Day 8/100 of writing challenge :)

A gun goes off in a distant. I start to sprint, every muscle in body tensed, my mind focused, my eyes fixated on the finish line. I look around I see many more in the race. I am chasing some of them, some chasing me. My mind quickly calculates the probable chances of me losing. Blocking any negative thoughts, I run.

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I fall. Not sure how it happened but the pain shoots through my body like lightning. I feel nauseated at my own sight. Hot tears start lurking under my eyelids, but the fear of being laughed at keeps them from escaping.

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I look around, I see no one.

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I look ahead, I see everyone.

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Everyone who started with me, way ahead of me, running in perfect rhythm as if it was all a part of a big orchestra. I hang my head low, wanting to give up, not even bothered to stand up because of the fear of falling again had swallowed my spirits. I look again, just to see how far I had come, as if knowing how close I was to winning would comfort me.

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Suddenly, like a wall collapsing on me my tears go away. They trace my cheeks and linger around my lips, eager to be tasted. Instead of salt and bitterness of losing, I taste victory. As if being pulled by an invisible pair of hands, I try to stand. I get back on my feet, take my position once again. My brains tell me that the pain is getting worse with every minute, but my heart refuses to acknowledge it. My mind tells me there is no way you can outrun the others. There is no way to win, no hope left. I close my eyes, my head throbbing with cynicism.

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With a huge breathe of air; a voice out to me. It says,

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“It’s not the fastest, the strongest or the bravest. The one who wins is always the one who believed…”

?

?

Despite the exasperation flowing in my veins, I slowly smile to myself. With that I run. I run like I have never ran before. Everything starts fading around me. I don’t see how ahead my competition is nor do I see how far I am from winning. I just run. Now I can’t see anything around me, it’s just me, the track and the finish line and only whiteness around us.

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With every stride, with every leap, with every step, I am closer to the finish line.

I run, my eyes focused on the finish line, glued to the sight that bought back on my feet again.

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I see you smiling at me, arms wide open.

With that, I run. ?Not to win, but to be with you.

?

?

Many times we fall. But seldom do we get up in time. Next time you fall hard; try to answer just one simple question.


WHAT DRIVES YOU?

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Be it money, success, or power.

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Be it proving someone wrong or proving that you were correct.

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Think about that one reason; Get back on your feet, dust yourself and RUN.?


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