In this following series of posts, I will be writing a allegory. In case you do not know what allegory means, I will be writing a piece of fiction that alludes to real events. In this case, this piece alludes to events that happened to me relatively recently, that forced me to reexamine my fears.
With broken body #1
I could barely get up. My ears were ringing as blood trickled down my knuckles. Every gulp of dry air felt like acid as every cell in my respiratory tract screamed for hydration.
"When did this get so hard? I never been hit so badly so hard in my life," I wondered, but instantly banished that thought. My captain gave me a helping hand as I struggled to me feet, checking if I was fine.
"Why, you sleepy?" I joked as I puffed my chest out to show my most manliest self. My rugby captain offered to substitute me with the reserves, and it would seem wise to accept. After all, my opponents were younger, stronger and more energetic. But my pride got in my way. If I could not outmuscle or outrun them, I would outsmart them, I reasoned.
As the ball was thrown back into play, it was not long before I received the ball-- I was fantastic at my positioning. For a moment, all I could hear was the beating of my own heart. To my left the field was congestedd with players-- I required high levels of dexertity and luck to get through. Straight ahead was the open field only protected by one player-- their best player.
Groaning in my mind, I knew that on my best day I could not beat him on his worst. But I had to try. I bravely charged towards goal attempting to dodge his oncoming tackle. The end came sooner then expected. Within half a second, I was floored. My opponent seemed proud of his effort, but looked surprised when I revealed that I had already passed the ball to a teammate. You see, my body may be ancient, but my brain lives within the ticks of a second.
Floored, I wanted to lift my head to see if my teammate had scored. To my horror, I could not move. My opponent had already left my carcass on the ground, but I could bulge a muscle. "Was I paralysed?" I panicked. My brain was still working, but my muscles were not responding.
"Think!" I yelled at myself cognitively. A deep fear resonated within me. What if I could never move again? I knew I was not as strong or hardy as I was a few years ago, but now I was completely helpless, vulnerable to environmental forces.
Unable to move my chest, I felt a strong sense of breathlessness. My lungs were collapsing! Just as I felt my cells drawing on the last reserves of oxygen, my body suddenly jerked violently off the ground, as if someone had found the ignition of my body's engine. I coughed and sputtered as I thankfully sucked ina new batch of fuel into my alveoli.
My teammates were cheering. Initially, I had thought it was for my recovery; instead it was for their match-winning point. My stout captain had already exchanged his jersy with the opponents. Attempting not to pay attention to his divinely-sculptured body, I raised my right palm for the high five. He remarked that I was unusually pale for someone who had just finished the match.
Like a man, I grinned and told him I was fine. How could I ever tell him that I had just faced one of my greatest fears.