"0:20"

The scoreline read, Oxygen Polytechnic 12 to Reyner Polytechnic 15. It was the finals of the Inter-Polytechnic rugby competition. 20 Seconds was all we had left.

The entire year of training, the hardship, the sweat, blood and tears that we had all endured together, all boiled down to this moment in our lives.

Reyner's atheletes were ridiculously good at this sport, fast, strong, intelligent, they were all near perfect players.

We got to the finals as a team, who believed in each other, believed in me mostly, as I had scored a majority of my team's points on the lead-up to the finals.

"Was this the limit of heart and hardwork? Does talent finally overcome the spirit of our team?"

I stared blankly at the goal posts a good 60 meters away, tears building in my eyes as doubt engulfed me. I felt suffocated, my knees buckled as I fell on my knees, lips inches away from the blades of grass that was once beneath my feet.

The smell of grass, sweat and fresh blood invaded my nostrils, but this time something else accompanied them, and that smell was not good, it was the smell of resignation.

"Jay! Jay! Jay!" a distant sound buzzed around my ears.

Looking up, I saw my teammates huddled around me before we took our last penalty.

"We need you bro, we can all do this."

"Jay, you know I have always looked up to you because of your never-say-die attitude, come on let's go." Gene added.

Seeing each face inscribed with determination and sensing their overwhelming strength, I laid both palms on the floor, the feeling of soft mud coating them.

"Guys I'm sorry, and let's win this." I wiped my battle-hardened hands on my Blue-White jersey, as I lined up to be the receiver of the ball.

"Peeep!" The whistle was blown, as Gene nudged the ball and passed it directly to my hands. I knew, it is me, or never.

I grabbed the ball cleanly, the pores on the prized asset of the rugby game snug in my palms, and I started running as fast as my legs could carry me.

I was greeted with a wall of 3 opposition players, I took a step to the right, shoved my left palm into the face of the oncoming tackler, and barged straight into the player on the right.

I had entered my zone, everything became instinct. Thoughts became redundant. That was the last thing I remember. By the time my haze cleared up, I was on the floor underneath the posts, ball lying beside me, with one hand over it. I had done it. I answered my team's dying call, and became their savior.

That happened 2 years ago. In truth, I am a very gifted person, with talent beyond my peers, the ability to excel in anything I choose to, learning faster than my fellow classmates.

But recently I have lost that spark in me, I have stopped playing rugby altogether. I feel lethargic, lost and tired. My grades have plummeted for the same amount of effort I put in on a regular basis.

Suicidal thoughts invade me on a regular basis, and I have picked up heavy smoking. That is my reality.

What has made me this way? The only explanation I have is one reason, love.

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Was it a good first chapter? Hopefully it was.

I'll do up my background and stuff tomorrow.

Comments and feedback will be very well-appreciated