Atychiphobia

A tear and a dream

I threw a punch.

The carnelian punching bag spined around in a twirl, as the coach's words rang in my ears, although I was not focusing on it. " I am a man. I will not lose this match," I said to myself. I imagine the punching bag to be the face of Grayson Hale, my soon-to-be opponent. Although I have been at this for quite a while, the surge of energy still flowed through me rapidly. The punching bag, flewed away in a discharge, as I delivered my last punch.

"Ok, that's enough for today," my coach said, leaving the centre to go outside. I remained still, as I took a moment to take a breath.

Oh sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. I am Toby Kane, as you may have guessed I am a young boxer, a high schooler to be precise. I have a dream, of being able to participate in the international boxing competition, but to be able to achieve that, I need to win the national boxing competition. And the training I was doing before, is just for that. You could say winning that competition is a step toward my dream. The thrilling sensation of the match, makes me feel weird in the stomach, but I am confident that I will win. Well, for now, I should prepare to go home.

I arrived at the locker room, taking out my stuff from the locker while daydreaming mindlessly. As I close the locker door, Lawrence appears beside me. His sudden interruption made me snap out of my daydream.

" Woah man, you scared me. What are you doing here?" I exclaimed, putting my hands on his shoulder.

" I just wanted to talk to you," he said in a soft and stilly voice, his facial expression remaining the same neutral and ordinary appearance. I don't know why but he is like this at any time, even when boxing. But still, he is very helpful, I kinda see him as my little brother, if you get what I am saying.

We sat on the cold wooden bench, as he stared at me with a bothered look.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" I asked, curious about his matter.

" It's about your competition ..." he mumbled while looking away from me.

"What about it?" I asked, now wanting to know more.

" It... kinda worries me that you are training so hard", I tried to interrupt him, but he added more quickly " Don't get me wrong. You train hard every single time there is a match. But this time, ... it seems different. Like you're forgetting to take care of yourself. Even the coach is disturbed by your behaviour lately. It's just you who don't realize it".

I went silent. I didn't know how to respond.

" Don't worry, Larry. I promised to take care of myself, I am a man after all, aren't I?" I rejoiced. " Here, pinky promise" I added handing him my pinky.

He looked at me with pure distaste, and remarked " You do know that you don't have to treat me like a child, don't you?".

I laughed gayly at his comment (not that meaning 🤭). Lawrence left me alone in the room, as he ran off. I took time to take a reflection, am I working too hard, just like Lawrence said? Ahh, who am I kidding, I'm not even doing the bare minimum. I would do anything to win that competition. But the only thing that concerns me is that other people are worrying, I don't want to be an attention-seeker. I am a man; I could do this.

I left the boxing centre, and decided to walk back home. It was quite peaceful in the evening. The soft light pink of the sky, makes it seem so peaceful. I pulled out my mint-flavoured vape and took a hit of it. Yes, I know, athletes aren't supposed to vape, bluh bluh bluh. Whatever. This is just to get off my mind, plus I don't do it often. I am not addicted to it like those crackheads.

As I was walking down the street, I saw a boy wearing a pink unicorn T-shirt. Those clothes, remind me of him ... my brain flashed, replaying that memory from that day. The scream,... the terror, he was just a kid... he was clueless and helpless..., I couldn't do anything,... why?

My brother..., a tear ran down my cheek, but I quickly wiped it away, as I took another hit of my vape. I looked away from that little boy and ran down. It already happened, I reminded myself as I tried to stop my tears from falling. The huge clump of sorrow that I bottled up, seems to break up at this moment. I quickly found a bench, and tried to calm myself down. Hitting a hit of my vape multiple times.

After a while, I ease up. I just sat there, without a thought. I didn't know what to do. I quickly got out and rushed back home. Come on Toby, focus on the important things, your match, and your future competition that will help you achieve your dreams. You can't focus on the past. I said these things to myself repeatedly on my way home. Man up, Toby. Man up, Toby. Man up, Toby. Man up, Toby. No, I can't do this today, especially with the match coming up.

I arrived home, but I sat outside for a while, hoping that the smell would go away. My mum called me, " What are you doing, get in!" She shouted.

I didn't say a word and entered. No matter how many " aesthetic" things my mum would try to add to our house, despite Dad's dismay, the house looks just as empty and soulless. My room was the only room in the house, that wasn't that lifeless. Posters full of boxing motivations and quotes, although it looks a bit corny, I still hang them up.

My twin-sized bed is messy as usual, my mom stopped cleaning my room because she wants me to be "responsible", well let's just say it didn't work. I am only going to clean up when my room matches that of a Discord mod. My schoolbag lay in the corner, and the papers of my recent tests, which are either marked with a C, D or F slipped out a bit.

I wish I could be naturally smart, but here we are. But I am certain for sure that a victory will be awaiting for me.