This is what it is all about. The only thing that keeps you from being you, is falling off that thin line of winning or losing.

And I am the one, who will win. I have trained for this day, when I was just a child.

Watch me, world, I will own this.

"Otto, you ready to make an awesome entrance?" My best friend told me.

"Twister, would there be any other way?"

The blood is pumping. Eyes stink from the speedy winds as I zoom through ramps and pipes. My body is weightless in the air. Fingers glide over the cement with no problem.

The cheers of fans; are music to my ears.

I was born for this. It's in my blood.

Failure is a one mistake anyone can make. I only plan to make none, as I keep going. I just wish the others were here. With them around, I know I'm unbeatable. Even against theses losers.

"You're like any other newbie." One dork said to me. "You better watch out, or your dead, fresh meat."

Many more cruel words came, far worst then the last. But I never turn around and ran. I was no chicken. I will show them all, if who they're messing with. I found out later, that those words could become famous last words.

"It's a simple sprain and a few bumps, but he should be fine."

"Thanks doc." Dad . . . is that really you?

"Hey, Rocket Boy." Reggie? "You hanging in there?"

I can only smile, seeing that, it was all I could do, with the pain that was soaring through my body.

"What happen?"

Finally seeing where I was, and not knowing why I was here.

I was setup!

Those jerks will get what's coming!

The days fly by and I am finally ready to go back and this time, not alone. Seeing them in the stands, cheering with other faceless people, I don't know. But knowing they're there and here for me, are all I need to know, that I can do anything. Walking passed by the back stabbers, smirking very clear for them all to see.

"Watch out. I'm going to make you eat my dust to the skater cup."

I wait for my turn up to show my stuff. I don't plan for them to get the best of me. I came here to fallow my dream, to be the best, and fallow in the great people who were once in this very same spot, on which I stand.

The half-ramp is only the start. The feeling is back. That blood pumping, skin shivering, lip biting, goose bumping moment. I can't help but laugh and do all the moves I have done and made my own as a child.

"Go Otto!"

"Yeah man. You got this!"

"Go, Rocket Boy, go!"

Their inspiring words make me know I can do this. For my dad, step-mom, and sister's sake, I keep the cockiness down to a low pitch, for them, better than when I was a child. Can't let dad think I haven't change and let this get to me.

Grind the pipes. One-eighty and then a one-twenty-five and three flips in the air.

A little something Reggie taught me. Though, I would never tell her, a word of thanks to her face.

Next level of the X-Games, the mount dirt bike race. Me and fifteen others are now nose to nose for the cup.

Only four of them are the ones who are out to get me. Twisters' brother happens to one of them. Now, I got to beat him. For the pleasure for not only myself, but the rest of the gang as well.

"You really think your going to win, Rocket Loser?"

"Against someone like you? Yeah, I have a chance."

Never realize that I was that cocky in anything, even now.

The dirt bike race, is a six lap race. Through hills, mud traps, and cliff jumps. Still, this was nowhere close to riding the waves of Ocean Shores. The tracks are rough, mud and water blocks my eyesight of little to nothing. Few times of almost getting knocked out.

I was close to first, but nowhere close to getting the gold. Lars is close on my tail, and I got to lose him or kiss this winning goodbye. I can hear Twister booing his brother far off in the crowds.

A cliff comes up and I'm able to lose him a good half of a minute. Not much, but it's something I can work with. The only other problem there was now, was . . .

A wave of mud splashes' me, most of it misses me. I do a side turn them and move ahead to get away. No way am I getting messed up in that.

"No way your crossing the finish line, fresh meat!" One yells, coming up close beside me.

My legs beg for rest, but I'm not stopping now. I could just taste that solid-gold trophy. With the rush of the winds, the mud is flying away from my eyes. I can see the checker flag.

I'm just counting the miles it takes.

One . . .

two . . .

three . . .

four . . .

five . . .

I block out everything and focus on that flag of the finish line.

Two cliff jumps and a mud trap.

I ace them with sharpness of a hawk.

Six . . .

seven . . .

eight . . .

nine . . .

Ten!

I did it!

I really did it!

I'm the next Tony Hawk!

Yeah!

My family and friends rush to me.

I cover them in dirt hugs and receive my prize.

"Hey, fresh meat? Next year, you better watch out, you won't be so lucky." It's an empty threat.

I pay it no mind.

Even to whatever Lars has to say.

I am stronger. Because my family had faith in me. They can make you better than who you are now, work harder than ever to the ground; but with their kindness. But you can't be stronger without the help of others and right mind to do so.

The End.