(Any comments/reviews welcome- Thanks, Brie♥)
“The Road to Recovery,” read the sign. I wondered about the purpose, and walked past it.
Before I knew what was happening I was teetering at the edge of a ravine. The height was enough to make me uncomfortable, unstable, and I tried to step back only to be pushed forward again by invisible hands. Taking a deep breath, I couldn’t help but look down.
My body froze, and my breathing deepened. Mud covered the sides and it seemed to pour continuously into the river below, a never ending flow of thick filth. The mud mixed water crashed against the walls of the ravine, threatening to come steal me away; bury me in the weight of all its pressure.
A shout stole my attention and I saw her. Well, I saw the steps further down from where I stood. Slate gray stairs started at the halfway point of the ravine side and made their way up to the edge I stood on now. They were straight up like a ladder, missing a few steps every couple of spaces. It looked as though they were made of the slipperiest rock, and very feeble.
She, the woman on the stairs, held on for dear life. Covered in mud that was slowly dripping off, I realized she had fallen down the ravine, and into the river. Her face showed exhaustion, but her eyes held determination. The grip on the stairs was unbreakable. She wasn’t going back down.
Her head was turned in my direction, and I watched as she began to shake it when she saw me at the edge. I could see her struggling with the wide gap in the stairs and I took it she had been there for awhile. Now frustrated with it, she jumped upwards taking a risking leap, grasping the stairs as she fell back. Two steps closer to recovery.
Even though she was closer to the edge, closer to the flatland that consisted of only tiny hills, I could see her debating on whether or not to continue. Her face drooped and her grip on the stairs lessened. It looked as though she was about to fall back again, when she looked over. Whatever she saw changed her mind, and her grip tightened, strength and determination overpowering the fatigue.
I turned, too fast, around to see what she saw and slipped. As I fell down, I twisted and grabbed at the ground. It was wet, and my hold was lost. My hands finally gripped the edge of the ravine, stopping myself from falling down in the river.
My feet struggled against the side trying to find footing, but slipping as more mud was pushed into the depths below. As much as I tried, my strength was gone and I couldn’t pull myself back up. My fingers slowly began to lose grip through sweat and the water on the ground.
As I gradually slipped more and more, I turned my head to the side where the woman had pointed. Nothing was there. Even as my eyes scaled the sides and edges of the ravine, I failed to see anything new. It was only as my eyes flicked downward that I saw what she did.
He was in the river, gasping for air, hands flailing above him calling out for help. Mud covered his face, and I couldn’t tell who he was. For a second his head bobbed above the water, and then it disappeared. Water crashed over and mud fell down, adding more and more pressure. He still hadn’t come up.
I watched anxiously for a head to appear, arms to shoot up and out, but I saw no sign.
His plea of help reached my ears, and I looked down the river relieved. Again, his head had surfaced, but it was being pushed back under quickly again. And as his head poked up once more, our eyes connected. They burned into my own asking for savior. Sadly, I shook my head knowing I could do nothing without bringing myself down with him.
I glanced back and forth, from the waters on my left to the steps on my right thinking about the future. Would I end up like the guy who let his problems overtake him, let them pile so high he became buried in them? Or like the woman who overcame her problems and pushed herself on even when she just wanted to give up?
Either way, the road to recovery was going to be muddy.
You have developed a sophisticated metaphor to get your point across to the reader. I like how you saw two separate futures for yourself through different people, rather than seeing images of yourself. 
And the way you have the second sentence worded, it sounds like you are the one covered in mud. I would connect that phrase to the first sentence, give it a little more meat.