The Winning Team

Prologue

All Rights Reserved © 2011 - do not steal, copy, or plagiarize.

Story belongs to Danielle Richardson

This prologue is dedicated to sperna11 for being the first person to talk to me after joining Wattpad yesterdday. I hope you all enjoy!

Prologue

I couldn’t breathe.

  No, I wasn’t drowning or even having a claustrophobia attack, but I think at that moment I would have preferred either. I was caught in the strangest of situations, wherein a policeman had his hands wrapped around my throat. Now that I’m actually looking back, I don’t think he was really trying to kill me. No, I think he was mostly trying to threaten me, assert his authority. That’s the problem with adults: they’re always trying to show you who’s boss. 

  Actually, that’s exactly how I got stuck in this predicament. I got fed up with the ones who were always acting fed up with me. I’d had enough, and apparently, I wasn’t the only one. We’d banded together after we’d all confessed our feelings to each other. Somehow, word spread of what we were about to do. I still haven’t figured out who started talking. That’s when our numbers became bigger than I’d ever thought they would have been. That’s when I figured out the one thing that I had been doubting since I’d formulated The Plan:

  We were gonna win.

  There was no doubt about it then. On the one hand, there were only three hundred of us, which was not as big an amount as you would think. But on the other hand, there were only forty of them. I’d decided that I would get what I wanted. I would stop at nothing to make sure that they knew I was the boss, not them. I could almost taste the sweet taste of victory on my tongue as the day that The Plan would begin drew closer. It tasted like smores.

  I remember hearing several police car sirens as the air was being forcefully squeezed from my lungs. It almost felt like my lungs were balloons full of air that had been untied.  Luckily for me, the police sirens were enough of a distraction to make the cop let me go. I dropped to the floor almost instantaneously, clawing at my throat. It felt as if his fingers were still there, caught in their vice-like grip.

  He turned around then, facing the police cars that had just pulled up. That was probably the only chance I would have gotten to run. But I was so angry. How dare he try to threaten me? I was not his property. I wasn’t anyone’s. That’s what I had been trying to clarify all along.

  My vision had a reddish tint to it all of a sudden, but I think that was just how angry I was. Caught in a fit of rage, I did the one thing that I’ll regret for the rest of my life:

  I lunged at him.