The End Of The Line

(Breathe in. Breathe out.)
(Steady yourself. Relax.)

She looked left. What was it now, twenty feet? Twenty five?
No, dont look, she admonished herself. Focus on what's in front of you.

Heart racing, her hand trembled as she thought of what was to her right. She didn't dare look, as seeing would only confirm what she couldn't allow herself to think. She had to focus.
The pain in her knees were starting to make their objections felt.
Stupid girl, she thought to herself, why did I ever agree to this madness? But she knew. Pride. Pride and vanity. She knew she was better than him, and although she couldn't say it aloud, she could prove it by one simple test.
Simple. The thought made her chuckle to herself.No! She had to focus on the task!

(Breathe in. Breathe out.)
(Collect yourself. Relax.)

Glancing at her watch allayed her fears. She had only been here seven minutes. Twenty feet in seven minutes was a good effort, she thought. Better than him.

Him. The cause of it all. The man she had looked up to. Trusted. She paused.
Trusted. That was it!

The word had unlocked a stream of thoughts, feelings, and most importantly, ideas. Eyes bright, hand moving rapidly she toiled away, steel-like in her intensity as the minutes passed. Sweat dripped form her forehead, unnoticed by her in the feverish attempt to complete the task she had started. Her heart beat a ferocious rhythm as she could feel how close to the end she was.

(Breathe in. Breathe out.)
(Focus yourself. Relax.)

She knew she was barely inches away. What had previously been too terrifying to contemplate, was now within her grasp. She could smell it, taste it, feel it. Freedom from this torment. Almost done.
She took a deep breath, sat up and looked left.

One hundred feet.

With one final stab of the pen she had won. The heavy imprint of the full stop was like the raising of a flag, the cry of victory, the jubilation of achievement. She had conquered, defeated not just him but the mental stagnation she had so wished to avoid. She had written her tale, it was all there in black ink.

Most importantly to her, she had come to the end of the feint-ruled line.