I still can’t believe I agreed to this ridiculous contract. It seemed like a joke at first – “Climb the mountain, get the check.” Easy peasy, right? But as soon as I signed on the dotted line, it became clear that my new employers were not messing around. They warned me, in no uncertain terms, that if I so much as blinked while climbing, let alone stopped to catch my breath, I’d be stuck to a chair for hours. And now, here I was, halfway up the mountain and desperate for a break.
I’d been pushing myself hard for months, training every day to build up my endurance. The views from the top were supposed to be breathtaking, but at this point, I just wanted a moment’s peace. My legs were burning, my lungs were screaming, and all I could think about was dropping to the ground and resting. But no – according to the contract, that would mean hours spent tied to a rickety old chair in some dingy room, with nothing but the sound of dripping water for company. I’d have to call it a day, and accept my punishment.
I trudged along, my eyes scanning the terrain below me for any sign of my employers. Where were they? Didn’t they know how hard this was? But of course they did – that’s why they’d given me this stupid contract in the first place. They wanted to push me to my limits, see just how far I’d go before giving up. And now I was stuck to a chair, with no escape in sight. My heart racing, I looked around at the cold, unforgiving mountainside and wondered if I’d ever make it back down.
I’ve been tied to this wretched chair for what feels like hours – maybe it’s just minutes? Time loses all meaning when you’re stuck in a situation like this. My employers came and went, never saying a word as they bound me with rope and left me to stew in my own sweat and fear. They knew I was scared, of course – that was the point. Now I’m trapped, unable to even stand up or move around. All I can do is sit here, trembling with rage and frustration, while the hours tick away at a glacial pace. Will anyone come for me? Will anyone even care?
