Without Hesitation (Open)

Dysis Admea

A dream will always live in your mind,
It's something to work toward, not to find.
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Whenever I fall, I try not to look down. The fast approaching ground seems to tie reality back into my moments where dreams come alive. I always focus on the sky, and the endless possibilities. My mom used to say that there was an old saying. The sky is the limit. And my dad would always grin and reply that the sky is not a limit, but a minimum. It took be a while to understand what he meant. Anything's possible- if you aim high, you'll accomplish even greater things. So the sky has always been an inspiration to me. It's always been the symbol for dreams and accomplishment in my mind. And so, when my heart is full and my mind free, I look toward the sky and feel the freedom pumping through my body, and love the way all the stress just isn't there. So I didn't see the boy. Not until he spoke.

People say that I'm probably secretly afraid of the fall, but just won't admit it. I don't argue. How can I explain to them that even after falling without the rope, and hurting myself, I still am not afraid. I still love the thrill. They would never understand. They would stare at me and shake their heads and wonder why I'm not classified as crazy. I know they don't like my falling. Still, I can't help but be surprised when I see the look of horror and disbelief on this boy's face. I can tell he's older than me, although I can't guess how many years. One or two. Not too big of a difference. Still, I always feel young in the presence of an older teenager. They always tell me I have to let go of my childhood. They think playing pretend is for kids. Well, I still am a kid.

I ignore the burning sensation that is eating away at the skin on my palms, and allow my arms to relax at my sides, hoping the cool air will soothe the raw skin. My face breaks into a grin, and I tilt my head to one side, my thoughts of pain and slight annoyance at myself washed away by the new curiosity that stands before me. I'm not used to other people. Of course, I go to school, and have a few friends, but most people avoid me. I'm the crazy girl who leaps out of trees. Somehow, they associated my love of falling with my sanity. They say I think I'm a bird. I've always ignored this rumor- those who are worth knowing will realize it is untrue and won't judge me for it.

Suddenly, just as I'm about to answer, a thought strikes me. I turn around, glances at the rope, which still swings back in force in a solo dance. I squint as I look up, my lashes attempting to keep the bright sun out of my eyes as I try to spot the knot. It's up high. I'll have to climb up to untie it. I turn back and lift my hands, palms up. They are already move bright red, and as I curl them, a tingling pain zips up and down them. I try not to cringe at the thought of climbing back up and untying the rope, and remind myself that this is the consequence of loosening my grip. I've been falling for years now. I know what to do and what not to do. My hands will be fine. I think there's a plant somewhere around the area that cools burns, that I've used in the past.

But I hault my train of thought, reminding myself that I have company. The look of shock on his face makes me want to laugh, but I don't. Instead, I nod. "Yeah, I'm fine, with the exception of some rope burn." I glance up at the tree that I fell from. "I've had a lot of practice. I know what I'm doing."

Dysis Admea

Leap
And I promise, you will fall.
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I've never been one to talk a lot. Ever since I starting jumping out of trees, people classified me as insane, and never thought about it again, so I've never had the chance to talk to people. They never try. I got used to being quiet, and hearing conversations, but not joining them. Listening to others speak, but never answering a question that wasn't directed at me. Like a ghost, I drift through the halls of school, stopping by different groups of people and listening in before moving to another. They hardly ever acknowledge my presence, which is probably a good thing. Who knows what they would say if they didn't ignore me? While I may be an outcast at school, I'm happy. I guess I sort of adapted to the way people treated me.

So when this boy- Milo, I think is what he said his name was- just starts pouring out all these words, I am both startled and confused. He asks a few questions, but before I can answer, he's moved on, talking more and more. His hands waves around him in enthusiasm, telling their own sort of story, and eventually, I just do what I do best. I close my mouth, quit trying to respond, and listen, my eyes slightly wider than normal, and eyebrows raised. When he's finally finished, I feel like a should be panting, for the effort of trying to hold onto the words that flew at me like bullets. For a moment, there is nothing but still silence in the woods, and I grasp onto the moment like I grasp onto my rope at the end of a fall, trying to organize my thoughts. A bird calls out, adding on to the serenity of everything, and the shock on my face is washed off, quickly replaced with a warm smile.

"My hands will be fine," I say, shaking my head. Holding up one finger to signify that I will be right back, I walk over to the tree and open my backpack, wincing a little as I grip the zipper between my two hands. Rope burn is not an uncommon injury for me, but it's usually not too severe. However, after I came home with my very first, my parents insisted that I bring the medical supplies to treat it when I went falling. It's the least I can do, really. I turn around, back toward him, carrying a few alcohol swabs, some anti-bacterial cream, and a bandage. While peeling away the shiny, smooth paper, I look up at him with shining turquoise eyes.

"My name's Dysis," I say, applying the anti-bacteria cream with care. I rub my hands together gently to ensure that it's spread all over the burn. "Dysis Admea." I add, remembering that he used both his first and last name. My mother always warned me not to give my full name out to strangers, but this boy seems nice and sincere. I'm sure she's make an exception for him. Besides, I think, if he does end up being some sort of kidnapper or something, I'll just climb a tree as fast as I can. Even with injured hands, that should be fast.

I twist the clean bandage around my right hand, hiding bright pink and slightly torn flesh underneath artificial white. It certainly looks cleaner, although my movements of it are slightly restricted, and the palms still sting and tingle underneath. I switch hands, and look up at him again, the bandage being wrapped around my hand with automatic movements. "I love jumping out of trees. You can say it's dangerous, but just compare jumping out of trees to swimming. A person can drown when they swim if they don't know how. A person can die falling if they don't know how. It's the same basic concept. Of course, the rope could break, but there could always be a sharp current that could slam you into a rock, or a shark if you're swimming in District Four."

I gaze up at the tree tops, my eyes wide with wonder. The higher I fall from, the more wonderful it is. The more beautiful. There's that feeling of freedom that clings onto me as I fall faster and faster, the air lifting my blonde hair up above my shoulders. They can call me crazy, but they'll never know. They'll constantly be help down my gravity, crushed under the weight of they're own worries and desires, while I'm free of it all, as light as air and as unfettered by anything. "It's really worth it. People can say what they want to, but they won't understand what it feels like until they try it for themselves. It's not just beautiful. It's spellbinding. Once you've felt it, all you want is to leap one more time. But it never is." I look up toward the still blue sky again, my smile becoming softer, and my eyes distant. "You're always coming back again."

I blink, and everything seems to crash back down on me again. I throw the supplies and wrappers back behind me, onto my back pack, and grin. "You should try it sometime. It's pretty amazing."