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Falling from the Skies

I was thousands of feet above ground. The wind was whistling to my ears and softly stinging my face. I was with my adventurous friends who talked me into this jump of my life. As I stood at the door of the plane, I suddenly realized something about myself. I have a certain fear for heights. It could be the paranoia that something could go wrong with the gear as we freefall from that altitude. It could also be that I might just faint before we even meet half way to land.

All these whirled around me head as I stood on that ledge. I could hear my friends and instructor screaming to my ears words to boost my courage, as well as some last minute instructions. But their words were almost inaudible as it battled against the roar of the wind and the engine of the plane. In the last few seconds before our jump, I became hyperaware of my body. I could hear my heart in my ears and feel it pumping against my chest.

My breathing became ragged. My lips were noticeably dry. My palms were clammy. My eyes could only see a seemingly endless space between my feet and the earth. I suddenly heard a countdown behind me, and we jumped. I did what was instructed of me. I poised to the position that will keep me from falling too fast. The instructor who was strapped behind me was laughing wildly behind me, obviously enjoying this sport.

I, on the other hand, was still trying to accustom myself from this unnatural occurrence of falling from thousands of feet above ground. When my fears were assured and I realized that the wind actually felt good as in lashed and played around me. We were able to control our movements and angles. It felt like having the power to fly. The instructor pulled at the strings to release our parachute. There was a quick tug as the wind caught in the balloon of our chute. Then we glided down. When I landed, I wanted to do it again.

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