fight or flight

My fingers and toes clench tightly on the steps of the ladder. Up up up I go to the very top. I grasp the cold metal hand rails as hard as I can. Pull myself all the way up. There I am standing, higher than everyone else. My eyes record the people splashing, my ears tune into the children screaming and laughing. I take a step. The board is rough against my feet, and damp from the other kids braver than me who have done this a thousand times. I hold out my arms for balance, and quickly walk to the end of the board. I just want to get it over with before the fear takes over and I scramble back down. My stomach clenches as I look down into the darkness. What is there to be afraid of? Everyone else does this. Everyone else can even do cool tricks while they do it. My toes curl over the edge as I realize that there is a line of people behind me. I still have time to turn around. Someone else can go instead of me. The options and consequences tumble around in my head. My fingers clench and unclench. Water drips from my hair. A breeze blows goosebumps onto my legs and arms. Someone yells my name. So I choose to jump.

p.s. sometimes I just want to sing!