I felt like I was on top of the world when I nailed that somersault. The thrill of my dream finally coming true was everything I had ever wished for and more. The Olympics—the dazzling lights, the vibrant costumes, the exhilarating jumps and turns—was a dazzling spectacle I had envisioned since the day I first saw that electrifying performance. Yet, deep down, I was acutely aware of the risks involved. The thought of falling, breaking bones, or even fainting loomed over me like a dark cloud. Gymnastics at this level was no easy feat, but the passion burned bright within me. What happened next was beyond my wildest imagination. There was a panel of judges, including Mr. Borris—a name that would haunt me. He had always been portrayed as a kind and jovial figure in the media, but that day, he revealed a side of himself I never expected. In a shocking turn of events, he threw a hammer directly at me. The moment the cold, unforgiving metal struck my forehead, everything went dark. In that abyss, I encountered a vision of my grandma, who had passed away when I was just seven. She had been my biggest supporter, always cheering me on in my quest to excel at my favorite sport. In my mind, she was more of a mother than a grandmother. As I hovered between consciousness and oblivion, I could feel her warmth and encouragement enveloping me, urging me to rise and overcome this surreal and harrowing moment..
i kinda rushed but yeah wrote it myself
