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Blurry reasons (Part 1)

Blurry reasons (Part 1)

I don’t know how I am able to stand, but I am on my feet still. My mind is trying its best to zone out, as the coach yells at me for missing yet another goal.

“You are a useless piece of junk, Ali!”

“It is fine”, I tell myself. “His words don’t mean anything.”

“Do you know how many people are dying to be in your place? Do you realize you are killing their dreams along with yours?”

The guilt creeps up, but I push it down. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know.

“You think you are a football player, huh? You are nothing special. You are a nobody!” I don’t care. The whole story is what matters. Let him yell. “I chose you, and I can throw you out the same way.”

I look down numbly, not having enough words to explain the blurry reasons behind my poor performance.

“Are you just going to stand here blankly? Look at yourself! Your behavior is pathetic!”

“I am sorry,” I manage to say. “I am just…” I trail off embarrassingly. “I just don’t feel well today,” I finish lamely.

My coach scoffs. “What are you, a 5 year old? Take some pills, and deal with it! Not well,” he mutters at the end. “Tomorrow is your last chance. If you miss one more goal, you are out of the team, you understand?”

I nod despite my stiff neck.

“I didn’t hear you. I asked did you understand.” He yells at my face.

“Yes, I understand,” I reply hoarsely.

“Practice dismissed!” He yells at the rest of guys who were watching the show from a distance.

I head to the bench and pick up my bag.

I retie my laces, trying to not think about the black hole that is enlarging at the pit of my stomach.

I glance at my teammates who are sniggering to each other a few feet away. They don’t even attempt to lower their voices and I hear my name several times in their conversation along with a couple other nicknames.

I leave the ground and head straight to the hostel, despite my grumbling stomach. I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning, but I don’t feel like eating now. Probably if the coach knew this he would say this was the reason I was playing unwell, along with me being useless at football, but he doesn’t know that it is not that simple.

It is never that simple. However, everyone at the hostel who knows about my eating habits seems to blame the food.

I don’t even realize that I have reached my room until I am digging in my bag to find the keys.

I probably left them in the library earlier. Damn.

I head down to the warden to use the spare key. The look the warden gives me makes me feel like yet a more of a loser. After the warden interrogates me about my keys and how I managed to be so careless, he hands me the spare to open my room.

When I head back up, the room is already unlocked as my roommate has come.

I sigh. It is fine. It is nothing. I head back down again to return the spare to the warden and come back up.

“How was your day?” My roommate asks in a bored voice.

“The usual, yours?”


That’s about the only thing we say to each other.

I look at my mobile to find out a bunch of missed calls from Mom, and one from my Dad.

I don’t want to call back, but it doesn’t matter as my phone rings, and it is Mom.

“Mom? Mom!” There isn’t a reply, but I can hear her shouting at Dad.

I glance over at my roommate who is busy watching something on his laptop.

I disconnect the call and switch off my Wi-Fi on my phone.

A day before, my roommate and I had an argument. He was pestering me to go with him to a party and I kept saying no and apparently, saying no to something you don’t like means you are arrogant and boring.

Today when my roommate leaves for tonight’s party, he doesn’t ask me to come with him, and that is the only good thing that probably happened today.

The rest of the day passes with me staring at the laptop screen, not taking in a word of the quiz slides.

I finally lie down after my roommate returns. He falls asleep instantly, but I lie awake.  I hate nights so much. It is when the worst thoughts come to you, and unlike everyone else, I can’t sleep.


To Be Continued…!!!



About The Author

Areej Saqib

I am someone that cannot be crammed up into one metaphor. Writing is my therapy. I love reading books, playing basketball and watching conspiracy theories. I want to create places that become a part of people's stories as memories. That is why I chose to study architecture. I am an introvert at heart, but I can come across as an extrovert due to my excessive rambling.