Crushed. Absolutely crushed. But I was so sure. The world seem to rip out from under me like a magician had swiftly whisked up a tablecloth without a single tremble of the dishes a top. I simply couldn't comprehend how I could of lost. I had done everything my coach had instructed me to do. I was prepared, informed and insync with my partner. I had brought each opponents case to crumbles. I brought them down with grace and reason. I saw the weaknesses in their cases and exposed them to the light. It wasn't an arduous task when they had contradicted themselves over again and again. I had embellished my case, improving it with each debate. Destitution in their eyes could only mean that I had destroyed all hope of their glory. How could something I was so sure of be wrong? Dark embarrassment melted over my expression lightly hidden in denial . How could I stand to face people and tell that I was not as skilled as I had gleefully felt? Such a small task to win a debate round, and it wasn't as if loosing would affect my future, but the thought sent my heart into a downward flutter.
YOU ARE READING
Memiors From Beneath
Historical FictionThese are little bits of my life I chose to write like a story. They are some pieces from the darkest and lightest highlights of my experiences. Some may seem trivial to others or possibly beautiful. If you don't like them, sounds like a you problem.
