When I was ten, our school held a running race in which I was eager to participate. I knew one girl was unbeatable, but I still had my chances to be on the podium. During the race, I was a solid second and a turn away from the finishing line, I was envisioning the silver medal around my neck. But, while passing behind the last line of trees away from the spectators’ eyes, I felt something abnormal in my back, as if someone was pushing me. I fell flat on the ground and I vividly remember the amount of feet jumping over me, annoyed to be slowed down by a crawling obstacle. I wasted precious seconds trying to get back on my legs. As giving up was not an option, I sprinted to the finish line and managed to arrive fourth — the worst place: good effort, no medal.
THEMOONSTHEYCHANGE 