by Wren Ruby, 6th
I was sitting, heaving my teal helmet over my head. My heart shattered out of my chest, and my body felt light, as if I had no bones in me. The sticky air clung to my skin like hot lemonade with the scent of redwood trees wavering.
I couldn’t. The freefall stared back at me, daring me to jump.
I opened my mouth to ask for it. But I couldn’t.
When voices broke out, pulling me out from my unconsciousness, I had to. I heard carabiners open and anxiety ringing in my ears.
When a long rope hung from my waist, I knew I couldn’t back out. Then I pulled myself forward with momentum, and felt my body flying through thin air. I was defenseless against the wind. My blood dropped to my ankles. I began to feel lightheaded, as my legs and arms went numb, like big, heavy, cement mittens. I felt my vision become foggy just as the zipline slowed to a sight of trees and a wood platform. A man stared at me. “First zipline?” he chuckled, pulling off my rope. My hands shook as I wrapped my shaking fingers around the steps of the ladder, and I climbed down.
The voice of a girl rang out, and I felt her skinny arms wrap around me. “Are you okay?”
Oakland | East Bay, CA