Personal Narrative-Sacrifice

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The wood chips beneath my feet, the harness tightly strapped around my torso, and the small sweaty helmet on my head, told me, that I was ready. I started to put my right foot on the green pear-shaped rock, and I could already feel the harness about to squeeze out my insides. Then with my right foot sturdy, I started to lift my left slowly to the rock next to my right. I was only a foot off the ground , but I began to feel butterflies jumping in my stomach. ‘I can’t do this anymore’, my heart screamed. My brain told me not to look down. From the sidelines, I could hear my dad cheering me on to go higher, “Come Emma, you can do it, you’re not even a fourth of the way done yet!” Gee, thanks dad. My sister had already been up and down the rock wall and I wasn’t about to let her show me up. I sluggishly put my foot on the next stone. I was doing it, I was actually climbing the rock wall. All was going well, until I looked down. That’s when I established my fear of heights.…show more content…
By this time, almost everyone in our group had come to watch me have a nervous breakdown. The corners of my mouth curved down, my nose sniffling, my face turned to a strawberry red tint. Tears were soaking my face, but I knew that if I didn’t finish, I would be even more unhappy. I gathered my courage, took a deep breath and started climbing

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