The Arena

The Arena calls to me. I can feel my body sweat with nerves as I consider what my best options are against my opponent. Do I go for a quick jab to try and throw him off? How about a lightning fast sweep to knock him off his feet? No that would be too easy. I need to think about what HE would do rather than what my offense should be. I need to anticipate whether he’ll try to rush me down and pressure me into the corner. I need to figure out what to do when pushed out of my comfort zone. Do I keep blocking and pray that he’ll let up? Perhaps try to find a moment in between where I can deliver a fatal blow? That could put me in even more risk though and with how many hits I’ve already taken I don’t think I can afford that unless I’m 100 percent sure. The time grows steadily shorter as the looming presence draws closer to my being. I wait and hesitate. The ominous shadow looms toward me. It strikes me, my life slowly drains. “I WON’T let you defeat me!” I scream out. As I stand up and slowly get back to my feet I notice the inky shadow lunge toward me. I wait… and time itself comes to a momentary standstill. Everything is frozen, I can see it’s visage in front of me. It’s me, and everything I hate about myself. My shoulders tense and I channel all of my strength into the most violent uppercut of them all. I screamed the loudest scream I’ve ever screamed in my life as the ominous shadow absorbs into my body. As my vision faded I could hear the announcer scream about my victory of conquering my opponent, “Ion De Press”.

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