Leap of Death by Rachel DeYoung ~ep

The man straps himself in back of me like a baby harnice. I slide on the goggles over my head as the wind is literally blowing us around inside the plane. I officially hate my husband now. His sick humor lead to a surprise skydiving appointment for my 30th birthday. At this point I am ready to knife the instructor and the man holding the camera in front of me and tell the pilot to land the plane. If only I had a knife. As I am imagining my plot of escape the man strapped behind me starts stepping forward and I begin to stumble. My legs turn into jell-o. I can’t move my body, my arms feel like the bones are literally shrinking and I am no longer able to hold up my own arms. He continues to step forward as my feet refuse to move, I wish I had put crazy glue on the bottom of them. The wind is so harsh I can barely talk to tell him to stop, that I can’t do this, and go on about getting a lawyer and sueing him for every penny he has if he jumps off of this plane. The guy in front of me insists on filming this entire ordeal and gets two inches away from my face when we approach the side door of the plane. My head is almost entirely out of the door. All I see is blue, the blue sky and the cause of my death, the ground. I turn my head to look at his face and see his huge grin of enjoyment. I would pay to smack it right off of his face. My eyes begin to water up and my heart is no longer racing, it’s going too fast to even be beating anymore. That’s it, I can fake a heart attack, just pass out, have my body become completely limp and end this whole–
“You ready?” he asks suddenly.
“NO! WAIT!” I said drastically. I couldn’t catch my breath. I couldn’t even remember what I thought about for my excuse to get out of this.  I was going to die, this is it. I’ll never go to Bermuda or take that 14 day cruise to Alaska and see the polar bears. I’ll never be able to get the chance to fit into my favorite bathing suit. My kids! I’ll never see them off to high school, college, marriage, grandchildren. I hate my husband, I hate him! 
“Here we go!” He says and takes the leap to my death.