I can not move. I can not breathe. Fear roots itself in me and grows like a weed, planting itself into the earth’s dry soil. The weapon in my hand grows heavier with each passing second, or is it minutes? Time seams to have stopped in this one instant. It is as though God himself watches the events unfolding before my eyes. I grip my weapon tighter with two hands, feeling the cold metal between my fingers. Gripping it helps to prevent it from sinking to the ground, knowing that if it did I would never be able pick it up again.

The months of training ran through my mind like an old slide show movie. Standing here right now I think, “Should have waited a little longer before rushing into battle” or, “why on earth I am I here?” Its funny how in the heat of the moment you forget who and where you are. I just wanted to show off and now I am reaping the seeds I sowed.

The light glares down at me from the sun, I give a furtive glance up. The on lookers gather around behind me, all waiting to see if I can succeed in my quest. The ground is dry and forms what looks like small dried up river beds. Disturbed dust fills the air making it harder to breath. Droplets of sweat fall down my face only to be wiped away by parched hands. Even my mouth has little moisture left. I crave a drink of water, anything to distract me from this moment.

Twenty feet in front of me my opponent takes his position tossing a round object in the air and catching it religiously. He tosses the thing in the air and then catches it with such ease and grace.  A feeling deep down in my stomach tells me that he knows what he is doing. He looks impatiently over at me, his gaze is strong like he can tear paper with his eyes and I was the paper.

“You can do this.” I tell myself in an attempt to cheer myself on, “Just give it all you got.”

Gathering what little courage I have left I indicate with a nod of my head that I am ready for the assault. Slowly my opponent pitches up his arm and focuses. With tremendous speed and power he launches the item at me.

I can feel my heart pumping with each passing moment, thump thump. Thump, thump. With eyes shut tight, I swing my arm to meet the incoming object. The sound of the wind travels by my ear and then silence.

Slowly I open one eye to see if I hit the target. There was movement to retrieve something that had fallen near the boundaries of the outskirts of the field. “Run”, was all I could think of and so I run, faster then my feet had ever taken me before. I pass the first safe base and feel like I can try to reach the next one. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I reach the second base and urges me to go for the last one.

People all around me begin to shout incoherent words at me but I ignore them lost in the moment and run with all my might. I catch a quick glimpse of someone running towards me holding out their hand as though they are going to grab me, I couldn’t let that happen. With one last burst of speed I leap into the air and land on the soft cushion in front of me, followed by the person behind me.

“SAFE!!” the referee calls to the audience as I land on the cushion and barely missed the player with the ball in his hands. Cheers went through the stadium and my team mates run towards me. I can’t help the smile that creeps up on to my face, nor can I stop myself from laughing loudly. I have done what I had intended to do and made a home run. It was the scariest thing I have done in my entire life and I want to experience it all over again. There is nothing more accelerating then facing your own fears, and who knows, one day I might not be afraid anymore without even realizing it.

By Sophia Hoving

Word count: 726