Hurdles Anger courses through me, I feel it eating away at my soul, tearing me to pieces. I hate him. I hate him, and I hate every one else I've ever met ever. So,like I always do when I'm mad or hurt, I run hurdles. I love how my bare feet look against the track, so mutch paler than the sand around them. I feel better after I start to run. Once I leap over the first hurdle I atomaticly feel one hundred percent heeled. All my anger just melts away. I wince as I land weirdly, the muscle in my toes pinching, but the pain fades as I continue to run. I have soon grown blissful. A smile flits across my face. I feel free. I forget about the boy that brought me so mutch pain. I miss the last hurdle. I don't feel it when my heart gives out and I fall, my amber hair falling around me. They say I died if broken heart. I died because he was right. A girl like me couldn't make the last hurdle.