The light from the stadium was blinding. Bowale looked up at the crowd from the dugout. Excitement coursed through his veins. The opposing team player beside him looked on, a straight look on his face. His teammates all lined up behind him either chattering or muttering something to one another. The line up was called and they all processed onto the pitch.

Bowale looked around him. It was his first game for his club ever since being handpicked from the academy. After all formalities were done with the players took their places. The team captain,Sebastian, took him by the shoulder and said to him 
"Zis ees yor beeg chance tu impress ze coach. Play zis game vell and you are on ze way tu a fers team posizion."
Bowale nodded. He was going to put in his very best. His mother back in Nigeria would be proud of him. With a first team place, his pay would be higher, and his family would leave their life of penury behind. He was jolted back from his reverie by the referee's whistle. The game was on. Bowale ran back and forth on the pitch, putting in passes for his team. 

He caught a thumbs up from the coach at the sidelines. He turned back to the face the game and that was when he felt it. A sharp pain in his chest. He ignored it and made a tackle on the player coming towards his direction. 

The crowd cheered on. The pain hit him again, this time forcing him to go down on his knees. He couldn't breathe. His vision became blurry. Clutching his chest, he fell to the ground. He didn't see the medics or the players running to his aid. He didn't hear the crowd gasp in shock. All he heard was a din. And all he saw was darkness. 

Jet black darkness.

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