Race of Life
Our race is coming up. I watch the other runners round the final turn. The meters count down as the clock counts up. The first runner crosses the line. The scoreboard goes dark for a second then shows the time 53.9. The other runners cross. 54, 55, 56. 57.3 is the slowest, less then 4 seconds slower then the fastest time, but it looks like so much space.
The time is finally ours. I watch the clock reset to zero. The official calls us forward. Every racer has a set of blocks in hand, each one a different color from the one next to them. All of the sets representing their own unique location on the world. All gathered here for this moment in time, these small fractions of a second that will mean so much for years to come.
I look to my right then my left. I see the runners warming up readying themselves for the race to come. then I looked down at my lane. "5." Damn, I never thought I'd be here in the fastest heat in one of the fastest lanes. I take one last look to my left and there stands Jamal, the one favored to win this race. Rumor has it that this guy who stands as tall as a basketball player, with eyes that match the color of blades of grass in the turf field next to us, from the country of Sierra Leone is headed for the record time. How am I supposed to compete with that? I'm still two seconds off of his fastest time. This kind of thinking needs to stop. Time to focus on myself and my race I only have 200 meters to make a difference and shock the world.
"Runners to your mark." Okay here we go. My feet are set, thier positioning feels a lot better then in races before. "Set." Clear my mind. Listen for the sound of the gun. Close my eyes take in a quick breathe of air. "BANG!" Like a bullet out of the barrel of a gun, my feet start moving and my eyes fly open. I'm off . He's taller then me so if I beat him around this turn I could win.
Okay 55 meters down 145 meters to go. It seems to be going well and Jamal still is not in sight, I still can't let up though. Last 100 here goes nothing. 15,16,17. The clock is ticking on, it seems like the seconds are moving slow. “Hmm...17 seconds and I have about 85 meters to go. That's on par with the record!” There is a faint breathing behind me. Crap! That's Jamal. "Faster!" "Faster!" Last 10 meters and we are neck and neck. 22, "22.5!" "Only one time!?" I wonder who won? We all turn to the scoreboard with hope in our eyes. The first name to appear is Terrance, in first with a time of 22.50. In second with a time of 22.59 Jamal. Never has a race been so close. Never have two beat people in the same race beat the record.
This is it the thing I've worked so hard for all my life. Moments later we make our way to the podium. They play the Botswana national anthem as I receive my gold metal. A flare can be seen from the top left side of the stadium, followed by a cry of bloody murder. Terrance's limp body falls straight to the floor.

For those who give it their best but are killed at the end.