There we were standing in the plane. I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I kept rubbing the worn out leather of my watch, it had stopped working years ago but i just couldn’t take it off. My brother had given it to me a couple years back when my mom had first gotten diagnosed and it gave me comfort to have it with me. I felt the knot in my stomach get tighter but I inched closer to the door. I knew that my mom would hate the new hobby that i’d taken up but I watched her die, a full of life women who didn’t know the meaning of no slowly dwindle into a scared, skinny, almost skeleton of a women. That’s when I knew that I needed to live my life to the fullest. I thought about the first time I had gone cliff diving and the feeling I got when jumped was a feeling i wanted to experience as much as I possibly could. I did everything i could I kayaked over a waterfall and been in the cage of death and tons of other things. My mom had always called me headstrong and that I was rash but I'm young, I should be acting this way. Then i'm snapped out of my thoughts by a man telling me that it was time to jump.