continued a few minutes later. We got back to fighting the steepness of the mountainside, always with the head torches helping us find our footing and interpret the path.

“I don’t know… how long I can continue,” said a man, breathing heavily. He took two large gulps of water his guide handed over.
“Is…it much longer… to the top?” he asked.
“We are about half way,” answered his guide.
“Okay… I’ll… keep trying a bit more…”

We passed them after that. When we were out of earshot, Angel turned to me: 

“Not everyone makes it to the summit, and that’s okay. The important thing is to keep moving forward while you still can.” 

I heeded the advice. We marched onward, each step the most important. The summit could only be reached with them all.”

“Hey Nia, I just had a thought. The library should have some information on Vivica Dee.”
“I didn’t think of that. You want to go there now? I’ll bring the notebook, and we can finish reading it there.”

Like a pair of detectives chasing a hot lead, Nia and Kai grabbed their bikes and made their way to the town’s library. They cut through a rugged dirt path near the end of their street. From quaint parks to small patches of woods, the pair emerged directly by the side of the large municipal library building, which presented a bike rack. The pair then settled in by one of the computer workstations. Kai took charge of looking up Vivica’s name in the region’s digital archives. Nia, on her end, continued her reading. She hoped the story would disclose more information about its author and protagonist.

“We eventually cleared the bush and entered a landscape of volcanic rock slathering the steep mountainside. The exposed stars did little to light our path, but then, the first hints of a new day emerged in the form of a pink light. It painted a section of the sky near the horizon. At first, I doubted my eyes. Perhaps I didn’t expect time to pass us by so quickly. It was such a strenuous climb. The emerging lights were real, however, and plenty of time remained before the sun would appear from the East. Although I no longer needed my head torch to map the path further up ahead, I still used it to guide my immediate steps.

The creeping dawn began to unveil the volcano’s intimidating contours. A faint bluish hue illuminated my surroundings, helping me navigate the final narrow passage to the summit. Breathing heavily, I cleared the last segment, gave a high five and a hug to Angel, and removed my backpack to enjoy the sunrise. A dense fog that lifted from the crater hid the horizon at first, but a few moments later – as if on cue – the fog steadily lowered back down, revealing the sun that had just pierced through. Its golden light flooded the entire land, and in that precise moment I understood how our experiences are not meant to last — they are meant to happen. We descended after forty-five minutes on the summit, losing the elevation we painstakingly gained over the last few hours. During this time, I fought my desire to stay up there, where no other point on the island claimed the same height, nor offered the same magnificence. Leaving the summit was an act of bitter acknowledgment that such splendor now belonged to the past.”

“Nia, I found her.”

Nia stopped reading and leaned over to view the archived article her brother had dug up; the only document to come up in the search results. She read the key highlights aloud:

“Vivica Dee’s funeral was held yesterday at 4 o’clock in the afternoon at Trinity Church. She was buried in Rolling Hills Cemetery, survived by her father Angel. After bravely battling illness for many years, she succumbed on August 6 at the tender age of fourteen.”
“This happened forty-two years ago, Nia.”

The siblings paused in sustained silence. Kai then pointed to the blue notebook.

“This has to be a work of fiction. If she was sick for many years, how would she have been able to hike up a volcano in the middle of the night? That, and her father is only mentioned in the story as her guide.”
“We misunderstood the title, Kai. It isn’t about climbing a volcano being the high point of her life. It’s a story about her entire life.”

Kai slightly raised an eyebrow as Nia handed over the notebook to let him catch up in the story. Once the pair regained their shared progress, they read through the last passages of Vivica Dee’s retelling.

“My body began to show signs of fatigue. In daylight, the mountainside revealed the uncompromising terrain and the steep angle. The descent through the steep rocky terrain punished every cell. It even seemed to add weight to my backpack. Angel saw me struggling and offered his walking stick. It helped me at first, but my energy kept depleting. The journey, filled with so much struggle, for a brief sunrise at the top. Was I meant to fight for the most fleeting moments of glory, or were other wonderful moments hiding in plain sight? Perhaps I ignored things beneath the surface that existed throughout the rest of the adventure. I looked at my surroundings and took in the dizzying but spectacular view of two other volcanoes still well below my current elevation. I breathed in the cool morning air, knowing that an oppressive humidity would eventually replace it. And even though my body’s cries could not be ignored, I relished my continued ability to walk. It was not yet over, I told myself. I kept pushing, and when I could, I kept enjoying every minute of it.

Then I saw the van, and the end within reach. Some people would complete their journey back down the mountain without summiting. Some would spend much less time on the mountain, and I was one of them. However short my experience had been, I was grateful to have made it to the summit along the way. I thought about when I first set off in the darkness, which now seemed so distant and unclear. I reminisced about my controlled breathing up the mountain; the brief encounters with others along the way; the long descent whose punishing moments remained painful to me. The handful of times I stumbled on rocks or slipped in the mud. I then pictured the summit one last time. My body beaten and withered, I settled back into the van where the driver reclined my seat. I closed my eyes, breathed slowly, and reconciled with it all being over. As it began, so it would end — resting peacefully in the dark.”

Daniel Sumarto, February 2026

© 2026 Daniel Sumarto - All Rights Reserved