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Hello everyone! This contest is that you are going to write an short story about your horse or rider. At the end, I will pick out which ones are the best. Please add your title of the short story as well. The winner wins: 10,000 ebs. (Note that if I get more than 10,000 before the contest, I will add more winners.) You can also win cool items! I will display your stories in by blog for everyone to see! (I will have it displayed as somebody's elses story!) I always love seeing different stories from everyone! Thank you everyone! The contest ends on November 1!
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Ps: If you want to write a story about something else than your horse or rider, you can do that too!
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Thank you, Beam! Thanks for letting me use the your story! My name is Janet Marks. Im 55 years old and in less than an hour I could be dead. Of course I dont know that yet. But in a sense I am dead already. My life, the one I built brick by careful brick, has always been a ghost. A whisper of borrowed time, counting down to this precise moment.
Fifteen years. Fifteen years since I engineered Jacksons downfall, putting the man I loved behind bars, shattering the neon-soaked world of illegal street racing wed built together. Every sunrise since then has been a tick on a clock, every shadow a potential harbinger. Ive lived with the certainty that his release day would be my reckoning, a day Id spent meticulously preparing for. My safe houses, my burner phones, my escape routes all theoretical until now. Today, Jackson walks free. And I knew, of course, that he would want to find me, and kill me straight away.
What I hadn't anticipated was the amateur hour. I was expecting Jackson himself, a man honed by years of rage, perhaps a precise, surgical strike. Instead, Im hemmed in on the West Coast highway of Hot Pursuit City by a pack of souped-up junkers, their drivers masked by cheap bandanas, their driving skills more desperate than deadly. These losers. They swerve and cut, their engines roaring a pathetic duet of menace. They were just the overture, though. I could feel it; the real performance was yet to come. More trouble was an echo in the roaring wind.
My customized 69 Mustang, a relic of my former life, was now a shining target, its polished chrome glinting under the harsh midday sun. My hands, still surprisingly steady for a woman on the edge, gripped the steering wheel. This was a tight spot, alright. Three cars boxing me in, another two trying to flank. They were trying to force me into the concrete barrier, a clumsy attempt at a slow, agonizing end.
I snatched my phone, thumbing 9-1-1. "I'm on Highway 101, inbound, near the Hot Pursuit City limits. Being pursued. Multiple vehicles. Call it in." I didn't wait for a reply, didn't offer my name. Theyd trace the number, figure it out. Survival was a blunt instrument.
My eyes darted to my right. A battered Civic, its driver clearly overcompensating, was pressing in. A quick, brutal decision. Better a broken bone than a broken neck. I wrenched the wheel, stomped the accelerator, and smashed my bumper into the Civics driver-side door. The sickening crunch of metal was loud, even over the roaring engines. The Civic spun out, screeching, while my Mustang bucked, momentarily free. It wasnt an elegant solution, no. It was crude, desperate. But it was a solution.
With the briefest window of opportunity, I slammed on the brakes, threw the car into park, and unbuckled in one fluid motion. My door burst open. I dove, scrambling out onto the asphalt as my Mustang, now driverless, shuddered to a halt amidst the chaos, a sacrificial lamb. I hit the hot pavement hard, rolling, the roar of pursuing engines thundering above me. I was out of the car, breathing, alive. For now. And that, I decided, was the only thing that mattered tonight. Somehow, I was going to survive.
You can use this for the contest. I may not have a prize since we use the same account, but I can show the story in my blog!
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You're welcome, 123! I am glade to see the story I made for you in the contest!
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Anyone who wants to enter may add their story!
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Contest Ended. First place: 123 I don't know
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