HER FEAR

2. ....of seconds before victory.

"The seconds before an anticipated victory are most thrilling. Not confusing or depressing, but thrilling. "
                                                 ella_michy.

Chapter 2.
Past.

He laid down in the basement.. More like a dungeon as it was nasty. And by the basement being nasty, it had a smell, and not a good one. It looked like a rubbish dump where unwanted materials were kept. And it was disgusting.

Funnily enough, he felt as though he belonged there. In the basement. Or maybe if possible in a rubbish dump. It was where unwanted materials were kept right? And wasn't he? He was. Unwanted. Nasty. Bad. He felt lonely, not as confused as he was a week ago when his beloved mother threw his 13 year old self into the basement ,all the while shouting that it was his fault. What was his fault? His 13 year old self couldn't tell.

He waited. Waited. For his father. His father had not returned since he left a week ago. And it was right after he left, when his mother had recovered from the shock of his departure that his little self was thrown into the basement. More like dungeon.

Dad will come and take me away from this place. Dad I'm waiting for you.
 
Those were his thoughts. His father will come back. His father will not leave him. His father will send him to a better place. He strongly believed. And waited. He didn't know what he did to be put here. But he knew he'll leave once his father came. He barely ate since he was put in the basement. It was rare for his mother who he now despised to come by with food and water. He had had only two meals so far and he felt like he was dying inside. Slowly.

Why his mother was doing this? That was no concern of his. He couldn't care less. For he changed into something else. His heart once patient, content and happy. Was now tempered, afraid and angry.
She did other things to him. Things he'd rather not think about. He became used to the pain. Or maybe the pain gave him hope. Hope that he wasn't dead.

Assurance. With how cold he had become. How immune to feelings he had become.

Assurance that he was still alive. He was still waiting. Dad I am still very much alive.

Him.

As I woke up and looked at the time which said 4:30, I knew I had to be up. Thank God I'm used to waking up this early. What better thing to do at this time than working out in the gym. My gym. In my house. I'm smirking. Hahaha.

I go to work whenever I wanted but today I decided to go early. By 6:00. Which won't be that difficult in my opinion if I don't take too long in the shower. Not like anyone will punish me if I'm late. But I'm preparing. Preparing for sweet sweet victory.

I knew the feeling very well. Maybe a little too well. Victory. Satisfaction. The seconds before victory are to be spent well. That particular period is not to be wasted. At all. That exhilarating feeling. A rush. A kick. A jolt. A sudden impact of joy, excitement, a thrill. As you wait. Anticipate. That enlivening eagerness. You don't expect. No. You don't. Expecting means hoping for something you are unsure of but a little certain that can happen.

I wasn't hoping. I wasn't expecting. I was eagerly waiting for something that was going to happen. Without a doubt. I was hundred percent sure. Victory. I knew it would come eventually. That's why I decided to not waste these seconds. The seconds before victory. It is like you standing in a plane. Ready to jump out and have an exciting moment of victory. Being able to jump out and enjoy the rush excitement of a thrilling moment is victory.

But.
The seconds before that victory. More happens in those seconds than in the seconds of victory itself. Not physically. But mentally. Psychologically. A lot of things go through your mind. Like a last minute plan of what you've been waiting for. How you want it to happen. At one point you don't want to do it. Because of a certain feeling. This feeling is extraordinary. It makes actions and inactions. Fear. I never had it in the seconds before victory. Which I tell you, I've experienced a lot of times. Fear. That's why you don't want to do it. Then at another point you really want to do it so much. The excitement and thrill seems all worth it to you.
Then the plan comes along. How you will fall and feel the wind around you. Flying with you. How you won't regret it. Then possible dangers whiles in that victory. Whether it be falling and dying, hurting, anything. People never think of that in the seconds before victory. I do.