The Night Vigilante

XVII. Grace

Grace

            “Climb it,” Ulrich tells me blankly, his voice thickened with his German accent.

            I swallow hard, my arm already aching with the thought of it.

            Behind me, a line of fresh-faced vigilantes watch me, stone-faced with all of their arms crossed.

            They can’t know you’re not a vigilante, I think to myself, stepping forward, the rope hanging above terrifying.

            Ulrich’s eyes follow my step, a sneer on his lips.

            There was something scary about his manner, as if he knew everything about me-the fact that I wasn’t a vigilante, my confusing relationship with Cole-Everything.

            “We haven’t got all day princess,” he says condescendingly, his hand squeezing my arm hard enough to make me flinch.

            I look around one last time, Cole nowhere in sight.

            Stop it, I snap at myself. I am a big girl. Cole can’t save me from everything.

            Standing under the long rope, I widen my stance and work on clenching and unclenching my fists before planting them firmly onto the rope.

            Trying to put most of the strength on my right arm, I pull upwards lifting my body off the ground at the same time.

            The first two movements up the rope aren’t so bad, but as I look up, the rope towering up so high, it finally hits me just how bad this situation sucks.

            Either I reach the top or fall and risk humiliation.

            I cling to the rope for a good few seconds, my body screaming for me to just let go and slide down the couple of feet I’ve pulled myself up.

            I suck in a heavy breath, grabbing the next length of the rope with my right arm and pulling so hard I can feel my muscle strain.

            I quickly latch on with my left, trying to ignore the searing pain as I wrap my legs around the rope, trying to ease the burden on my arms.

            I am higher up now-so much that when I look down, everything looks small enough for me to start panicking about the possibility of falling.

            “You going to stop there, princess?” Ulrich calls up, his tone making me reach forward.

            Screw you, I continuously think to myself as I continue the excruciating process. My right arm feel so heavy I can barely hold on let along grab and pull myself up.

            By now, I feel the squirming feeling in my stomach that my left arm will never heal-not with all the stress I’ve put on it.

            Sweat drips down my face as I somehow try to wrap my legs around the rope and dig my shoes into the rope.

            I look up, the remaining distance daunting.

            Closing my eyes, tears hiding under my eyelids, I know that everyone’s staring at me, probably thinking the same thought: what is she even doing here?

            I think back to my dad, telling me about courage and bravery in that one summer day, Cole’s words mixing in with the memory.