(I learned this from Paul Robalino on the behind the scenes of Game Changer. He talks about using a random word generator and then writing from that word. The word I got was dive and I’m going to write the first thing that comes into my mind.)
Every step terrifies me. Maybe I wouldn’t be so scared is if around the pool it wasn’t hard concrete but instead like a padded floor. I think that it would still hurt to land on that but it wouldn’t be as bad.
I’m at the pool at my school and I’ve been staring at this thing since I was a freshman. I’m about to graduate and I need to jump off of it. I don’t know why I have to face this fear. Maybe it’s something about a mental block to starting the rest of my life. I have to close one chapter and start on another.
I get to the top of it. It takes me a while to lift my leg up and get onto it. I feel myself slip a little bit. I grab harder to make sure that I don’t fall. I get onto the diving board. I finally see over and I freeze. I’m so high up. How does this high dive exist inside a gym? This is insane. I think I see some people standing by the edge of the pool before I scramble to the ladder. I don’t go down it, I just hang onto it for dear life. I don’t know how to get back onto it. There’s another way down but there’s no way in hell I’m taking that way. I guess I’ll just have to wait for a hunky fireman to come by and grab me.
I think I hear people calling for me. I think I saw people when I looked over the edge of the diving board. I didn’t get a long enough look to know who they were. I hear someone shout “no running” and that’s it.
I look at the ladder again and soon a face appears there. It’s Molly Anderson. Dark chestnut hair, fine features and blue eyes. Of course she’s the one to find me cowering up here. She’s always such an asshole. She’s made fun of me since we got to high school. Maybe I wanted to do this to prove that I was as good as her. Not that I’d ever admit that to her. Not even now.
She looks like she’s worried. It’s probably a trick.
“Hey, are you okay?” Molly asks softly.
“Doing great,” I say.
“You look like you’re scared.”
“Why don’t I save us some time and say that I am and you can start making fun of me.”
“Not up here. If you’re scared, I want you to get down safely. I only make fun of people on firm ground.”
“Why do you make fun of people all the time?”
“You make fun of me too!”
“Because you make fun of me!”
“Who made fun of who first?”
“You did!”
“You did!”
Now that we’re talking about this, I honestly can’t remember when I started to hate her. Here at the end of my life, I’m starting to think about how I actually enjoy our verbal sparring. Oh shit, she’s starting to talk again.
“The fact of the matter is that I was right where you were the first time I came up here,” Molly says. “My first meet, I saw a girl fall off the high dive and get hurt. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”
“Thanks for letting me know that. Good glimpse into my future,” I respond.
“That’s not going to happen as long as I can help it. Do you want me to help you down? I can come up there or stay down here and get you on the ladder. I won’t play any tricks on you or do anything. I just want to make sure you’re safe. You can trust me.”
I do trust her. I remember there was one night when her and her friends found my best friend, Stacy, crying after her dipshit ex broke up with her. He had made fun of her and bragged about cheating. Molly had taken care of her because I was out of town. She told me that she had been a bit drunk and they had made sure she got home safe. They had listened to and comforted her. She wasn’t that big an asshole now that I thought about it.
“Why are you up here?” Molly asks.
“I was scared to do this and I wanted to prove it to myself that I could do it,” I reply.
“Okay, do you want me to talk you through it? Let’s start easy. Take a few deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
I do as she instructs. I do find myself calming down. My heart stops beating in my ears.
“Good, you’re already looking calmer. Now, put your feet on the diving board. Slowly. Feel it under your feet. Don’t let go of the railing. Take your time with it under your feet.”
I do as she instructs me. I twist my legs so that I can feel the rough plastic under my feet. I decide to skip to the next step. I stand up.
“There you go,” Molly says. “Can you turn towards the edge?”
“Yeah,” I say.
I turn my body so that I’m facing the edge. My fear is waiting to swallow me up.
“Okay, if you’re going to jump, the best way to do it is with your arms at your sides and feet pointed down. Don’t try and dive, just take a big step off and think about how the water is going to swallow you up,” Molly says. “You’ll hit the water and swim back up.”
“I’m trying my best but I’m not quite there,” I tell her.
“Girls!” Molly shouts. “Give, Jackie some motivation!”
I hear the girls below me start to cheer and call my name. I feel the fear start to dissipate. Eventually, fuck it.
I walk the short distance and then what’s below me just disappears. I snap my legs and arms together. I have enough time to think, “Shouldn’t I have hit the water by now?” and then I hit the water. I slam into the luke warm water and feel my heart jump for joy. I did it. I survived. I swim to the surface. My head breaks out and I look around.
I hear someone yelling above me and Molly slams into the water. She swims towards me with a smile on her face. She hugs me.
“You did it!” she says.
“Holy shit, my feet hurt,” I say.
“Yeah, that happens.”
The other girls jump into the pool. They swarm me and tell me that they’re proud of me too. A firm voice suddenly calls out.
“Hey girls, what’s going on?” the voice belonging to Coach Taylor says.
“Sorry, coach,” I say.
“We do have to practice, Jackie. Could you give us the pool?”
“Sure, sorry.”
I climb out of the pool vowing to come back later. The girls climb up on their blocks. Molly stops me as I start heading for the locker room.
“Hey, you did really good,” Molly says.
“Thanks for helping me through that,” I tell her.
“No worry.”
“You know maybe you’re not such an asshole.”
“I thought the same thing about you.”
“See you around.”
“Yeah, see ya.”
Tomorrow we might be at it again. But maybe we both don’t have to go so hard.
Franklin Cota, an author and podcaster 