I walked in silence, the pain stabbing at my chest as I did. I pulled the hood of my jacket lower over my face so no one would see the tears that I couldn't control. I picked up my pace and suddenly stumbled. I was going to fall but I felt something catch my waist and stop me from falling.
"Don't fall," a masculine voice whispered, as he pulled me up against his chest. I waited to catch my breath before I turned to face the man who'd held me, but as I turned, he let me go. I didn't see anyone where he'd been.
A few days later, I ran through the park, terrified and sad as I'd been. Someone was following me. I heard their footsteps pounding behind me. I heard someone yell behind but I didn't dare turn. Suddenly the footsteps were gone. I was so focused on if someone was following me or not, I tripped.
Just before I hit the ground, something caught my waist and pulled me back up.
"Don't fall," the same voice whispered. It sounded so much like my father but I knew he was gone. I turned without waiting this time to face who was doing this but I was met by air. No one stood there.
This happened four more times, and each time, I was met by no one but myself.
It was torture, hearing his voice but never be able to see him.
I saw a doctor and took some medication, but it never ceased. Each time I fell...
I went to a mental health hospital. No one knew how it was possible.
They tried everything, but every time I tripped or fell, there was the same response.
After two years, I gave up.
I stood at the edge of the building, staring down at the city. Then I jumped. A free fall.
Just before I hit the ground I saw him. My dad... He said, "Baby girl, I told you not to fall..."
