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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Evangelism (11/01/07)

TITLE: Falling up.
By Hannah McClellan


Help me, I am falling.

Help me I am falling up. I can't stop. I am escaping my fears, I am escaping my demons. They are grabbing at my hair, running their fingers through it. But I am escaping. I'm falling, and the angels are singing. They have got their glass harps, and they are humming in my ears. The people are bustling around me. Talking. Laughing. Crying. Hurting. Some of them are trying to fit their art in frames, and some of them are letting it run free on a canvas. Some of them are trying to keep their heart beating, some of them are trying desperatly to make it stop. I met a man. He was falling down from the edge of a building, as I was falling up. He past right by me, he screamed right by me. I held out my hand for him to grab, but he wanted his heart to stop so badly. But he looked in my eyes, he looked directly in my eyes. He couldn't see me. I don't think they see me. I don't think they see me floating up. I want to take some of them with me. I see the people I love, I want to touch their skin. But my hand can't reach them, I'm falling up too fast. I'm going to softly weep, I'm going to softly weep. My tears will fall to the earth like rain. Is this what happens when it rains? Is it just the people that get to escape, trying to bring their loved ones with them. If it is, I want my tears to dance down. I want them to dance off their skin, and dance on the top of water. The world has a different smell, below the clouds. Down there it makes everything under your skin hurt, the smell of fire. But the air above, it smells like warm honey. Like the kind you mix with your tea. I like to think I got lucky, being able to fall up. But it was probably just mercy. But my heart hurts. Because even from up here, I can see behind everyones eyes. I can see their urge to scream. I don't know how this happens, I don't know how you fall up. Maybe I was touched by a stranger's hand while walking down the street, or maybe I gave my heart to someone. I gave my heart to him. Maybe I will get to go back down there, but I won't fall. Maybe I'll be placed delicately. Maybe I'll be given a job, a purpose. Maybe I'll be placed to change something, or maybe must to scream. I hope it's to be able to hold my hand out to that person who wants to stop their heartbeat, though. So I can tell them why I fell up, who it was that caused me to fall up. How he holds my heart in his palm, turning my heartbeat to hymns. Everything is so white up here, it's so clean. It's hard to want to go back to a place where no one has the courage to scream. I don't want to go back. Okay, maybe I do. I already got the chance to escape, but I feel like those people need to know something. It smells like warm honey, but I'm ready to face the fire. I've got someone living in my heart now, and I want to face the fire. Maybe I just might have to fall, I'm afraid of the pain. It's so much easier going up, than going down. I wish people understood that. Maybe I will tell them, when I get back down. Maybe I will tell them. Here it goes. I hope someone catches me. I hope he catches me.

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This article has been read 356 times
Member Comments
Member Date
Laury Hubrich 11/14/07
This is very interesting and I love the title. If only you had put some paragraphs in and spaced between them. It would make it much easier and much more enjoyable to read. It's probably what's kept others away. If I'm reading this right -- it's a description of heaven and hell, right? Very good job. You gave me some things to think about!