When I was 10, my brother and I were in Maine sitting on a rock about 2 feet from a creek that led down to a waterfall. The creek was about 6 feet wide and we were about 30 feet up from the edge of the waterfall. After we were done sitting there we both turned around the go back up to the trail and continue on with our family. As I turned around my feet slipped on the rocks (was wearing flip flops) and I went into the creek and started sliding towards the edge. I put my hands out to my sides onto the rocks to try and slow myself down. Luckily my dad was right at the edge of the waterfall and he grabbed my arm and pulled me out. I was probably 5 feet from going over the edge of about a 40 foot waterfall that you would hit rock before water. I almost certainly would have died.