Gainford vs Rangers (1)

[(!HBJKN^FTF%$@%GUSBBJ) WISHES {NIKHIL PATEL} BEST OF LUCK]

[(!^^@HSJBLIW*HLI:O)... INITIATING (%RR&^@GBJCAS)... SETTING TIME COORDINATES TO HOST AGE {10}... (&&GDVS+_@+=epmh) READY]

[CONGRATULATIONS!!! (S^&SIWSN^&^*^KN) FOR THE UNPRECEDENTED ACHIEVEMENT (MJCHVJH4684&^*%^) HAS DECIDED TO AWARD YOU. (%@$&hvhjVCG57\51) IS BEING BOUND TO {NIKHIL PATEL}]

The wall of garbled text caused me to subconsciously jerk my head away in a futile struggle to distance myself from the screen. Overcoming the innate rejection, I read the few legible words, causing my eyelids to shrink into my face.

Afraid that they might pop off my face, I shut my eyes while my overwhelmed brain attempted to process what it'd just been fed. In need of more information, I begrudgingly laid my eyes upon the jumbled mess of characters and pried away every intelligible word, jotting them down.

"Well, that explains a lot", I spoke out loud, almost in an attempt to drown the numerous thoughts swirling in my mind. 

Some power had rewarded me with a second shot at life for achieving an unprecedented feat, propelling my soul back through the fabric of time after binding these windows to it. 

'Was that kid really some kind of supernatural being?'

'Did I unintentionally solve human suffering? Or save the planet?'

Forcing my scatterbrained speculations to take the back seat by sucking in deep breaths, I felt my mind leaning towards a couple of theories, 'Some extraterrestrial or divine being had an arbitrary benchmark which I happened to fulfill, or, that kid was a godly being who had lost his powers'

As laughably bizarre as that sounded, my experience over the past couple of days eliminated any chances of this being a human endeavor. The sensations felt too convincing, too real for human beings to achieve. 

'On another note, souls are real. Good to know, I guess?'

These revelations opened an avenue of discussion I'd avoided, that of the supernatural. As silly as it may seem for me to doubt their existence, especially considering my circumstances, the confirmation of the presence of the soul and the involvement of some inexplicable power, has forced me to reconsider the existence of supernatural powers or beings.

'Why allow me to discover them, though? Do they just not care?', I pondered, before realizing the futility of attempting to understand a possibly divine being.

'These windows on the other hand... What's your purpose? Some kind of monitoring device, maybe? But why only football?'

Realizing I'd not come any closer to figuring out their function, I willed the windows away and decided to turn in for the night, hoping to gain more information after the game tomorrow. 

'Here's wishing I don't get any nightmares this time', I thought while making an active effort to sleep.

***************************

*Beep* *Beep*

Turning off the alarm, I sat up with a smile, feeling refreshed from a much-needed uninterrupted stretch of sleep.

'That was awesome. How long has it been, including the days since taking on that report?', I wondered before ridiculing myself when I counted past half a month, 'Geez, what was I thinking putting myself through that?'

Choosing to not let the past dampen my mood, I got through my morning routine with a pep in my step. Slipping myself into the club jersey - a maroon half-t-shirt and blue shorts, I approached the mirror.

After meticulously setting my hair, I pumped up my fists, flashing a grin, "Here I come, Rangers"

Sauntering down the stairs while humming, I noticed the table crowded with a hearty breakfast. Turning to find Dad browsing the newspaper, as usual, I chirped, "Good Morning! Great day, innit?"

"Good Morning. Someone's in a good mood. Did something happen?", he replied, still buried behind the papers. 

"Not really, I'm just excited about the game today"

"I see. In good form I presume?", he asked while putting the newspaper away.

"You bet! I'm gonna score some goals today!", I asserted while crossing my arms in confidence.

"Haha, I sure do hope so. I noticed you didn't go out, no morning exercise today?", he questioned with a small smile, presumably happy with my choice.

"No prior exercises on matchdays", I clarified, receiving a nod from Dad.

"Good morning, sweetie. Did you sleep well?", Mom appeared, carrying a steaming heap of sausages from the kitchen.

Taking the hefty plate off her hands, I exclaimed, "Good morning! Holy, smells absolutely delicious!"

Smiling at the compliment, she enquired, "When is the match?"

"Kick-off is at 11 AM at the local football field", I replied while eyeing the increasingly irresistible table giving off a medley of aromas. 

"Ok. Mom and Dad will be there to cheer you on", she responded before pushing me in the direction of the table, "What are you waiting for? Dive in"

I shot her a smile before gorging on the mouth-watering food.

********************************

"Gotta be at least 5ft 7inch".... "He's lying about age"..... "Looks like the older brother"..... "No way Harry's winning"

Amid the murmur of the bench members as they gawked at extraordinarily tall number 10, I observed the starting players as they struggled to condition their minds, most failing miserably while stealing frightened glances at him.

Ironically, Harry seemed more fired up than ever, probably not taking kindly to the murmurs about his chances against the telephone pole.

'Good. Although he's tall, he doesn't seem to have a lot of strength. With all that height, his balance might be off too. As long as Harry can handle him on set pieces, we'll outscore them'

A few minutes prior to kick-off, Coach James gathered the team together into a huddle and spoke, "Game time, boys. Last chance to back off if someone is not feeling up to it" while staring menacingly at the frightened kids.

Taken aback, they strengthened their expressions, firmly staring back at James, making him respond with a proud nod. Satisfied with the mental arming, he declared passionately, "There's no need to be nervous. Remember, they are the challengers today. We are the top team and will continue to be so. Right?!!!" finishing with a scream.

"Yes!!!!" * 20

"That's the spirit! Now, go and destroy them!", he shouted, pointing to the confused opposition.

Waiting for the referee to blow the whistle, I inspected the reason for our change in tactics. He stood at an impressive 5ft 7 inches, a whole foot taller than me. With caucasian skin, blue eyes and a broad face, he couldn't look any more Dutch.

*Fweeeeeeeeeeeeep*

*Ding*

[Host detected playing football. Collecting information]

The whistle paired with a familiar tone spelled the start of my first official match.

Author's Notes:

This chapter went philosophical ¯\(°_o)/¯

If you want to support me, tip me @

paypal . me / adhik57

Hope you enjoyed reading :)