~~I'm not really sure what this is, I wrote it at school the other day and I actually really liked the style... It's not really nonfiction, but it isn't really fiction either...~~
They tell you that you have a chance. They always get your hopes up and say you can make it. "Never give up," they say. "You'll get there." Slowly, they convince you. You let them become your beacon of hope. You believe in them. For the first time in so long, you actually believe in something. So you put yourself on the line, you take a chance and you step out to pursue your goal.
Then you fall. The critics step up and they shoot you down. You look at the people who gave you hope but they aren't there. You're lost and you're confused. The critics don't care. They're heartless. They yell and they scream. They pretend to know you. Your dream seems silly now, and you start to back down. The critics don't want to leave it at that. They keep mocking you, shoving your failure in your face. Every time you hide, every time you cry, they find you. They keep taunting you until someone else catches their eye.
So now you get left in peace. It doesn't seem peaceful though. After all, you're just another broken soul. You're scared, terrified to be truthful. Scared to trust and scared to hope. You got kicked to the curb, beat up, and left to nurse your wounds. The injuries might not have been from stick or stones, but words can hurt you even more. But slowly, very slowly, the wounds start to heal. They take time though, so much time.
Then you let that one person in. That special person, the only one you can still find it in you to trust. They try to help you. They stand by you and make you feel safe. They protect you from everyone who tries to hurt you. Your fear starts to slip away. You even start to hope again. They give you something to believe in, all because they believed in you. They took your brokenness and saw something in it.
Soon the other come back, the people who encouraged you the first time. You have a shot, you can make it. They're giving you hope and you remember the last time you took that chance. You tremble with just the memory of it all. You know you'll be on your own. Your friend can't keep those critics away. All those dreams manage to push away the fear of pain. You take the step again, exposing yourself to the wrath of the critics again. But this time you tell yourself you can make it.
They come at you again. You feel their hate and their rejection. Maybe this time you'll make it. You only have 2 options; you can let them in and let them crush you again or you can push through. You might fall again, you might fall a lot more. But you can't stop trying because past those critics is a prize, a prize worth all the pain.