Edge
I was on the terrace of our five-story apartment building. I should have been afraid to look down, but my excitement overshadowed that fear. The trees seemed endless, and in the distance, small and large houses stretched as far as the eye could see. The most striking thing was the low height of the terrace walls. After all, a child was in the house; you never know what children might do. And I was that child. I was standing on that low wall without my mother or grandmother beside me. With the boundless courage of being five years old, I defied the emptiness below without thinking about what might happen if I slipped.
The balcony of our neighbour momentarily caught my attention. I wondered if I could jump over there. With my childlike mind, I thought the balcony was only 5 meters away and that I could make the jump. I was confident. I was strong and agile, but at the same time, foolish. I called out to our neighbour, Auntie Olivia. When no one came to the balcony, I decided they weren’t home and gave up on jumping. If I jumped, I would be stuck there since no one was home. How would I get back home? I was making these calculations without even considering the possibility of falling and having my brain scraped off the apartment walls and the ground below.
It felt good to feel the light breeze on my face. My chocolate-coloured hair, which had once reached down to my waist but had been cut short like a boy’s because it was hard to wash, wasn’t blowing in the wind; still, it felt nice to have it gently caressed by the breeze, even though it was rarely touched. What else felt good? Being away from my mother’s tears felt good. Escaping my father’s anger felt good. Not being in the sight of my grandmother, who tried to force-feed me, felt good.
Even though I was only five years old, I knew that all good things must come to an end. If I laughed too much, I would end up crying. If I played too much, I would sweat and get sick. If I got too happy, I would get scolded. If I ran too fast, my father would grab me by the hair. If I stayed on this terrace too long, they would realise I had snuck up here, and my little moment of freedom would end in a mystery I didn’t know the outcome of. Carefully maintaining my balance, I climbed down from the wall. Slowly, I walked toward the heavy iron door of the terrace. I gently pulled it closed behind me to keep it from creaking and slid the bolt into place
