One bad piece of footwork and that could be the end of me. Part of me loves the fact that I could kick the bucket at any point. The other part is scared as hell that it would all be over with one slip up. It isn't necessary but fun isn't necessary either.

Most of my feet are hanging onto the actual land part of the Grand Canyon. My back is turned to the canyon and I looked onto the scorching desert.

This isn't enough. The great adventurers weren't scared to take the extra step. I need more than this.

My feet shuffled back a little more.

The sun beat down onto me as more and more of my feet hung off the plateau.

My heart started to beat quicker and quicker.

I soon only had one inch of toes holding the fate of my life.

I could go further I thought. The adventurous part of me was hungry.

Shuffle shuffle.

I was as far as I could go, only being held by my big toes.

Now the rational side of me came into play before I became some idiot who died at the Grand Canyon.

I quickly tried to get both of my feet on the surface. Of course during this, my occasional bad footwork activated.

I fell back.

This is it I thought.

A thousand things pop into my head in the half second I have.

My head slammed into the wall. The pain came quickly as it felt as though a migrain crept in. Daydreaming while leaning back in your chair has consequences.

"I told you to stop doing that Billy!" Ms. Greene yelled at me.

Whatever I told myself. I tried to get up back in my chair but I couldn't feel my legs.