Instability - Gia Rossum
There is always this nauseating feeling when I look down at the ground; the platform sways under me like a calm ocean. I feel my heart begin to beat faster and faster with each motion. I can feel warm tears rolling down my cheeks. I’m like a baby crying in their mother’s rocking arms, yet I don’t feel comfort; no, distress is more of the term. I feel like I can’t get my footing together, my body is trembling so badly. It’s trembling against the swaying of the floor I’m standing on. If one single step is misplaced, I’ll surely fall into agony. The world fades to black as I lay in a puddle of red.
*
The thought of unstable heights is quite frightening to me. The way the object I am standing on looks, the sketchiness of it. The rust, the wear, the creaking. With each footstep, it feels like it’s falling apart more and more, the creaking getting louder, the wear and tear more visible to my eyes. It makes me want to cry, searching for something to hold on to for dear life, but everything I can grab feels like it will shatter with one light touch. Though I am unafraid of death, it’s the thought of not dying from it that scares me the most– it’s the outcome of falling from something that someone said is trustworthy. Being lied to, just to fall and shatter into many glass pieces, my body a mess from a single lie.