Why?

(Goddamn that infernal question.)

What would it be like to fall? I knew I was to fall eventually, but how would the pain feel?

I walked back and forth, back and forth across the ledge, but the fear of falling was no longer there.

Instead, it had been replaced with the fear of the unknown. I knew it would hurt, but I did not know how much. Would it scar me? Would it kill me? Would the pain be so unbearable I would have to take my own life?

And I walked, and I walked, and I walked, and I was consumed with a fresh new terror.

Despite knowing that I had become skilled enough at walking on the ledge to never fall, I had to know. The desire for knowledge usurped all common sense. There was no need to fall, nothing to be gained from falling; but I had to know.

What would it be like to fall?
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