Potential

Chapter Four: Never Lose Focus

There's a reason tourists swarm to Starling Park each year. It may be because – as the pamphlet proudly proclaims – it's the only location in the US the rare starling birds inhabit. Or maybe it's because the area has been named the 3rd best tourist attraction in North America. Anyone who's ever been to Starling Park, however, knows the real reason of its popularity. Watching the birds swoon, dip, fly freely into the air fills you with such a rush. The lake stretches off a crystal blue, the sky reflecting it in a perfect monologue of symmetry. Bright, warm rays extend from the sun, giving a shimmering glint over the scene. Yes, the reason people come to Starling Park cannot be summarized as the birds or the lake or the park. It's the entire picture promising a long and fulfilling life to all who glimpse its beauty.

But for some reason, standing outside the entrance of the park filled me with not a sense of happiness, but one of yearning. There, amid all the visitors and tourists and locals just looking for a good time was me; the girl who couldn't come here for the view. The girl who had to chase relics from east to west, always be on the move, and never stop for even just a second to take a breath. The girl who couldn't think of a good enough reason why she always had to live like this.

I realized I had been leaning on the park gate. I stood up straight and chided myself. A good reason? Wasn't living a good reason?

I walked in. The park was filled with couples and families enjoying the late-March weather. I counted five picnics, three barbeques, and 28 starlings popping around idly, malingering.

I heard the voice of Rogue leader Toya in my mind. Focus Aura, she would scold. Never lose focus. If there is one thing you must never lose, it is focus.

My bag started to weigh a little heavier – a sign from the relic map inside that I was getting closer.

I could focus. I stopped and pulled out the map. The circle flashed less than two kilometer into the park. A wave of anticipation hit me as I started walking towards the relic, up a flower-dotted hill.

For some reason, the park was just chock- full of hills. Small, grassy mounds supplemented the trees and boulders the park had no shortage of. They even appeared on the relic map's reading. It showed two paths to the relic: one was shorter with several hills, and the other went around them. But the second path looked to be longer, so I chose the hillier way.

The ground was smattered with flowers that mingled with the leafy undergrowth. Trees shaded a tiny expanse of the park, and it was there that the relic was located. I kept walking, my chest blooming with hope as I approached the trees. I started walking faster, knowing every step I took brought me closer to the relic. The idea that I had finally reached my goal was exhilarating. I speed up, practically running now, bolting towards what could be the biggest triumph of my life. I was almost at the top of the hill, almost to the little nook of trees when I stopped to catch my breath. My brain and heart were in hyperactive mode, but my body was exhausted from two days of no sleep.

A loud shout came from behind me – one closer than I felt comfortable with. I turned to the noise. Four men were running up the hill I was on.

And they didn't look like your friendly, neighborhood potentials.

Four men. I could handle four men. I could run into the trees and get the relic, knock down one, and run.

I turned back to face the trees. There wasn't enough time for the map – I had to find the relic myself. I sprinted towards them, but I couldn't keep my pace even. I felt myself slowing, legs cramping. My body was fighting back. I was running on determination now, and even that was waning. 

I doubled over. The running was too much for my severely sleep-deprived body.

But I had to run. I had to. I had to.