Short Story

Byron L

Mrs. Belden

Honors English I

6 October 2014

Free Fall

When I was eight, I went to the fair with my two best friends at the time, Lily and Kate. We had to much fun, pigging out on junk food there. It was a blast until Lil saw the rainbow-colored Ferris Wheel and begged her mom to buy tickets for us to ride. That was the first time I figured out I was terrified of heights. I didn’t even ride the thing, just looking at how high each seat went was enough for me. That didn’t stop Lil and Kate from riding it, though. Lil’s mom was nice enough to buy me an ice cream cone while we waited for them to ride the stupid wheel. They looked like they were having so much fun up there, laughing and talking. Why couldn’t that be me? The rest of the day at the fair was ruined for me, all because I was too scared of the giant wheel. 
On my tenth birthday, I was excited to finally be allowed go to the community pool on my own, no parents looking over me. I went with Kate and Chloe (Lily had moved away the previous year). Kate dared us to jump off the high dive, so after some hemming and hawing, Chloe jumped off. She came out of the water a little shaken, but happily surprised. Me? Well, let’s just say somebody fainted before she even got to the top of the stairs and the lifeguard had to intervene. When my year-younger brother Ben found out that someone was me, he never let me live it down. 
Now five years later, I still haven’t gotten over my batophobia (When you have such a controlling phobia, you’re tempted find out the actual name.), but in fact I’ve gone to the ends of the earth trying to deny having it in front of my friends. Which is tough when it’s constantly weighing you down at the pool, fair, or any elevated ground, really. That’s why when my parents decided to take a family vacation to West Virginia because they’d heard you could bungee jump on a bridge someplace there for a really cheap price, I almost choked on my dinner. 
“WHAT?” I cried. “Mom, you KNOW I’m terrified of heights, and Ben is just going to tease me relentlessly while we’re on that stupid bridge! You’re basically handing me a death sentence! I’m only fifteen, I have my whole life ahead of me still . . . .” I trailed off, analyzing all the ways I could die or fall off the bridge, but I knew I was overreacting some.
“Jenny hon, don’t be silly,” Mom soothed, using her baby name for me. “We aren’t trying to kill you. You don’t have to jump if you don’t want to, but your father and I just want you to try out new things! Don’t let one little thing keep you from new experiences. You never know how fun it could be. And the bridge is very safe.” I sighed and decided to give up, even though I was still shaking just thinking about standing on that bridge. Jumping? Are people crazy?

Flash forward to summer vacation, where my family and I are now standing on the bridge, held back by a thin metal railing atop a ledge. Imagine people laughing as they jump off the ledge, harnessed in of course. It’s happening all around me. With a wide river snaking below the bridge and the wind whistling in my ears a melody, it’s enough to make anyone sigh with content. Not this girl, though! But the funny thing is, looking down to the river’s kind of breathtaking. Maybe it’s cause we’re so high up everything seems so artificial, as if I’m really just looking at a picture of a bird’s eye view of West Virginia. Then my breath catches fast when I see Ben jump, yet another time. Okay, that’s enough of looking down so far away, I think and turn around to sit at the tables with Mom. The next part happens like a dream, one minute I’m about to meet my mom, next blurry transition later I’m falling through the air. Everything seems to happen a second before I catch on: I don’t realize I’ve been knocked off the edge of the railing  (accidentally? on purpose?) until I’m, falling through the air, I don’t realize I’m falling until I smack the water. It’s all in slow motion, like I’m traveling through syrup or something. In my subconscious I know I’m a goner, falling 317 feet with nothing to catch me. Hurling at the river a million miles a minute. But when I wrap my head around the idea of dying so suddenly, I can’t even think of all the things I’d come to love while being alive. The only thing rushing through my mind is the prospect of finally being free of my stupid anxiety whenever I approach elevated grounds. I remember every single time I was ridiculed, embarrassed, overcome with jealousy and anger, all because I couldn’t do the one thing everyone else seemed to be able to do: look down.

And finally, I’m free.

Thinking About Thinking

     I changed a lot of things from my first draft to my second draft. The biggest thing I changed was in Part II, and it was Wargrave's (my character) reaction to the whole cheating ordeal. At first, he only ratted out the people who bragged about getting high scores, but I realized that didn't reflect the person he was in the book. So I changed it to make sure Wargrave turned in not only himself, but everyone else who cheated, as well. So changing Part II meant I also had to change Part III's content regarding the comparison of how he and I both reacted to the cheating situation. So that affected the length; the draft started out as three full pages and ended up at five. Also, I went through to make sure I wasn't repetitive in terms of word choice, and I also changed the title and double checked my MLA format.
     I think the peer review checklist helped me the most, because having a whole list of stuff you need to include can be overwhelming so I forgot to put some stuff. By having my peers make sure I wasn't missing anything important, it made me be more aware while I revised my rough draft. I'll be honest, I didn't ask my parents to read it, or my brother, just because I was pretty proud of it, and I had already gotten a lot of helpful feedback from my peers already. As for the written feedback on the times writing, I didn't receive much so I couldn't really apply it to my essay.
     What will help me improve my writing this year is feedback from any teacher, or anonymous student revision because sometimes kids can be biased when they look at their friends' paper. So by having it anonymous, they won't be afraid to be honest about what they think of the ideas in an essay or story.
     I know I have a lot of room to grow as a writer, since it's not my strongest suit as a student. I hope to grow more in creative writing because I have trouble in the creative department. One goal I'd like to achieve this year is to write a really good story that reaches into a reader's mind.