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Narrative Essay On The Kite Runner

1272 Words6 Pages

I stand shoulder to shoulder with 12 others on the line. Our hearts pounding in our chests, we each whisper own respective prayers, calling on whatever god will listen. But not even god can help us now: our fates have been sealed. Nothing but immeasurable pain awaits us. The man in front of us loads his gun. My legs tremble in anticipation of what’s to come. Regret begins tp flood my mind. The man raises his gun: silence. For a brief moment in time, the world stands still. All of the onlookers hold their breath, waiting for the man to shoot. Bang The sound of the shot eccos across the stadium as we begin to run. 8 Laps, I tell myself, only 8 laps. 100 meters in and I have positioned myself in fourth place. Perfect. I think back …show more content…

A surge of adrenaline washes over me as I draw closer to the finish line. I'm on the hunt. Like a cheetah stalking his prey, I follow the first place runner, knowing that when I make my move, the race will be over swiftly. There is no escaping my burning desire to win. Now was the time to reap the rewards of my hard work. Waking up every morning at 4:30 to fit extra runs into my schedule has brought nothing but pain until now. Running in the cold, dark air has hardened my resolve. I have grown accustomed to the pain that is running. The pain has molded me into a cold blooded killer. Shy and awkward in day to day life, I am a ruthless animal as soon as I step on the track, running confidently even though I am so far behind the first place runner. I won't let myself lose the race. Winter has ended and spring has come. Now it is time to harvest the fruits of my …show more content…

The glory that I have been chasing is finally in reach. A smile breaks across my lips. To have worked so hard without payoff for so long, and finally be in sight of my goal is a chilling feeling. Lactic acid pools in my muscles like an ocean of molten lava, my legs scream out in anguish. I am brought back to earth by the ringing of the cowbell, the universal sign that the last lap has begun. Over the roar of the crowd I hear my coach say two words. “Go win” The race is on. I kick into an all out sprint, my desire for victory growing with each passing step. The lactic acid surges through my body, as every fiber of my being begs for me to stop. But I won't stop. I can't allow all of my hard work to be for nothing. 200 meters to go and I am right on the shoulder of my opponent. Neck and neck we round the back stretch, lapping the other runners as we make a mad dash for the finish line. 100 meters left, one last straight section until our race is over. The true battle of wills has begun. Each of us can feel unbearable pain surging through our bodies, but neither of us is willing to give up. The outcome of the meet will be decided here, teammates, parents, and coaches all watch in awe as we match each other stride for stride with fifty meters to

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