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If I remember rightly I was but
a small child when I first developed my fear of heights. My parents had taken my
elder brother, my sister and me on a trip to the coast. On the day in question
the family had set out for a walk along the top of the cliffs, which overhung
the small beach at its base. I could hear the rustling sea and the waves
crashing onto the shore as we made our way along the coastal path. Eventually
under protest my parents decided to stop for lunch. The servant that accompanied
us laid out the picnic on the blanket spread on the ground. We set down to lunch
and soon finished our meal. My parents deigned to sit and rest for a while so as
an energetic and curios young boy I decided to explore my surroundings.
Our governess tried to keep an
eye on me, Charlotte and Joseph but it was an impossible task. I for my part
decided to take a closer look at what was over the edge of the cliff. I waited
until everyone’s attention was occupied somewhere else then ran down to the
edge and peered over. I was so close to the edge that my toes poked over the
top. It was at that moment that the governess noticed my absence and saw my
precarious position; she cried out to me to come back but as I turned my foot
slipped and the edge of the cliff crumbled beneath my feet. The cliff was
slightly slanted and I slid down the incline in a cloud of stones and dust
trying to stop my decent. I cried out for help franticly grabbing at the chalky
surface in a futile attempt to stop myself. I was rather surprised when I was
abruptly stopped in mid fall. I looked up my jacket had snagged on a branch of
some sort that was sticking out of the cliff face. My legs and hands hurt a lot
they were all scraped and bleeding. My clothes were all torn and covered in dust
from the fall. I called again at the top of my voice for help. When I looked up
I could see my father looking down at me he called out, “D’ye hear me
Ashley? Are ye alright?”
I called back that I was stuck
and that my jacket was caught on the branch. He told me to wait that he was
going to get some help.
I was rather scared hanging
there and when I looked below it seemed a long way down. The once rather
friendly beach and cool water now seemed scary and cruel. It was there waiting
for me to fall so that it could swallow me. I felt really scared, my stomach
twisted with fear and I imagined myself falling to my death. I was petrified;
suddenly I heard the sound of tearing material and I slipped down a few inches,
my stomach leaped. When I looked up part of my jacket had ripped I was now held
their by a small scrap of my jacket. I was petrified my head spun and I cried.
I'm not ashamed to admit it. I was so scared I cried. I wanted to go home.
It seemed to take forever for
my father to come and rescue me aided by some of the locals. He was lowered down
on the end of a rope. When he reached me he took hold of me with a firm grip and
we were pulled up the cliff face to safety.
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