I breathe in.

One.

I’m confident.

Two.

Death hasn’t shoved me into it’s dunguns. Not quite yet, at least.

Three

I swing up to the next small ledge, my fingers griping the small crevasse. It’s smooth, gliding down to the ground. Softly sloped. Gravity hasn’t pulled it down yet. Just like how when I’m out here, alone, just me and the mountains, the world hasn’t pulled me down.

Not yet.

I look up, looking for my next grip. There is a nice little rock sticking out a few feet away from me on my right. I’ll have to jump.

That’s not a problem.

I pull myself up a little bit more with my right arm, preparing to swing across and grab the small grip. I don’t look down. No, you never look down. Only up.

Because that’s the only way to go.

My mind is far away from the world beyond this. Beyond my peace. Beyond my determination. Beyond to the world that is busy with their lives and jobs and school. With their families. The world so wrapped up in their own minds they forgot this world.

But that’s okay, because this is my world.

I close my eyes for a second. The wind blows through my hair and I can feel the sun smiling down on the back of my neck. I breathe.

That’s all I can really do before I jump.

And I do. I swing through I air, pushing myself forward from the handheld that I was griping on to before. Alive. I’m so alive out here.

My left hand wraps around the small stone, gravity pulls my body down. My hand holds my body up. I’m hanging here, one small mistake away from death.

So very close to death, and yet, all I can close to is being alive. Excruciatingly alive.

I smile. It’s bright and big and hidden away from the rest of the world.

“I dare you, death.” I say.

“I dare you to try and take me away.”

And I jump up again, reaching towards my next goal.

I’m flying through the air. I’m gliding as a bird would. My eyes are locked up to the stone, just as my head is. I’m close. So, very close.

My hand slips.

It slides down the side of the rock, scraping along. I’m falling.

One foot.

Two feet.

Ten feet, i have no idea anymore. No idea in my mind but to wrap my hands around something, anything.

Please, I beg. Please. Don’t take me down again.

Not again.

They hook around a grip

The wind suddenly dosen’t feel so soft. It’s harsh. Beating against my head. The sun mocks me.

What just happened?

My palms burn but my face burns more. I look up, quickly eyeing the most obvious choice for the next grip.

I pull myself up by my fingers and prepare to jump.

I close my eyes.

One.

I wiggle my left hand.

Two.

I open my eyes.

Three.

I focus on the point

Four.

I get ready.

Five.

I try to jump.

Six?

I can’t. I can’t jump.

What is wrong with me.

I cry out, my chest is shaking. Why am I so terrified? I have never been scared, not up here. Not since I was a child. I hear the wind echoing off the bottom on the canyon

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t, it says.

“I can.” I scream back. “I can,” I say a second time, softer. The wind drowns it out.

It mocks me, the sound of it’s voice carrying through the air and through my mind.

Who are you trying to fool? I hear it laugh.

Who am I trying to fool?