The Fighter

He realized a long time ago that life isn’t always ending up as planned. “You have to be happy with what you have” his father would say. That of course if he would have been around when he grew up. He didn’t choose to be where he is today but it didn’t matter now anyway, did it? He had to go ahead with it.

The room was awkwardly quite. A large room where 100 people could easily fit in. He was all alone, however. He sat in complete silence, his rush breath was the only sound that left a noise. Silence…the total opposite of what was going on in his head. 

All kind of thoughts racing fast…memories, things he should remember, small victories, movements of the past, nonsense that didn’t matter…most of all, didn’t matter now. He had other things to think of.

Among all of them, something was creeping up his throat, like a shadow that he couldn’t get rid of. It was fear. 

“Fear is for the smart ones. Fear keeps you alive” his father would say. That of course, if he would have been around when he grew up.

He was not, though. But from all their imaginary conversations this was the best thing they didn’t talk about: “Fear keeps you alive”. Maybe he came up with it because he was always afraid. Not vulnerable…he was never vulnerable, he couldn’t be, but fear was always by his side. Fear of defeat, fear of drowning in mediocrity, fear of not being the king of his world anymore.

He heard a door opening and noise flooding in the hallway. The door shut and the noise disappeared again but now he could hear footsteps rapidly approaching.

A knock in the door and it swung open.

“Ready?” the intruder asked

“Does it matter??”

“I guess it doesn’t.”
He rose from the table that was hosting his ass and started walking. Out of the door, into the narrow hallway. He starred stupidly at a lightbulb that was flickering. “Flickers as my heart” he though and passed under it.

The intruder went a few steps ahead and widely opened the thick door that was connecting his peace from earlier from the chaos that was about to start.

The arena was sold out tonight and the noise of the crowd nearly made his head spin. People everywhere. Starring. Screaming. Shouting in anticipation. Wanting to see what they came for. 

He walked alone through the narrow sidewalk between the crowd.

Hands were wide spread for him to touch or shake, faces crying for a look of his, but he couldn’t touch or look at anyone…fear was controlling him. His eyes were fixed. His heart was exploding.

He stepped into the ring and fear became uncontrollable. It was inpowering him now, fear was giving him strength, fear was each breath he took, fear were his fists, fear was his essence. Fear could be seen in his opponent’s eyes.

“Fear keeps you alive. That of course, if you are not on the other side of the ring” his father would say.



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