There was a spiral staircase in our school building. We were not allowed to go there but I was always curious about it. Somehow I thought of Rapunzel or someone trapped up inside what looked like a room.
With a group of five friends I decided to go. When we climbed up we went half way and then came back. Due to its spiral shape and the gaps between each step we felt dizzy and not to mention that the height scared us away.
We again tried the second time. It was decided that three would stand down just in case we fell or something happened. I was one of the two to go up. I reached only to find a lock at the entrance. I didn’t look down as I went up; as I knew, if I would then I could not go ahead. It was only when I reached the top of the staircase that I saw down for a brief moment. I thought I would feel good but I realized my fear of heights for the very first time. An uneasiness filled my tummy. There was a feeling that I was sitting on a merry go round and I started running down the stairs.
We were happy because we had done something that no one had done (or so we thought). We didn’t find anything but we did it. At that moment I certainly felt that having done this I could do anything. If I was there I could be anywhere where my heart desired me to be.