There were so many amazing stories, I wish I could have chosen more than one winner!!
windmillKey wrote:Name: Marlowe
Story:
"Careful."
"I know." Marlowe looked away.
"No, really, please... Don't go too fast, okay."
"... Not much I can do about that." Marlowe grinned and stared down the steep hill anew. Her breath hitched as she considered what just one wrong move could do. Her friend urged caution in repeated worried whispers, but Marlowe knew this was something she had to do. Kneeling, she reached down to tighten her laces, quickly glanced at her wheels, double-checked her wrist-guards... Everything was ready. Everything... but her. Squeezing her eyes shut to the world did nothing: she could still see the incline clear as day, and if anything it looked worse, almost endless.
Her eyes fluttered open. Scanning the horizon anew, she noticed a small crowd had gathered at the base of the hill. It was time.
Vast plains of golden wheat spread as far as the eye could see. In this sleepy town she'd grown up in, there wasn't much to do. There was, however, one main attraction amongst the youth, a certain rite of passage each had to complete. Rumour had it, if you didn't complete it, you'd never get to leave. You'd be stuck in the listless plains forever.
Marlowe couldn't have that. She had dreams. With a gulp, she looked at her friend, nodded, gave a salute, and then with a push,
she flew.
Down the hill she sped, full bore. There was no stopping her. Her roller blades pushed her forward until momentum was enough to carry her the rest of the way. The bottom fast approached, along with the ramp stationed there. When at last - in what felt like just a split second, really - she neared it, she made herself small, and soon, too soon, she really was flying, lifting in the air from the jump with remarkable aplomb. Her race downhill would be recorded in the books as one filled with grace, though she hadn't felt it at the time. It had gone perfectly, better than she could ever have hoped.
Looking back on the memory, Marlowe smiled. She'd made it out of that quiet, dreary town, and onto a better place, in the end. But she would never forget it, and she would never forget the day she had first faced - and conquered - her fear.
Congrats, windmillKey, enjoy Marlowe! :)
