“Keep going Laolu, you can make it!”

Yes. I can. I can do this. My muscles strain and then get replaced with fire as I make the final lap. I can see Steven in his annoying yellow shorts just a little distance ahead. No way I’d allow that silly idiot in yellow win me. No way. I pour even more energy into my legs as I run harder…

Then it happens. I must have miscalculated or something. My left foot hits my right ankle and I stumble. As though in slow motion, I see the ground rushing up to greet me. At the last minute, I force my hands in front of me in an instinctual protective gesture. I hit the ground and hit it hard, rolling a bit till I eventually slow to a stop.

My brain faithfully reports the creation and presence of several brand new cuts and bruises. Footsteps that sound like thunder pass me by. I pull myself to my feet. I can’t make it anymore. Checking around I see that I am now the second to the last in the race. No way to win now. I drag myself off the field.
Days pass. The next race comes up. My house master comes to meet me.

“Laolu. There’s another race. I want you to run for us. We can win this one.”

“I’m sorry sir. I won’t run again.”

“You have to. You’re one of our best!”

“I’m sorry sir. I won’t run.”

Read the rest at www.laolusblog.

Y must I go to dat link b4 I can finish d story..