I looked at the sign and thought they must have been joking I mean what I crossed was a bridge so how hard could it be. I thought that I had overcome my fear but this was just the beginning. I kept walking until it abruptly stopped on another island again. The island leads to an old rickety bridge. Now I’m starting to wonder when that sign was written.
I started to cross when I felt like I was going fall through one of the boards that were overly broken to begin with. I know that if I fall through I’m as good as dead since I can hear the water rushing below. Even though I know that's totally impossible since we should be thousands of meters in the air. Here’s what will happen. I fall through and as I’m falling my life flashes through my eyes. I didn’t even get to say I love you once more before this to my parents. When I hit the water, I hope for instantaneous death to put me out of pain. Either that or to pass out instantaneously and wake up the next day on the shores of where ever the tides bring me. Then slowly but surely I’ll die to my injuries that I sustained on my way down trying to figure out what to do next.
However as I was thinking about the horrible tragedy that might befall me I was able to cross the bridge. Ironic isn’t it that I was able to cross the very thing while I was thinking about how it would bring my life to a terrible end.