I increased my speed. At this point, I didn't care about anything else. It was either this damn punishment or me.
And I wasn't a loser.
Nor was I a quitter.
One lap left.
Dizziness slowly took over me, making everything around me feel unsteady, but I forced myself to pull it together and kept going.
I was panting hard, probably sounding like a dog that had been running for its life, but I didn't care.
I was going to finish this stupid punishment.
Just a few more meters. That was all.
But then my legs gave out.
I fell hard onto my knees.
"Stupid track," I muttered, looking down at my knees.
They were bleeding now. Perfect. As if my body hadn't already suffered enough tonight.
Still, I pushed myself back up.
My legs were shaking, barely supporting my weight, but I started moving again. Running would have been too generous a word for what I was doing now. I was practically dragging my body toward the finish line. I know I'm being stupid taking such a gamble with my life.
Then I heard him shouting behind me.
"Stop!"
How could I?
I had come this far.
I'm a girl with some pride, after all.
Breathing had become nearly impossible, and every breath felt more difficult than the last, but I kept moving.
One step.
Then another.
And finally, I crossed the finish line.
I had completed the last lap.
And soon afterward, my body finally gave up.
I fell.
"I told you to stop. Why didn't you stop? Huh? Answer me!" He shouted as I pretended to not have heard him.
I was practically on the verge of death, my body refusing to cooperate, and breathing was still a struggle.
But even then, I had enough energy left to say one thing to this idiot.
"Shut up."
I really didn't know how I had managed to get inside my room.
Actually, I probably did.
The General's presence in front of me was a pretty good clue.
My entire body felt as if it were about to fall apart at any moment. I could barely move, and I already knew cramps would soon be joining the list of things making my life miserable tonight.
I was literally furious at him.
I just didn't know how I was managing to control it.
Then I heard him speak.
Or, more accurately, apologize.
"I'm sorry. I forgot about your health."
That caught me off guard.
I hadn't expected an apology from him.
Well, no apologies accepted here. "Leave."
I gathered whatever courage and energy I had left just to say that one word.
I didn't even look at him. I knew that if I did, I might completely lose control of my temper.
"Do change your clothes. You might catch a cold." He said it politely.
Why was he suddenly being so polite?
Was this the same person who had just made me run myself half to death? I don't buy half-apologetic gratitudes or whatever this was.
"You don't have... to worry about me. I'm... fine. Now leave." Deep down: Scram.
I somehow managed to force the words out between breaths. He looked at me for a moment, and then, thankfully, left.
Good. It was better this way.
The moment I was alone, I let my body sink into the bed. I could barely move properly, let alone think about changing out of my wet clothes. Every muscle felt as if it had personally decided to resign.
Changing could wait. Honestly, everything could wait.
Right now, sleep sounded far more important than worrying about clothes.
So, instead of wasting what little energy I had left thinking about how I was supposed to change, I simply closed my eyes.
I'll deal with it later. Maybe.