Beyond Control

17

As you should've guessed by now, athletics wasn't my strongest subject throughout high school, nor was I ever interested in changing that. I was too focused on school to prioritize any sports. Sure, engaging in those extracurricular activities could've made me physically fit and potentially gain more friends, but I never had an interest in them. Studying was more important to me, and I never had a problem with it. I was beyond content with sitting in an isolated corner away from social gatherings with my head buried in a book or scribbling notes for an upcoming test while playing music in my ear. It gave me a peculiar sense of comfort.

That bit me in the ass as I almost ate the turf. My back foot lost traction, causing me to stumble forward and forcing me to use my hands to prevent from falling over. I instinctively pushed myself back up and looked ahead of me. 

Shit! The group I was racing in was already close to ten yards ahead of me. If there was a chance of catching up, I had to stop worrying and start sprinting. Besides moving down into the second group, what would happen if I lost? What would Murray or Hayward put me and the other losers through? Would the winners be rewarded somehow? The thoughts continuously raced through my mind as the other competitors gained distance.

Just as I regained my footing, I glanced behind me to see Emily standing staggered in her line with clenched fists and widened eyes, terrified after witnessing my embarrassing moment. What was she thinking? 

Snap out of it! Get your head on straight! I didn't want to discover the consequences if I lost. 

Using this as motivation, I sprinted as hard as possible, pushing my body to the limit. With each step I rapidly drove the balls of my feet into the turf, using it to propel my body to the fullest extent of its speed. I could feel myself flying through the air, shockingly catching up to the people before me.

As I passed the bottom two people in my group, I quickly realized I was running faster than anticipated. As previously mentioned, I was far from athletic. Where was this speed coming from? Was it the motivation? A second wind, perhaps?

It didn't matter at the moment. I didn't care about winning. I didn't want to finish last. I wasn't skilled or athletic enough to finish in first place, but I still needed to try my best for myself and Emily. She was watching me, after all. Thinking of that gave me even more motivation to try.

By over halfway across the field, I estimated that I was near the middle of the group. Normally, I would've been content with that placement, but with how quickly I gained on the rest of the group, why not shoot for first? This was an attitude that I wasn't used to having, especially when it came to physical activities. 

Who, or what created this new personality? Was it the fear of Hayward's punishment for finishing last? Was it knowing that Emily wanted me to succeed? Pictures of Emily cheering me on from the other side of the field flashed through my mind. She couldn't audibly cheer for me due to Hayward looming over her, but it was as if Emily was telepathically screaming her lungs out to finish as strongly as possible. 

Twenty yards remained in the race. Come on, Eli! 

My foot drove unnaturally into the turf, and I felt time slow. Power surged through my body, giving me newfound strength. The ground under my foot hardened before springing me forward at a speed faster than any human should be able to do. I used this momentum to push through the remainder of the race. 

Out of breath, I looked around to see the last few finish through the line. How did I place? Did I finish first? I happened to notice a few stares in my direction. What happened? 

General Murray's voice shook me out of my thoughts. "First place, Elijah Bell. Last place, Lindsey Savoy." 

I finished first!? How was that possible? Looking around, it was clear that the other people in my group were wondering the same thing.