When it came to my family, I was a failure. My siblings were expert swimmers, and my parents won swimming championships throughout their lives. My family was always drowned with praise, but whenever people looked at me, I was the black sheep- I couldn’t swim.
Despite that, there was one thing that I knew I loved to do: climbing.
I wanted to test my skills out on this lighthouse that was a few blocks away from my home. In the middle of the night, I grabbed my 40” length rope, and ran my way to the lighthouse.
I wasn’t a good runner either, so I got there in a pretty average time.
The lighthouse was abandoned, so there was no ‘light’ actually emanating from it. I barged inside, ran to the top, and tied my rope around the guard railing.
I hopped over the edge, rope in hand, and used my feet to push away from the lighthouse as I descended. I could feel every crack slithering against the soles of my feet.
Shortly after, I heard a small creak before my rope lost its tension to support me.
I’d have been fine if I didn’t land into the water.
Word Count: 199 words
This was written for the Sunday Photo Fiction Challenge.