Victory was just within reach. She could almost taste it as she stretched her body, jogging in place waiting for the race to begin. The crowd went crazy when her name was called. She felt so proud of herself.
She looked around and saw the nameless faces all screaming and cheering. She wished her papa was there somewhere cheering her on.
She felt tears threatening to come as she remembered the sudden call two weeks ago. Her papa was gone and buried now. He had sacrified so much to get her here. He had believed in her when no one else had. Just when the ultimate glory was at hand, his life had been snuffed out.
Life was just not fair.
She would make him proud and win the title...this she swore.
"On your mark..." That shook her out of her reverie.
At the sound of the gun, she was off...running like her life depended on it...and it did!
The pain came out of nowhere.
"Not now," She screamed, struggling to keep up the pace.
The stich at her side brought her down just about three feets from the finish line.
Her dreams crumbled before her eyes as someone else crossed it claiming her title.
Despite the pain, all she could think was she had failed her papa.
microfiction contestWritten for @jayna's
Oh my, how sad! This story really rings true. We can become so invested in honoring a person’s wishes, or their memory, that we set ourselves up for failure. I guess we will never know whether those things truly matter to those who have passed on. Well done, @cheekah!
Thank you! It feels good to be back! This little piece is actually inspired by true events.