There were minutes for lightning to strike. She was so close to the conducing wire and the tree to which it has been wrapped to turn it into a lethal powerhouse. She needs to get away from the tree and the deadly wire to stay alive. She has to run away but wait, she wants to end it all and this is her chance. She wraps wire around her arrow and shot it to destruct the arena for torturous games. She shoots so that nobody suffers like she has suffered, so that arena that has been responsible for loss of lives over years can have its showdown.
For the most years of my life, I have borne the brunt of being complemented as ‘brave’. Yes, you read it right, I called being brave as a burdensome, annoying feeling that has tagged along me everywhere I went. I first met it when I was eight and was put into roller skating. With due respect to my family’s concern for my fitness, I needed to be brave to put up with early morning risings, toughened coaches and requirement to win at every tournament. So, I ran at the whistle. I ran to have a good start at championships. I ran to leave behind my competitors. I ran to justify the cheering crowd. I ran – for the gold.