Target Girl

Wasn't she afraid of dying? The risks were certainly too great. Knives every night whizzing past, thunking into the solid piece of sliced pine she was strapped to. She was not praised for her talents, for it took none to look pretty and be tied down. The crowd would certainly gasp in gratitude that she had survived, but all applause was for him, the skilled knife thrower. How could she trust him to never fail? Possibly years of practice, faith in adrenaline or both? Neither. She didn't trust him to never fail. But she knew he hadn't failed yet. She was ready for the day he did. No, she wasn't afraid of dying. What's more exciting than a spinning wheel of wood? The unknown.