Warm sweat was pouring down my back. The ends of my fingers tingled with pins and needles. My lungs were aching. I struggled to focus on my surroundings. I could barely hear the voice.
‘Only another few steps’
My mind was scrambled. The pain was searing. I just wanted to stop; to let the others go. There was no point in anyone waiting for me – I was a lost cause, and surely they knew it.
‘You can make it!’
With one last effort I was almost there. Almost…and then the music stopped.
‘Ok, class, see you next week’
I hate January.
These words form my entry into Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.