The First Step

• Theresa Suckling, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2010

I’m standing on what appears to be the edge of the world, with a sea of bright red soil beneath me. I am afraid of what may happen to me if I were to fall. I’d imagine it would be a rather quick and painless end concluding what feels like an eternity of falling.
As a brisk wind picks up, causing small thin blankets of dust to get plastered to a layer of sweat painted across my forehead. Even though the night appears cool, the heat from the day earlier stills hangs in the air.
There is then a low murmur of a voice to my left, ‘You are all set, don’t be frightened just think of it as a day like any other. Just let yourself become lost in the moment.’
I am then reminded of earlier this week. Exams were fast approaching and I felt as if something were amiss. I did not feel like myself and felt as if I was left alone, fighting this joke in which we call an education system, left alone to try and scale the brick wall which was a mountain of homework.
I cannot deal with this anymore. My mother…school…work…I just wanted it all to end. I just wanted to end it all.

The voice is then answered by another, this time coming from my right. It was soft and low and full of concern, ‘This is foolish, think of all the people that would…’
Ignoring the many voices surrounding me I stepped off the cliff face.
I am now falling. It is dark all around.
My body is slowly feeling lighter and lighter.
My vision blurs and my hair begins to stand on end. A cool rush of wind began to pound through to my very bones.
Everything seemed to make sense and yet still not, simultaneously. I was frightened and exhilarated; fresh bursts of adrenalin pumping through my veins.
I was at peace with everything around me. My mother’s death no longer hindered me, my thankless job seemed less of a burden and for the first time in years I had a sense of hope.
I can now see the earth rising up towards me, getting closer and closer.
There is no life on it, only dust, I do not want to go near it, but at the same time long for its warm embrace.
I am just above the warm red earth that is Central Australia, the soil now blowing into my deep brown hair, leaving it a reddish tinge. It’s now warm as opposed to the rest of my body.
I could just about reach out my hand and touch the ground below.
There was a scream from above.
My tether then reaches its end.

I begin to float upwards towards the voice, the voice not screaming out of shock or fear, but of excitement.

I am bungy jumping, in Central Australia and, similar to life, it has its ups and downs.