The Girl

(For Alyssa)

The wind itself seems in agreeance with this, her most important decision, pushing her frail body toward destruction. She clenches her toes, an unconscious movement; her body's vain attempt to save itself from a mind set on committing treason. Ruby rivers fan from her hands as she grates them along the metal rope - the small twines finding their way into her palms and fingertips. She welcomes the warmth. Her hair is plastered to her face, perhaps if it were not for this she would have retreated  -- a raging river is far more disconcerting when you can watch it, white diamonds skating across the surface. But as it is she cannot see the world and she prefers it that way. She leans over the river, allowing all thoughts to be drowned out. When she leans too far, one of her wet, white feet slips and she finds herself closer than ever to her fate. She is hardly surprised when she does not feel the heat of fear rise in her stomach. She is not afraid, she is prepared.