230110

Faith stood behind the white starting line, staring down the track.
The lines painted on the ground shimmered in the heat, dazzling her eyes.

She tightened her crossed arms, hugging herself numbingly.

This felt so familiar, yet new at the same time.
She could imagine actually sprinting down the track, but could no longer remember the buzz that used to go with it.

It's been a while...
She put her backpack down on the ground, stacking her books beside it.
Bending down, she tightened her shoelaces.

She knelt at the starting line and closed her eyes.
In her mind's eye, she saw the other runners.
The sun shined down mercilessly, heating the ground all around her.
The whistle blew shrilly in her imagination.

And she ran.

The wind rushed past her ears, blocking out any other sounds.
Her hair flew out behind her; her legs getting back their long-lost rhythm.
Arms pumping at her sides, she took great gasps of air as she ran towards the end of the track.

Dashing past the line, she came slowly to a stop.
As she panted for air, she waited.

Waited for the adrenaline rush to hit her.
Waited for the excitement to gush through her veins.
Waited for the exhilarating joy that came to her every time she ran.

But...
Nothing.

All she felt was the blistering heat and the usual emptiness that followed her around everywhere she went.

Who am I kidding?
She thought.
It's never going to be the same.

She dragged her feet back to the other end of the track, picked up her backpack and books and made her way home.