narrative

• You have to do it,” Daisy pestered me with a mischievous grin.
• We sat beneath the protective boughs of the ancient willow tree; its sprawling branches cradled the familiar mustard ball that had brought us so much curiosity over the years.
• The tree’s weathered truck stretched with a commanding elegance; its roots firmly anchored into the earth.
• Despite their apparent disarray, the boughs orchestrated a harmony of organisation.
• The kaleidoscope of seasons made for the leaves to fluctuate in colour, and on this specific day, they all displayed various combinations of yellows and oranges.
• The foliage, scattered across both the branches above and ground below my feet, forming a broad spectrum of colours, creating a fascinating canvas.
• The towering willow tree had been our place of comfort since the first time we met all those years ago.
• It stood proudly at the edge of the wood; it fought the many other trees for a view looking over the expanses of farmers’ fields down below.
• On the evening of summer, the two of us without fail found refuge beneath the branches, watching the sun descend behind the distant hills.
• Amidst the rustling leaves, we spoke for hours on end sharing stories of our interweaving memories.
• You said you would do it today, all you have to do is climb up the tree and get the ball,” Daisy insisted much to my dismay.
• However, the climb wasn’t the challenge; it was the beast-like thirty-foot drop below that terrified me. It sent shivers down my side.
• Despite my apprehension, every day, she persisted that I face the daunting ascent that lay before me. Each day, I said I would do it the next until daisy lost hope all together.
• She acknowledged my phobia but still insisted that I had to confront it in order to overcome it.
• “I can’t do it; my legs are already frozen just thinking about it, Daisy,” I voiced hoping she would leave it at that.
• “No! You’re doing it today; it’s been too long already. Just trust me. You’ll be fine “she reassured me.
• “What if I fall? What if I die and it’s all your fault?” I exclaimed, on the verge of tears.
• “Just trust me and you will be fine,” She tried one final time.“Do you promise? “I asked, still unsure.
• “Promise. So, you will do it,” She screamed with a beaming smile. “Fine. But it’s your fault if anything happens,” I exclaimed, panic already starting to drown me.
• Whilst she double checked the tree was secure, I attempted to catch my breath and calm myself down.
• Daisy had inspected the tree at least four times before I even approached it. I reached for dreaded branch that hung above my head.
• Its surface was coated in a thin layer of slippery, green moss that seeped between the crevices in my hands creating even more apprehension to each careful grip.
• Each branch I touched seemed to be sturdy but had a slight swaying nature amplifying the unsettled feeling within me.
• With every step the foliage appearing to share of piece of my anxiety. Each step I took, my chest tightened, and the pattern of my breathing grew louder ravaging the one peaceful landscape.
• My breath became more and more irregular; each inhale a desperate attempt to suck in any oxygen I could, but it felt like a lost cause.
• The tears welled up and began trickling across my face. Feeling besides myself, I paused for a moment, my arms encircled the rough bark as I embraced the sturdy trunk trying to take some of its confidence.
• The fear I had somehow found a way of stretching time so that the few seconds I spent embracing that tree felt like an eternity.
• The oxygen gradually returned. I could breathe again.  As the air circulated, I wiped the tears away, determined to finish what I started.
• With each breath, I steadied myself, preparing to face the last parts and the dreaded descent that lay ahead.
• Don’t get me wrong I was still utterly petrified but somehow the daunting height transformed into a dreamlike vantage point, offering a new perspective on the place I thought I knew everything about.
• With every step, the victorious ball loomed ever closer. The prospect of overcoming the fear and retrieving the ball charged a sense of pride.
• Don’t look down. Don’t look down. I did it. I DID IT! “You’ve done it!” Daisy voice echoed from below, holding both joy and shock.
• I regained my balance and swiftly flicked the ball before my body shifted. The ball soared through the air, narrowly avoiding Daisy’s head on its way but it reached the intended place nevertheless.
• The descend felt endless, each step closer but never quite enough to reach the ground. My heart raced, beating faster than it ever had before.
• Eventually, the hard, muddy ground greeted me. I sprawled there for a few minutes, relishing all that I had achieved.
• The look of panic that had been stitched onto my face had now been replaced with a triumphant, beaming smile.
• The ancient willow tree, that had caused me so much panic now became a trophy and remembrance to my personal victory
• Daisy and I have often looked back on this day with laughter. What started as a very mundane task to retrieve a ball transformed into a magical blessing in defeating (maybe not completely) my biggest fear.
• The climb evolved into a profound milestone in my personal growth. Now I’ve learnt that the only way to overcome a fear is to confront it, and I was taught this crucial lesson from Daisy.