Congratulations, guys! You deserved to win. Now I'm just going to sit here and feel sorry for myself...OK, I'm done. ;) I'm going to base my entry on the picture below.
I pulled myself up onto the ledge that I had been striving so hard to reach; sinking down to my knees, I thanked God for bringing me here safely thus far. It had been a long, hard journey and it was not yet half over! Stretching my weary body, I decided to take a short break so that I might gather the strength to keep going. As I was lying on the smooth cool rock, I closed my eyes and started to remember things I wanted to stay buried. I tried pushing the thoughts away, but they just kept returning to haunt me. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, then opened them again and looked at the deep blue sky. It was so beautiful. It would be something I would remember in years and years when I reminisced about today. Maybe when my long and wearisome trek is over, I will find a place to call home; not just the cliche 'My home is where Jesus is' (which is true), but a real, earthly home too. I smiled wistfully at the thought. Maybe there would be white shutters on the little yellow house and some red roses outside the windows. Maybe there would even be trees to climb up in; if there were, I would climb up to the very top and just sit up there and talk to God.
"I knew I would find you sooner or later," a familiar and unfriendly voice said, jerking me rudely out of my wistful reverie. Lance looks (and acts) just the same as he always has: cocky, rude, unfriendly, did I forget to mention rude? He's also a sort of mercenary for whoever can pay him the most... and he's only 17!
"Hi, Lance," I said calmly. "What brings you out here?"
"You know full well what brings me out here. I'm here to collect you and take you back." he replied smoothly, never stuttering or mumbling.
I straightened my shoulders and breathed a little prayer for guidance. "I'm not going back. You can't force me, Lance."
He swaggered a bit and laughed meanly. "Oh, yeah? You really think that you have a choice? Your dad wants you back."
"My real dad," I murmured, "Told me to leave. He's actually right here with me. Right now."
Lance looked unsure for a minute, then burst out in sadistic laughter. I really hate his laugh.
"You mean your god? He's not real, Serene. I've told you a million times before." He rolls his eyes like he's talking to a 2 year old. I plead for God's help, just one last time. With tears springing unbidden to my eyes, I gaze at Lance. I know what I have to do.