Through My Wandering Eyes

Chapter: 1The Race

As I stared at the finish line of tape 100 meters away, all I could hear was the sound of my blood pumping through my veins, my breath, slow, steady and controlled. The cheer of the crowd deafening. I glanced to my left the gunman was raising his arm. I snapped my attention back to the dusty, orange and stony track time stood still. I can see it now me at the 1940 Olympic Games only one year away. The call to take your mark sounded, the adrenaline inside me was enough to start a motor car "Breath." I told myself "Control your breathing and fly..." I closed my eyes and waited...

1:15- HALF AN HOUR EARLIER

School had another few minutes left until my big race. I couldn't concentrate on my work. I began to sweat profusely, it poured down my face like rain, and it dripped onto my text book. It wasn't hot in the classroom however, my forehead was burning up. The panting started not long after, my heart raced, it felt like it was about to explode! The nerves had finally got to me. Frau Hauser looked at me in concern "Freeda?" she asked quizzedly "Are you alright?" 30 keen eyes glared at me (other students can be sooooo nosey), I took a deep breath in "Not really, Frau Hauser, please may I go to the bathroom?" I felt sick. My face turned a pale shade of green. Frau Hauser nodded so fast I thought her head might snap off her neck, she gestured to the door with a swing. I bolted out of the classroom. Thankfully I made to the bathroom in time because I was violently sick. "Am I really ready to race?" I thought. It was too late to have my doubts now, the final bell had sounded. It was time..

THE RACE TRACK

The gun shot sounded the start. My feet took off, carrying my body at phenomenal speed. I sprinted with the biggest smile on my face, my feet barely touching the ground. Even though I would look dead ahead of me, I could often see the other racers in my peripheral vision. This time all I saw was the dust from the track surrounding me. "How fast am I going?" I asked myself. I didn't pay much attention to it though, the finish line was inches away. I sped up ever so slightly, the wind whipped my blonde hair back and stung my cheeks like a thousand bees, my breath was raspy but controlled, my legs felt numb and cold. I could feel my clothes cling to my slim figure. I could hear the violent beating of my heart as it pumped the rapids of blood around my body to my brain trying desperately to feed it oxygen. I summoned the last ounce of energy I had and ran as fast as I could go; I crashed head first into the tape tearing it in two. Skidding to a halt I allowed my breath to calm, I watched all my other team mates come plodding through the torn line, the crushing defeat on their faces shone like a blazing fire, they where all out of breath... Suddenly I realised I had Won! I couldn't believe it "Yessss!" I screamed at the top of my lung capacity at that particular moment and laughed like a mad man.

Through my laughter I noticed the judge's table. All four of them (along with some people that looked like timers) hunched over a piece of paper, the look of shock on their faces caused me to laugh some more. One of the timers looked up at me. He had a long grey coat on and large nerdy looking glasses; his black hair was combed back, He smiled at me and gave me a cheeky wink then he turned his attention back to the judges. I laughed louder and punched the air, the grin on my face stretched from ear to ear, as my comrades patted me on the back and congratulated me- well most of them anyway- An overwhelming sense of relief surged through my body from head to toe as my hearts beating eventually calmed, I felt like I could run forever...

The tall one with nerdy glasses walked towards me clutching a clipboard close to his chest, he grinned like a goon as he finally stopped in front of me and said "You have been selected for elite training for the 1940 Olympics, the other judge's, timers and I have studied your running curricular for this past year and we have agreed to offer you a place, we believe that you have great potential and by the time the Olympics come round you could become one of the first females to race in the sprinting and perhaps become... how do I put this... the fastest human in the world."

"The... The... The what?" I stammered

"The fastest human in the world." He repeated. My mind was in complete turmoil! I was only twelve if I did the 1940 Olympics I would be not only the youngest contestant –age sixteen- but have the chance to be the fastest human in the world! But there was one thing I wanted to know before I agreed, "What was my time?" I asked, using a tone I learnt from Mother. The man smiled again and showed me the piece of paper on the clip board.