This is part of my 100 days of writing challenge. I am challenging myself to write 1 creative piece each day, no matter how tired I am or how crap it is.
Kathy pumped her legs as quickly as she could. All she could hear was her blood thumping against her temples and the short breaths she was taking. There was a blurred crowd to her left as she turned the corner for the final one hundred metres. She only needed to last for another 13 seconds maximum!
One step, two step, three step. She could only see the finish line, until she felt the searing pain of her chin hitting the asphalt. Kathy looked up and felt the gust of footsteps run past her as she lay motionless on the floor. ‘Not again,’ she thought, as the tears started to well up in her eyes.
Within a few minutes, Kathy’s lifeless body was pulled up onto a stretcher. All sounds were muffled by her own thoughts. She could hear her mother screaming at her coach, complaining about the failure of the implant. She could hear her trainer asking her why she pushed herself and whether she had sufficiently rehydrated herself. She couldn’t hear anything but the big fat searing pain of losing the race which would have guaranteed her a spot in the national relay team.
All Kathy ever wanted was to represent her country in track and field. She wanted to be the first of her kind, the first microchipped human to race. Kathy was born without motor neurones. With the help of Dr. Ngo, she was able to move her limbs by implanting a microchip.
The microchip let her do things normal humans could do. She could finally eat, dance and most importantly, run.
Now, as the chip had short circuited, she felt she was back at stage 1, lying on the hospital bed once again.
Kathy closed her eyes and replayed the moment again and again in her head. She was coming first. She was winning. She replayed the feeling in her head over until she started to drift off.
‘Mark that as project failure 10,’ Dr Ngo solemnly said to his assistant as she draped a sheet over Kathy.