Never give up

It was exactly midnight, eighth of December, 1999 when I was welcomed into this world. I was inherited with big emerald eyes and jet-black hair to accompany my slender body.

Ever since I was young I've always had a burning passion for running. Whether it was to take out the trash or to grab the milk bottles, I'd always volunteer to help.

Whenever it was dinner time, I would sit down on my bare knees and gaze longingly into the television.

"Oh, and Usain Bolt has made the world record! " screamed the commentator.

" Yes! "I rejoiced, not noticing my plate slide off my lap and fall with a thud on the ground.

" Oliver! What do you think you're doing, young man? " questioned my mother as she glanced at the fallen food on the carpet, hands on her hips.

I looked down at the mess. Boy, am I in trouble.

" Sorry, mother just got a bit distracted. " I replied in an apologizing manner.

" Well, it's okay son. But better not do it next time. " she said with a crooked finger.

"Okay." I stated as I ran into my bedroom. I lay down on my bed and looked at the ceiling. I looked around the room and admired the posters on it. Oh, how I wish it was me, up on that podium, accepting a gold medal around my neck.

I drifted off to sleep on my bed, while thoughts swirled and whirled around my head, like seaweed in a tidepool.

I woke up the next day. I did my normal routine. Eat breakfast. Brush teeth. Shower. Dress up. Drink water. Pack bag. Make lunch. And finally, go to school.

At school, I was cordially greeted by my friends. As we walked, we discussed our future plans. My best friend, Jake, asked me what job I would take after growing up.

I didn't give a second thought as I said -

"An Olympian athlete."

My other friend, Liam, said -

" You, an Olympian?"

I nodded in affirmation.

" Well, mate. That's a long way ahead. Are you sure you want to stick with it all the way?" Jake asked me.

" Well, yeah, you know it's been my dream ever since I was four. " I muttered.

" Hey, it's his life, man, let him do whatever he wants with it. " Liam said defensively, as he put an arm around my shoulder.

" Sorry, if you felt uncomfortable, Oliver. " Jake apologized.

" No, it's okay, bud. " I said.

Jake smiled.

The bell rang loudly.

Ding - dong.

Ding - dong.

Ding - dong.

We all looked at each other with wide eyes and without a second's thought, we all sprinted into the school building.

As we ran in the corridor, we met with the headmaster. His lips puckered and his forehead creased with wrinkles. His eyes danced with anger as he began to tell us off.

Being the children we were, we snickered with glee with our hands cupped our mouths.

After telling us off, the headmaster forced us to watch videos about discipline and punctuality.

We stood there, trying with all our might not to yawn and fall asleep.

After enduring three hours of boredom, we were finally let out to join in our classes.

But I decided to skip school for the day and watch our neighborhood team practice.

As I looked onto the scarlet-red track, I started to sketch.

I loved sketching and had several sketchbooks filled to the brim with drawings and portraits of Olympian athletes.

" Nice drawings. " said someone behind me.

I whipped my head around, to come face to face with our school coach.

" So, you in the school team? " He asked.

" No, I didn't think I was good enough for it. " I replied with an abashed expression.

" Well, I'll be the judge of that." He declared, standing up from the maroon seat.

" Start warm-up. " He told me.

" What?" I said confusedly, not believing my ears.

" Start . . . warm . . . up " He enunciated.

" I don't know how to. " I admitted.

" It's okay, champ. But, once we go on this journey, there's no turning back. So, let me ask you now, are you ready? "

" Yes, sir. " I mumbled.

" I can't hear you. " said the coach, cupping his hand over his ear indicating that he couldn't hear him.

" Yes, sir. " I said confidently.

" Good, let's begin training. " the coach said, arranging some hurdles in order.

I came home with many cuts and bruises that day, I felt exhausted, but I couldn't sleep. My dream to become a world-famous athlete had just begun.

I woke up to the sunshine piercing through my eyelids.

This time, I was actually eager to go to school. Maybe too eager.

" Good morning, munchkins. Boy, aren't you enthusiastic to get to school today. "

I was too keen that I didn't even mind her calling me ' munchkins'. I hummed a cheerful tune and buttered my morning toast.

I finished my breakfast quickly, and gave my mother a quick peck on the cheek -

" Bye, mother. " I said.

I didn't have time to wait for her to say goodbye, so I nodded my head to imply that I heard her. Kind of.

I got on the school bus at the last second.

After 7 hours of school, I finally ran to the track. Coach Brett was already standing there, waiting for me.

I got to him and said -

" Good morning, Coach." I greeted him.

" You're late, Mr. Smith. " he replied, glancing at his gold wristwatch.

I myself looked at my watch, to see -

14:02 pm

I was only two minutes late but I knew better than to argue with Coach Brett, so I apologized and started jogging.

After yesterday, today was a little better. The sun shone with all its might. The flowers swayed their heads. The birds chirped and sang melodious tunes.

After a month's training, I was already beginning to show some improvement. My legs began to tone. My arms grew stronger. My strides were shorter in time. My room began to glisten with the number of medals I won.

Soon enough, I built a reputation. I got the nickname - ' Flash '.

I tore my gaze away from my room's walls and stopped the thoughts in my head, I started to pack my bag, I was going to go to the Olympics.

I woke up with a start. I was still sitting in the airline seat, but something wasn't right. I looked out of the window, only to see that the plane was crashing.

I closed my eyes and waited for the impact. I blacked out.

I awoke to hear a constant beeping sound. I couldn't feel both my legs and my right arm. I didn't open my eyes due to the immense pressure of the light.

After a while, my eyes adjusted to the light. I looked to my right arm and saw that it was heavily bandaged. In a flash, I remembered the plane falling.

The burning flames licked the plane's wings, causing destruction and havoc. The plane didn't put up a fight, it merely fell off the bright skies, dropping down to its defeat.

I tried to lift my head to have a look at my legs. I couldn't. I winced and let sleep take over me.

I woke up to someone talking.

I looked over to my left. A man, well built, was conversing worriedly with a doctor. That's when I realized I was in a hospital.

I didn't want to interrupt their discussion or give them an idea that I was eavesdropping, but I was starving.

" Excuse me. " I merely whispered.

I tried again -

" Excuse me. " I said a little more loudly.

This time, they heard me. The built man came over first. He asked me if I was okay. I responded with -

" Sorry. But I don't know who you are. "

The built man had tears in his eyes.

Seeing this I hastily said -

" I didn't mean to offend you. I just don't know who you are. "

" I'm your coach. I've been your coach for eight years." he said sadly.

" Then, why don't I remember you?" I questioned him.

" On the way to Los Angeles for the Olympics, your plane crashed. Your legs may not move again and your right arm is only temporily paralyzed." he explained slowly, as if I was a child.

"Oh." I uttered, it was the only thing I said before I fell into a deep sleep.

The years passed by, as though minutes. I watched as everybody paid their respects and leave. Nobody stayed with me throughout the night.

Soon enough I could move my right arm with ease. My left leg showed signs of improving but my right leg didn't. I tried to walk with crutches as I could support my body weight onto my left leg.

I gave speeches about my journey and went worldwide inspiring other people.

As I lay down to breath in for the last time, I thought of my parents and my coach. With afinal exhalation, I peacefully drifted off to sleep, never to wake up again.