Mikey at His Lowest
Mikey sat slumped on the hospital bed, the useless arm hanging limply at his side. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. The world felt empty.Even Jin's visits, his classmates' cheers—they all sounded like echoes from a life that didn't belong to him anymore.
Every thought spiraled:
His mom was gone.
His father was gone.
His own strength had betrayed him.
"I have nothing left…" Mikey whispered, voice hoarse. "I'm… useless."
Mentor Enters
The door opened quietly. A calm presence filled the room: Mikey's mentor, the man who had trained him since he first picked up boxing.He walked to Mikey's side and sat without a word at first, letting silence do the talking.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low, steady:"You've lost a lot. Your mom… your dad… even your last hope to stand on your own."
Mikey didn't respond. He couldn't. Pain and grief had locked his voice inside.
The Tragic Truth
The mentor continued, his words like fire and ice at the same time:"Tragedy takes what it will. It doesn't ask. It doesn't care. And sometimes, it will strip you down to nothing. But—"
He leaned closer."You are not alone. You have me. You have Jin. That bond doesn't end because your body is weak. Strength isn't just fists, Mikey. It's knowing someone will stand by you when the world tries to crush you."
Mikey's eyes flickered, but he didn't move. The thought of hope felt… foreign.
The Mentor's Challenge
The mentor's tone hardened:"I'm not here to make you feel better. I'm here to make you fight inside. Tragedy will strike again. And you? You will either break or you will bend it into something stronger. The choice… is yours."
He let the words settle, then stood. Before leaving, he added:"Remember this: you are not alone. Not now, not ever."
The Moment of Realization
Mikey sat in silence long after the mentor left. The words echoed: you are not alone.At first, they felt hollow. But slowly, something deep inside stirred—the understanding that grief and loss could coexist with bonds that truly mattered.
He glanced at his useless arm, then at Jin's empty chair at the bedside.For the first time in days, he whispered—not a shout, not a roar, just a soft breath:"…I'm not alone."
It wasn't victory. It wasn't strength restored. But it was a spark.