Jacobs Ladder

Jacob stood at the bottom of the ladder staring up at the many rungs it possessed. His kite rested patiently on the roof waiting for Jacob to retrieve it. Jacobs mind was fighting the eternal struggle, fear verses desire. Fear usually conquered Jacob, but this time Jacob hoped desire would triumph. He stared up at the foreboding ladder, every rung appearing more ominous than the rung before it. The ladder was Jacobs fathers, it had existed long before Jacob had entered the world and it was certainly showing its age. Jacob fingered the splinters protruding from the lower rungs, one caught in his thumb and he winced in pain. The wind rustled through the tree leaves, the whole ladder shook as if chilled by the breeze. Jacob shivered as he pictured the whole ladder falling with him at the top of it. In his mind he could see his crumpled body lying on the pavement next to the remains of the ladder. Jacob knew his fears were irrational, he'd seen his father climb the ladder many times and it never killed him once. Jacob grasped hold of the closest rung to him and refused to let go until his fears subsided. It was well into nighttime when Jacob relaxed him grip on the rung and reached for the next one, his fingers trembling as he grabbed hold of it. He continued in that manner up the ladder. On the fifth rung he slipped and nearly lost his footing, the fear he hated so rose quickly within him. He could feel his fingers trying to give up on him, but one glance at the distance to the ground had him hugging that ladder for dear life. It took Jacob almost another hour to pry himself from the ladder enough to move to the next rung, he kept moving to try and overcome the fear inside him. The roofs edge was in sight, Jacob could almost smell it he was so close. He stretched out for the final rung fearing the image in his vision, but he did not falter, he found the rung firmly beneath his hand. He smiled, a smile so wide that the world could see his internal struggle was over, and desire had triumphed over fear. Fear had finally lost. Jacob grabbed hold of the gutter surrounding the roof and pulled himself onto the roof. It was so dark that Jacob could no longer see the ground or how far he was from it. His fear had all but gone as he reached for the kite, which was now blowing gently in the wind, tapping softly against the roof. His hand clasped onto the tail of the kite and Jacob pulled it free of the tiles, as he did this he shifted his weight to his other foot, which was supported only by the gutter. The gutter creaked under his weight and gave way falling into the infinite darkness. Jacob could feel himself slipping; he released the kite and tried to grasp hold of the roof, anything that would support him. Jacob reached for the ladder; it fell toward him and then plummeted to the ground. Jacob saw what was left of the gutter pass quickly before his eyes; he was falling, falling to his death. Fear had left him, he had no use for it now, he stared at the sky, his mind completely empty. He never felt the ground. He probably died on impact. The kite, Jacobs kite, flew freely about the roof in the wind. When the sun rose Jacobs crippled, lifeless body could easily be seen lying next to the remains of ladder stretched out on the pavement.