By Jade Copeland
I stood on the edge, staring down into an abyss of adult life. Of deadlines and work meetings, of rent payments and electricity bills. Messages left on the noticeboard instead of paintings hung up on the fridge.
It shouldn’t have been so terrifying.
Wasn’t it supposed to be easy? I’d always thought it would be. My birthday would arrive and I’d smile because turning twenty-one would include a manual on how to cope with everything growing up entailed.
The clock turned midnight. I didn’t get a manual.
Instead, forced to stare at the abyss, all I received was a whisper: “Jump.”