I was flying across the red-stained canyon, my arms outstretched, reaching for the other side. The moment my blistered, bare feet left the ground, so did the weight of it all.
All the pain.
All the tears.
All the gashes in my heart.
I leaped off that cliff like a wild hare running from a forest fire. The wind snapped at my turquoise t-shirt and the rosy pink of the sun burned at my eyes. The wind screamed in my ears, making any bird calls impossible to hear. Before I knew it, the moment was slipping through my hands like water, and I snapped my baby blues closed as my skinny arms connected with the limestone at the other side. I skidded a little ways, landing sprawled out, scuffing my hands so badly that crimson blood made an appearance. There was a millisecond of silence, and then I opened my mouth, outpouring the sweetest of sounds. I laughed. I laughed so hard my stomach ached. I laughed because no matter what, even if they lock me up or take all my family away, I would still have this moment. This jump that gained my ten seconds of total and utter