On your marks. Get set. Go!

I rested my sweaty extremities on the starting line. The gun sounded and I ran as fast as I knew how. "100 meters down, 300 to go.", I thought hopefully. As we rounded the first bend I decided to make my move to the front. Reluctant to give up his first place spot, a tall blonde haired boy sped up accordingly. 4 people kept close behind me, but I decided to make this a race. I sped up even more so and when we reached the 200 meter mark the blonde haired boy and I had seperated greatly from the pack.
The last half of the race is always the toughest. I kept just a footstep behind my adversary, but he showed no sign of fatigue. When we reached the last 100 meters I moved outward a lane, and my enemy noticed. He turned his head for an instance and then I made my move. Pumping my legs as fast as I could I made a whole-hearted attempt to take the lead. As I pulled into first the blonde hair boy tried to catch me, but he couldn't. When I crosses the finish line I felt surreal, as if I had just placed first in the Olympics. The blonde haired boy crossed the finish line and I offered my hand in good sportsmanship.
As he glanced at my hand he spit on it. I went to pull out my Katana, but I refrained, the race mattered more than me. Eventhough seeing a pretty boy sliced up and strewn across the finish line, I had to draw a line. So I did. I cut em' up and used his blood to draw the line! Whoops.

Moral of the story: Blonde haired boys, I mean a German Arians, are sore losers. So kill them when you have the chance.

Currently 10.00/10
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Rating: 10.0 out of 1 vote cast