Mia Tamondong (10) l STAFF REPORTER
I’m awake. I glance around as if that would help, but all I’m met with is blank space. Nothingness. It’s dull. Everything is so dull. It’s cold here, wherever “here” is, and I begin to shiver. I try to make sense of it all, the grey, the chills, the sensation of being suspended in something I can’t see. Before I can understand my surroundings I’m falling.
I’m heavy, much more materialistic than before, much more real. Tears are streaming out of my eyes, the wind burns my skin, and I feel as though I’m on fire, but I’m so very alive. I hold my breath as the falling sensation sinks into my core. Uncomfortable at first then… I’m falling. It’s thrilling, exhilarating even. My vision clears and I finally realize what’s happening. There are others like me falling, as far as the eye can see. What are we? The intrusive thoughts stayed at the back of my mind and I couldn’t keep the grin from stretching across my face. With my body spread wide, I embraced my fate with open arms.
This goes on for what seems like an eternity. Falling, no resistance, without consequence until I see something. Far in the distance. Harsh irregular shapes, all grey and dull. We speed towards them, never faltering, only increasing in speed.
Panic sends chills through my body, I struggle to think clearly. I try to think of something, anything to do to stop myself from hurtling at the ground, but it’s impossible. Those grey shapes turn into rectangles; defined, tall, horrifying. I brace myself for the impact, holding my breath as I reach the surface. The earthy fresh scent fills the air, what could have been pleasant warns me of the moment yet to come. The pattering sounds of those around me echoing endlessly.
Three, I take in my last moments here.
Two, I admire the bright lights adorning metal boxes.
And one…
“Damn it, it’s raining,” I hear a muffled voice say.
Rain. That’s what I must be. Rain. I feel the sudden pressure of hitting the ground and wonder when it’ll rain again, and this endless cycle will continue.
