by Victoria S.
(Camas, WA)

My name was Destiny. I was eleven years old and was already an elite gymnast. That sad night was the worst of my life. I put the grips on my hand, during the state championship. 'If I get at least a 7 on bars I'll still get first in state' I whispered to myself, chalking up my hands.

The three judges wearing blue ribbons waited, there small, square glasses sat low on their noses. Watching me. I gave out a breath and started my bar routine. My grips failed.

Purposely. They snapped as soon as i jumped from the low bar to the high bar. I fell to the ground. My bars score was a 3 of 10. I got 9th in state, because my grips had failed, but they had been in perfect condition a second ago. That's when I saw Milly, her pinched face smiling as the judges said my score, whispering on the waiting bench to the girl next to her, who giggled.

I inspected my grips, which were supposed to help me grip the bars for when I'm doing bars in gymnastics. I was at such a high level for my age, and it all just went down the drain. I cried in the bathroom for hours, alone, in the darkness.

The next practice everyone buzzed about how well they did while I stared at snooty Milly with a glaring look. I wanted her dead. She sabotaged my grips. She got First in state, and she ran her long bony fingers through her sandy hair. I slit my eyes, still glaring. Then decided to take no more. I stormed out of the gym and started the short walk home without telling my coach. Nobody would notice my absence. I was a loser.

That night I was so depressed, I hung myself in my closet. My mother found me the following day, coming in early with pancakes to tell me that one of the girls who got seventh cheated in State, so that put me at eighth, which was much better than ninth. Crossing an invisible line. Alas, she found me dead.

I haunted Milly. Stalking her. Making her jump in her sleep, but when she turned to see who had tapped her shoulder in the night, I would be gone.

I was a ghost. Getting my revenge. I waited a few long years. Driving Milly insane. Finally... the Olympics. Milly was going to win. She was by far the best, but I wouldn't let her.

When she did her vault I jumped on the springboard when she did, sending her flying through the air. Her score was 0. When she did Floor I tripped her as she attempted a back walk over as part of her routine. Almost broke her pig nose. 0 points. When she did Beam I pushed her, again and again, off until she gave up and scratched. Yet again, her score was 0.

On Bars, when she attempted a skin-the-cat, I pushed her down onto the mat... hard. She got a 0. The crowd stared in silence. She panted as she stood up, almost falling to the side. She wept in embarrassment as she fled the Olympics.

She stepped outside to find me. She stood tall, stopping her crying, but she was scared.

"I thought you were dead." She smirked.
"I am." I whispered.

Her brow formed sweat. She wiped it away.

"You ruined my life. Now you will pay." And I dragged her away.

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