The Shore

Cowardice has been thrown in my face for far too long. I'm standing on a boulder that juts out like a small cliff over a lake. The once pale rope has turned green with algae and is rough against my fingers. The fibers are frayed and my conscience tells me I know better. Desire to overcome my fear of the freezing water sweeps over me as I leap across the 
j
a
g
  g
e
d rocks.

My heart drops and I temporarily leave my body as time slows down and gravity begins to pull me down. Have I lost my mind? This is mutilation waiting to happen. I cannot hold on, my hands are weak against the force of the jump. The rope slips from my fingers.

Breathing is difficult with no air in your lungs. Soul crushing pain overcomes me and it's hard to remain conscious. Pain means that I'm alive. So very alive.

With my pride completely slaughtered, I pick myself up, holding my chest and attempting to regain my stability. My head hurts. I taste a little blood in my mouth. I realize how fortunate I am the freezing water clotted my injuries.

You cannot call me a coward. I have the damages to prove that I CAN DO ANYTHING.