The Breath-Taker by Carrie Hiller

Well, for most of you, summer is over and school has started. Some of you may already be ready for summer. So for everyone who has the school blues, I have a remedy! Here's a story to take you back to summer camp....

Strapping my white helmet painfully over my head, I walk towards the one-foot tall plank platform. I check my harnesses next - they are tight and secure. Perhaps a little too tight, but better safe than sorry.

"I need two spotters!" the counselor monitoring the rope swing called the Breath-taker calls. Two of my friends, similarly decked in harnesses, stride forward. As I climb the rickety ladder to be attached to a rope, their arms are extended upward to catch me if I fall.

The counselor double-checks all of my harnesses, then attaches the rope that everyone will pull me up with. "Everyone go to the rope!" she yells. "Now, Carrie is going to say, 'Spotters ready?' And you will say, 'Ready!' She will say, 'Trusting,' and you will reply, 'Trust us, Carrie.' Then you will all pull the rope."

After a moment I repeat what I am supposed to say. The ladder is taken out from under me. I feel myself suspended ten feet into the air. Suddenly the rope jerks, and I begin to go up. Now I am twenty feet high. Now twenty-five feet, and thirty. Forty feet, fifty....

Someone yells, "You're at the top!" I open my eyes quickly; the ground spins beneath me. The height, probably seventy-five feet, makes me dizzy with fear and excitement all at the same time, and I immediately clamp my eyes shut.

I clutch the harness straps near my shoulders, only to hold on to something. As if it will keep me from falling off of the rope. Taking a deep breath, I shout, "One, two, three, Breath-taker!" Then, I yank the small rope at my side, which disconnects me from the pulley rope, and I plummet down, hanging merely from a cable. As I swing diagonally toward the platform, I open my eyes quickly, to see that I am about to crash - Whoosh! I miss it by inches (or perhaps a foot or two). Then I swing up again. Soon I am falling back down again, and up, and down, like the pendulum on a clock, all the while clinging to the harness' shoulder straps.

Just when I have a sick churning in my belly and can stand it no longer, the counselor hits her forearm against my leg, to slow me down. I go up and down once more; again, she hits my legs.

All of my muscles are still taught as I come to a halt. The ladder is put in front of me once more, so with trembling hands and knocking knees I carefully climb down.

Shaking, I unbuckle my helmet and unstrap my harnesses while walking over to my friends. They bombard me with questions.

"How was it?"

"Why'd you close your eyes the whole time?"

"Did you like it?"

Now, all in all, I must say it was pretty fun. And the name truly fits it, for it really does take your breath away.