THE SKYDIVER!

A Game By The Fenris Wolf

And now I am about to die.

It wasn't my fault really. I would put the blame on Dad, but I can't tell him that it's his fault for I'm about to die, but if I weren't about to die I couldn't tell him anyways. You know, he's always point the blame to Gramps. That's a problem though. Gramps is too crazy to think properly, and we all know that he would just blame it on his trick knee or something of that matter...

So, I guess I am stuck with the blame on myself.

You probably don't have any idea what I'm talking about. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is John Doe, an ordinary man with an ordinary hobby. Back when I was only six, my father taught me how to skydive. I loved it. I still do it sometimes if I have enough time, but recentally, I've been out of practice. For a whole year I had gone without skydiving. Then, on my birthday, my family gave me the money so I could skydive one more time. Now let me repeat, I havn't sky dived for a long time so I didn't realize my mistake untill it was too late. Here's what happened:

I was on the airplane, put on my backpack, and jumped. Everything was going fine, but then, as I was falling I noticed a slight lump in my backpack. Now I know what a parachute feels like in a backpack, and this isn't it. It feels more like a ton of bricks. I havn't opend my backpack yet, but I'm not sure I want to. Now I am, in the air, about to die...unless, I find some other means of saving myself...

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