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The Monument Approaching The Monument, I started dreading going up it just by looking at its height.

it held, my only words could be that of saying: “Oh fuck!�

Starting to walk up the spiral staircase, it was visible to see how small the steps were, getting smaller as you went further up; creating a sense of being trapped as people are wallking past coming down the other direction.

Outside, I had to hold myself onto the stone pillar. Through the fencing I saw how small everyone below us was. They were all small enough to become miniature figures, even the buses going by. It was like viewing a miniature village.

Through these mushroom-shaped sections, the hand rails kept stopping me, stopping my way of holding onto something that is keeping me safe, Tugging at my coat at every expense to make me get a glimpse of looking down.

I tried to go near the edge of the balcony, but ended up backing off from it. I had to sit down. I had to hold onto the fencing. I felt much safer. I wanted to stay on that spot and not walk anywhere else.

My heart was racing.

But I had to go down. I looked white. People were staring at me because I turned so pale. My lips were shaking. My legs and hands were shaking. I was going to pass out at any moment. It felt longer, but I was only up there for five minutes.

Looking above, seeing how long I have left to go, the feeling of falling kicked in, causing me to nearly fall backwards. Looking down was a more so dizzy feeling. Nearly there. Almost to the top, I could see light approaching. One glimpse of that light and what

I was relieved to hear the voices coming closer as I went down and finally reached the bottom of The Monument.

Development Book  

A collection of research, development and final of the Final Major Project, based on Acrophobia (fear of heights).

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