Galloping Gertie Monologue

I lay awake as sunlight starts to engulf my room and the birds start to chirp as they pass my window. By the time I take to eat breakfast, change my clothes and watch some television it is late morning. I’m about to go and do some homework when the doorbell sounds which is instantly followed by the sound of my canine, Charlie, barking at whoever might be on the other side of the door.
“Get back!” I shout at Charlie as I go to open the door. As soon as I open the door even slightly ajar I know who it is, my best friend Jesse.
“What are you doing here?” I enquire slightly quizzically.
“Do you want to go down and walk across Galloping Gertie?” he asks.
Galloping Gertie, as many people in the area call it, is a bridge unlike many others. For
We stroll along the riverside pathway as the wind howls through sending us into brief moments of freezing as if we were standing in the freezer isle in a grocery store, shortly followed by the warm sunshine of the summer day. We’re only about 10 minutes away when we turn the corner to see it in the distance swaying with the wind; it looks like it would be so much fun to go
I can sense that he is catching me up now as the sweat drips off my face.

In an instant I was hit by the rushing waves of the wind as it passed by the bridge and hit me as I rapidly descend towards the ground. I hit the ground with a solid thump and look around to see that Jesse has been knocked to the ground too. But unlike me, he seems to have taken the brunt of the wind because only a few metres behind me he is sprawled in an unmoving heap. I pick myself up and go and see if he is alright but when I reach him I find that he is covered with blue, black and burgundy welts.

It was in this instant that I decided that I needed to get him off this bridge. I stare down at him like a predator watching its prey from afar, as I decide how to move him. I decide that the safest option is to drag him from his arms and let his legs drag, rather than let his dragging his head. By this time I start to realise that the bridge is surprisingly empty with not even a car in sight. Thinking that this is incredibly strange I pick Jesse up and start to pull. I had barely been moving for ten minutes but I had got half way back to the shore, I guess we hadn’t got as far as I thought. By now I am panting at the work this is. And that’s when I heard it, a ripping noise like someone had ripped their pants but to my dismay it wasn’t that. It was the concrete on the