My legs shake uncomfortably, hot puffs of air lurk out of my mouth. I tightly grip onto the rope, feeling as if I was about to slip. I gradually start moving sideways, stepping on to tope underneath my feet. The two ropes are like parallel lines, they’ll never meet.
My grip starts to loosen. I panic, I turn my head slightly down, eyes glued onto the dirty, polluted river.
I try to move quicker, I try to get out of this situation as fast as possible, yet my head was still down my grip was still loose, my legs felt as if they were about to collapse at any moment.
My heart pounded faster than the wind itself. I harshly made it halfway, and the scenery of bright, vivid trees started to cover the dark river.
Even though I do this every day, I’ll never get used to this horrible scenario.