I was in the summer Olympics. There was a tower, 30 stories high.
The competition was to jump off it and land in the pool below. You got points for doing some kind of maneuver, but really it was just staying alive.
I jumped the first day of a two-day competition, and I did great. I was in the top two.
When I came out of the water, I noticed my family and my dad on the side of the bank. Laura and the kids got up and left me. There was a demonic attack, and I knew it was happening. But, they left anyway. My dad stayed with me.
The next day, I remember looking at the tower, but I was afraid to jump.
When competition time came, the dude that I was up against came up to the top. But now, it was the top of a sky scraper. I looked over the side, and I could see the pool way below. I didnt want to jump.
The dude came right up and stepped on the ledge and jumped. He had a buddy who jumped with him. I watched them go down. My competitor hit some kind of air pocket, and I could see him swishing around like he was in the jet stream. He landed in the pool but just barely.
I couldnt jump. I stepped out on the ledge, but I couldnt do it. All the people were gone. I was just me and my dad up there.
All I could do was think of dying.
The first day, there was no fear.
The second day, there was nothing but fear.