Never Give Up

• Meghan Knowles, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2016

A roar, louder than my vocabulary can describe, reverberates around the stadium as a cacophony of noise. My eyes dance wildly around the stands as I take in what is going on. I see flags from different countries flapping about in the hands of enthusiastic fans. I smile when I see Australian’s flag and know I am doing this for my people, my country and my land.
The Rio Olympics. Only a few people are privileged enough to go here and I am one of them. Even though I am thousands of kilometres away from Australia, this feels like home. The mixed aroma of sweat, concrete and chlorinated water reminds me of my local swimming pool and I block out all the commotion to see it’s clear water rippling subtly. My eyes flicker to the Russian lady next to me and I see her malevolent stare directed straight at my way.
“You better count your lucky stars, southerner, because once this race is over you’ll be packing your bags and hopping on a one-way ticket straight back to Australia,” she smirks, her pearly teeth glinting in the light. I keep my cool.
“Oh really? Well I say good luck to all and may the best swimmer win,” I nod firmly and flash a light smile right back at her. My Granny Florence always says a kiss for a blow is the best way to deal with your problems. I know Granny’s right when I see the Russian harden up and go back to preparing for the race. I look at the board and her name is printed neatly above mine in lane 6, Vera Morozov.
“SWIMMERS! TO YOUR MARKS!” A loud voice blares out of the speakers and I breathe calmly, trying to mentally break the knot that has formed in my stomach. I lower my goggles and look down at the number 5 painted on the platform. A few moments of silence are allowed before the race official shouts,
“On your marks!”
I lower into the lunging position.
BANG!
I glide through the air and break the surface of the water. I keep my head down and just go for it. Out of the corner of my eye I see Vera slipping away in front of me and kick with all my might. She doesn’t slow down and I can’t catch her. The finish line is 100 metres away and I forbid myself from slowing down. I kick harder and harder. Stroke faster and faster. I’m catching up to her! 20 metres left and suddenly I snap into a robotic mode where I have no limits and know no such words as, ‘give up’. I only see my local swimming pool and only hear my coach telling me to go! Go! Go! I tear into a last stroke and leap for the end of the pool.
YES!! My mouth drops as I realize what I just did! I stare intently at the replay and see, that I. Came. First.