The Jump

The Jump
      The roar of the plane engine coming to life scared her. There was officially no way back, a one way ticket to… To where? To the ground, sudden death, or maybe to that joyous feeling of freedom everyone was always talking about? Her instructor was double checking his complex gear, and she felt like she had to do the same. Looking down at the vest strapped around her torso, she was baffled. Where did all those straps lead to? She looked at her instructor, who gave her a reassuring smile, and a thumbs up, but it didn’t calm her down. The bulky man across from her smiled that same reassuring smile, and squared his shoulders, yet he was fumbling with one of the straps, just like she was. The rest of the plane was empty, not particularly comforting. Bare, black and buzzing. It looked like a coffin. She shuddered.
      The massive doors opened, the blaring wind drowning out the roar of the engines. She had missed her instructor signalling the doors would be opened, as she had been staring blankly ahead. A tap on her shoulder. Two steps away from death, a flat face, or freedom. Her instructor strapped himself to her, and with a jolt of fear she realised that her one way ticket in this box really was a one way ticket.
      She stopped herself at the edge of the doors, trembling hands, barely stopping their combined weight. The roaring wind against her body made the trembling worse. It felt like turbulence, the heavy kind. She thought of the flight attendants on the several commercial flights she had taken over the years, repeating the safety protocol. She had heard the routine a many times over, but never registered a single movement. But now she’d gladly take the safety position, crouching over in her uncomfortable seat, head between her knees. She was standing on the edge of what she knew and a free fall to what was still to be discovered. Her instructor gestured for her to look outside.
      The alluring green surface of the fields, the houses barely visible, just grey blotches in a green sea. It was like browsing through the aerial pictures of the entire country. Her grandfather had them lying around the house everywhere. One of them had mesmerized her. She thought of the hours she spent looking at it, noticing the little things. Trees that looked like teal cotton balls, dark lines for roads, and green everywhere. Her grandfather had once pointed out a little speck of red near one of the lines, saying it was blood. It was a car, but she had only realised years later. Her eyes flickered over the scene below her, just as the parachute of the guy before her popped open. Bright red, like that dot on her grandfather’s picture.
      A voice shouting in her ear startled her. “Ready? On the count of three,” her instructor said.
      She looked back into the darkness, fearing it, then she looked down to the red dot, terrified.
      “One. Two. Three!” He threw his full weight against her back, and she felt her fingers slip away from the door frame. She was plunging down and all she could see was that red dot.