Chinmay sat in the same spot on the floor, eyes shut, still catching his breath from that last miserable push-up.
The air around him felt thick. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, but his mind was somewhere else — somewhere darker.
It was as if the silence in the room was… waiting.
No music. No noise. Nothing except the sound of his heartbeat, thumping louder in his ears, each beat a reminder.
Then, the whisper.
The voice — the one he knew all too well.
"What's the point?"
It slithered into his thoughts, quiet and insidious, like a snake weaving through his consciousness.
Chinmay clenched his fists. He had heard this voice for so long, it was like an old friend. But this time, it was different.
It wasn't soft and pleading anymore.
This time, it was furious. It raged at him.
"You think this is enough?"
His teeth ground together. He wanted to shout at it, but no words came. Just this unbearable weight of guilt and doubt.
"You've done nothing, Chinmay. One push-up? ONE? Is that really enough? Look at yourself. Look at how weak you are."
The voice seemed to grow louder.
"You think that makes up for the years you wasted? The hours of mindlessly scrolling, the empty promises, the endless hours wasted on things that will never matter? You've done this to yourself. No one else. Look around. Look at what you've become."
The room felt suffocating.
The phone, that cursed device, seemed to taunt him from across the room.
The urge was powerful.
To just grab it. To escape. To fall back into the easy comfort.
But then, just as the voice twisted deeper into his mind, a burst of anger shot through him.
"NO!"
The scream was silent, but it burned within him like fire.
"I'm DONE with this!"
The floodgates broke open, and the anger he had bottled up for years — for all the wasted time, all the mistakes, all the things he had let slip — it all came rushing to the surface.
"I am DONE being weak!"
It wasn't just a scream inside his head. It was real. His hands balled into fists, and his body tensed, not in defeat but in rage.
He had wasted so much time.
He had let the world slip by, watching others achieve while he was drowning in cheap dopamine, in distractions that only fed his emptiness.
But now... now he realized something. Something deep.
He had been a slave to that feeling.
The false comfort. The instant gratification. The quick fixes that only ever led him deeper into the hole.
And the worst part? He had always told himself he couldn't break free. That he had no control. That this was just who he was.
But that was a lie.
A lie that had been holding him captive for years.
---
Chinmay stood up suddenly, shaking with frustration. The anger was no longer a whisper; it was a roar.
"I CAN BE MORE THAN THIS."
His voice was hoarse but determined. He punched the air, the feeling of defiance rushing through him like a tidal wave.
For the first time, he realized: the power was within him all along. He had been letting that voice control him, letting it make decisions for him. But not anymore.
"I've wasted years."
He paced back and forth. Every step, every movement, felt like a battle against something larger than him.
"I've wasted too much time listening to that voice. And I'm done."
The voice came back, but now, it was almost desperate.
"What's the point? You won't last. You'll give in. You'll fail again."
But Chinmay was done listening.
He clenched his jaw, feeling the burn of his frustration building inside him.
"I'VE ALREADY DONE BETTER THAN I EVER HAVE."
He shouted out loud. His body shook with adrenaline. His hands clenched tighter, but it wasn't out of fear anymore. It was out of rage. Rage at the years of wasted time. Rage at the self-doubt that had shackled him. And that rage was going to fuel him now.
"I've fought back. I've made the decision to stop being weak. And I'm going to keep going. No more excuses."
The voice was still there, but this time, it was quieter. Fading into the background. Because Chinmay was no longer listening.
---
For the first time in his life, he felt like he had some control over his own fate. The phone, the distractions — they were no longer in charge of his life.
"This is MY life. And I am in control."
---
And just like that, something inside him clicked.
A shift. The weight that had pressed on his chest for so long began to lighten. It wasn't all gone, not yet, but it was beginning to break apart.
---
Chinmay wiped his face, standing tall.
He wasn't perfect.
Not by any means.
But this was the first real step toward the man he knew he could become.
---
He walked toward the phone. He picked it up, stared at it for a second, and then put it down.
The temptation still lingered. The urges, the cravings, they hadn't completely disappeared. But now, for the first time, he chose to put it down.
"Not today. Not anymore."
And with that simple decision, the rage, the frustration, all of it began to settle into something else: determination.
---
But as he turned to look at his reflection in the mirror, something strange happened.
For the first time, he saw something different.
A small glimmer. A spark of hope.
He wasn't the same kid who had looked into the mirror earlier.
He was stronger. Not because he had finished some grand task, but because he had started.
---
"This is only the beginning."
The words echoed in his mind.
And as Chinmay walked away from the mirror, his heart beat with the quiet knowledge that he was now in control.
---
To Be Continued...
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