Course of fate

I could feel the brisk wind pulling me as I attempted to climb the slippery, paint covered cement. The sharp stench of spray paint gently whistled through my nose. As I mounted the inside of the colorful bridge, I could feel my hands stick to the paint covering the protracted beams beneath the bridge. Cars whistled over head as I found my balance, and embraced the drafty atmosphere. Turning my gaze to the ground far far below, my stomach slowly began to turn, and my eyes blurred a little at the rocks below. I scampered towards one of the massive pillars holding up the bridge. I practically collapsed on the pillar, as it was the only sustainable thing to hold. Without thinking, I clambered even higher, to one of the beams that extended across to the other side. With only a moments hesitation I began my journey across. My arms were drawn-out to a shaft above my head, in order to keep my balance all the way. Within moments, I had reached the other side and was securely leaned up against a pier. After being there for a length of time, I had forgotten that this was illegal.

I could faintly hear my sisters vocalizing amongst themselves. I couldn’t hear them all the way as I was in somewhat of a daze, admiring the world around me. I slowly came to and developed a slight paranoia that someone might catch us. I noticed some police lights flashing on the rocks above. I figured it was just just someone being pulled over and I didn’t have anything to worry about, but that didn’t stop me from worrying. It appeared that my sisters didn’t notice the lights, because they just kept chatting. My forehead began to drip, I yelled across the beam and told pointed at the lights. To my dismay, they didn’t hear me over their giggles. A couple of minutes later, I noticed someone strolling down the dirt road leading to the majestic falls. The cans. The cans were lying in the other side of the bridge, just out in the open. My eyes widened in frustration. It would take at least 30 seconds for me to get back across. Within a moment, I was on my feet and reaching up to the shaft. My feet wobbled a little as I gripped the plank. I steadily began to cross over the frigid water beneath the bridge. For a moment, I glanced over to the path. I could see now that the person was a woman, she looked pretty professional. Turning my glare back to the cans, I briefly noticed my sisters frantically scrambling to hide them as well.

I began to wonder who the woman was and what she was doing here. At that moment, my imagination swept me up. What if she was a police officer? Then, she would take us to the local police department because this place is closed. She would call our mom and then we would get picked up and lectured when we got home. If she was another person doing graffiti, she might cover our master piece. If she was a hood, she might demand that we leave, or call her gang out to toss us out. Nonsense. I told myself this was all nonsense and that she was probably just some person who snuck in just like we did, here to chill or something. I began to panic as she climbed the small slope up to the flat area near the rocks. She was drawing closer, and closer. All I thought to do was sit, and wait for fate to take its course on me.