you did really well realeo, nice job.
for the record, the first time you asked the stair question, I typed out this:
the setting is the year 2015.
the place is Dallas, Texas.
the building is... some large hotel that i do not remember the name of.
I am there for the NSDA (national speech and debate) national tournament.
I am very proud to get there-- it was not easy. I am in 11th grade, and it was my first year of my two years of debate. I had never debated in varsity before, and to qualify, I had to go 5-1 against some really strong varsity LD debaters in my district. The top two debaters from my district qualified for nationals, and I was second (the person who got first went 6-0 and eventually took 6th place in the nation).
This is the mentality that I have at nationals. I am one of the least experienced and qualified debaters here, but I'm prepared, and I'll just give it my all and try to learn from my experience and have fun. hundreds and hundreds of people from around the nation are there. There are 6 preliminary debates, with 2 judges each. To advance to the next rounds, you need to get at least 8 judges to vote from you out of 12.
It's my third round, and I wait for the information to be released online. It's the 29th floor, no problem. It's chaos on the first floor. Everyone is trying to get places, and it's packed. There is a semblance of a line for the elevator, so I decide I'll wait. I still have an hour, it's no problem. After a long time waiting in the lines, word gets around that some of the elevators are broken, which is slowing the process even more. It's not easy for just a few elevators to service a large number of people with so many floors.
Okay. I have 30 minutes left.
29 floors.
I got this.
I head towards the stairs and start one of the most grueling experiences of my life. I start running up, but that very quickly tires me out and I settle for a steady, brisk walking pace upwards. The stairs are crowded with people for the first 5 floors. The people begin to reach their destinations and the stairs thin out. By floor 15, I am alone.
The time blurs. seconds become minutes. minutes become years. it feels like I am spending an entire lifetime in this stairwell. Universes are created and destroyed many times over as my vision blurs and fades into the eternal, dizzying climb.
My legs threaten to fail me. I'm carrying a backpack with papers and a laptop on my back, but it feels like a thousand pounds under my struggling frame. My suit is rumpled from the constant upwards motion.
My body is on fire but I keep going, never slowing down, never stopping.
I am holding my phone in my hand and checking the time, but eventually I decide I can't spare the energy and put it in my pocket.
26. I feel nauseated, on the verge of collapse, but I keep climbing.
27. This is my hell. I can feel the tendrils of the Grim Reaper slithering up my shoulder and wrapping around my neck, making it impossible to breathe.
28. I brace myself and break out into a run. Just one more floor to go.
29. I reach the top. The final push. Every step towards my room is accompanied by a cry for help from my weak, overworked body. I struggle to open the door. I am still out of breath.
I am on time.
I end up winning both judges that round, and go on to go 8-4 in the first two days of the tournament-- enough to qualify to outrounds. I lose both outrounds, i was still able to count myself in the top 80 in the nation that year, and damn it if i'm not proud of that.
the end
by the time I clicked submit, you had retracted the question.
