This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Kutztown chapter.
I’m standing on the edge.
The twin buildings, sun gleaming.
Shining, the side of the building is shining and reflective,
and my adult face is met with a child staring back.
Me.
Eyes wide and clear, yet hauntingly blue,
dirty blonde curls falling over them,
Freckles dotting across my nose–
“Shirley Temple.”
My great-uncle. Nickname. Me.
A kid laughing.
Languid, like water. The air is thick. Hard to move.
I continue.
In the distance: a volcano. Erupting.
The building shakes, smoke fills the air, what’s happening?
Screams of terror, jet lines painting the sky–
CRASH.
Another shake. The ledge is appealing. I glance over.
Rubble. Smoke. Fire. But the ground?
Safe.
The building shakes.
Only escape?
Down.
The building shakes.
And I fall.