Stroke Of Fear

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   I wasn’t always this way. Scared. Frightened. Timid. I used to live. In every way imaginable. Now, I’m a shell of that person. I’m empty. The chill that’s overtaking me is the chill that used to thrive in me.

   The breeze from the water below smashes into me like a brick. The familiar smell registers within me and my knees weaken. The endless bottom is staring up at me, its rushing rapids hitting hard against the cliff I’m standing on. I clench my fist as I take a step toward the edge. I can’t seem to make myself look the other way. It seems too close, like every step back I’ve taken the cliff inches closer, wanting to pull me down to the black abyss of water that’s waiting to swallow me whole.

   “Aubrey, just jump already.”

   A lump forms in my throat. I can’t respond. They don’t know any better. They don’t know anything. I didn’t dare tell anyone what happened four years ago. It’s like swallowing acid to talk about it.

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