I couldn’t breathe. I felt myself falling deeper and deeper and lower and lower into the softness of the blanket as it curled its edges around me; it sought to keep me in its cold comfort forever - and I’d let it too. Closing my eyes so peacefully, I let go - and the shouts became increasingly distant until all I could hear were the thoughts inside my mind, and all I could feel was the panic and gloom as they faded like the beating of my heart.
A cliffside seemed to be the worst place for a family picnic, but I never said anything since I assumed it was the nerves talking again. Instead, I sat in silence and observed the scenery: surrounding us were mountains that peaked up above the clouds as if they were ladders to the heavens, engraved with the struggles of wandering travellers from the past, and dark enough in colour to pass as mere silhouettes even on the brightest day. The clouds encircling the tops of the mountains swept along the sky so perfectly, it seemed they were strolling on glass. Below, a thick blanket of blue - absorbing the paleness of the afternoon sky and the shadow-like features of the mountains to form a navy that was intersected by a colour several shades lighter (where the mountains had not made an impression). I stood up and took some steps to the edge of the cliff, watching the scene unfold further before my eyes. Life would just be downhill now, I thought, because nothing could get better than this.
Another step.
The clouds seemed to shift a little oddly - as if they were anticipating something to happen.
Another step.
The dark of the mountains lifted ever so slightly as the clouds parted for a moment, so that they seemed to light up, and then fade back. I laughed to myself a little: it was as if they were signalling some sort of alarm.
Another step.
I barely noticed as the rocks beneath my shoe broke off smaller rocks that fell down from our mighty height, and were claimed by the blanket below. I barely noticed the sudden shouts of alarm and panic from my family behind me. I barely noticed as I unknowingly gambled something so dear with the cliffside, betting all my weight on the very piece of rock that gave way as I stepped on it. As I stepped on it, the rock crumbled in seconds - and I had noticed by then - but it was too late. Frantically, I turned around as my vision dropped significantly in seconds, catching glimpses of my shocked, horrified, terrified family, glancing at the clouds as they stopped still in their tracks, watching the mountains don their darkest colours again, and squeezing my eyes shut because my brain was too busy screaming and my heart was too busy racing and my arms were too busy flailing in the cold and harsh wind for me to do anything else to protect myself except lose my vision and pretend for a second that it all wasn’t real.
Like those small, helpless rocks, I too was absorbed by the blanket.
I couldn’t breathe. The blanket encompassed me, holding a warmth with such cold intensity that I paused in my panic to question how a feeling so aggressive could bring so much peace at the same time. It felt like I was being hugged. Hugged so hard, that I wouldn’t be able to breathe for much longer. All at once, my arms felt light like feathers of a bird, my heart rate slowed into a faint, rhythmic beating, my brain mellowed its previous neon flashes of panic and misery into the wistful colours of hindsight and regret - as my eyes caught one last look at the towering mountains: watching such a victim be claimed by the comfort of the blanket, and observing as I sunk into an eternal sleep.
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