My chest was on fire and my knees were locking up. I couldn't swallow my own saliva.
Others ran past me without batting an eye. They moved smoothly, with no signs of giving up.
I laid on the grass next to the road. The shoes pounding the pavement echoed in my head.
Some tried to offer a hand back up.
I declined. I had already accepted my fate. I let out an angry scream and began to cry.
More runners continued to offer encouragement.
"You've come ninety-six miles!"
"You got this, keep going!"
"Only four more!"
I couldn't go any longer. I wasn't good enough. This was it.
I took off my legs and let the metal bang against the asphalt. I didn't care. I didn't deserve them. I was a quitter. I was a loser. I had been defeated.
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Don't Be So Hard on Yourself (141 words)
Short StoryThe title says it all. (141 words)