What happened next almost never happened...

The bar was crowded with people who had come to escape their own lives, to forget the burdens they carried. The air was heavy with cigarette smoke, soaked in alcohol and empty promises of a better tomorrow that never seemed to arrive. Glasses clinked together, laughter blended with curses, and countless conversations dissolved into a single endless murmur. For some, it was a welcome distraction. For me, it was only a distant echo of a reality I no longer felt part of.

I sat at the table surrounded by friends. They joked, reminisced about old times, complained about the referee, and passionately debated the match playing on the large television screen. Their voices drifted past me like the wind through the branches of a tree—they were there, but they never truly reached me.

My attention was fixed on the one thing that, at that moment, meant more than anything else.

It wasn't just a football match.

It wasn't just a game watched by millions around the world.

It wasn't just another bet that could be won or lost.

It was the last thread I was holding on to.

The last fragile connection to the belief that my life could still somehow be put back together.

If it won, perhaps I could survive this.

Perhaps I could find a way out.

Perhaps I could keep going.

But if it didn't...

My heart pounded so hard I thought it would burst from my chest. Every touch of the ball, every pass, every corner that failed to become a goal felt like another nail being driven into the coffin of my hopes. My fingers tightened around a glass filled with half-melted ice cubes that disappeared just as quickly as everything inside me seemed to be falling apart.

My hands trembled ever so slightly.

No one noticed.

There were plenty of trembling hands in that bar, each shaken by fear, expectation, or uncertainty.

Tick.

Tock.

Time moved relentlessly forward.

Each passing second brought me closer to a point from which there would be no return.

Only a few minutes remained.

Everything simply had to hold together.

Just once...

Just for one evening...

I wanted the world to be on my side.

But life had other plans.

A sudden counterattack.

A player broke free.

The ball fell exactly where it shouldn't have.

My stomach tightened.

My body froze.

For a single heartbeat, I held my breath and whispered a prayer I had never spoken before.

The ball flew toward the goal.

The goalkeeper stretched desperately across the line.

Then...

Goal.

The referee's whistle.

Around me the bar erupted.

People shouted.

Cursed.

Pounded their fists on the tables.

Someone knocked over a drink.

Someone buried his face in his hands.

Inside me, there was nothing.

Only emptiness.

A black void that swallowed everything I still had left.

Without saying a word, I slowly stood up.

There was nothing left to say.

No one left to blame.

No reason to stay.

Outside, the cold night air reminded me, if only for a brief moment, that I was still breathing.

I got behind the wheel.

The engine came to life with a quiet rumble, almost as though it sensed this would not be an ordinary drive.

For a while, I simply sat there, staring into the darkness beyond the windshield.

Then I pulled away.

I drove past closed shops, empty parking lots, and silent houses where everyone else was asleep.

No one knew that someone was driving through the night carrying a burden too heavy to bear.

A slow song played softly on the radio.

I could barely hear the words, yet every note seemed to belong to that moment.

My hands tightened around the steering wheel.

I took a deep breath.

I headed toward a quiet forest near Dubodiel.

I believed that was where everything would end.

For many weeks, thoughts of ending my life had followed me like a shadow.

They had settled deep inside me, convincing me that the world would continue without me—perhaps even more easily.

That night, I believed I had reached the end of my strength.

I sat alone, surrounded by silence, convinced there was no future waiting for me.

But the ending I had imagined never came.

Instead, I woke to overwhelming pain and confusion.

As dawn slowly filtered through the trees and I gradually became aware of where I was, only one realization remained.

I was still alive.

A question echoed through my mind—one I had never asked myself before.

Why?

Why had I survived?

Why was I still here when I had already given up on myself?

Perhaps because my story wasn't over yet.

Perhaps because there were still difficult roads ahead.

Or perhaps...

...because somewhere beyond everything I could see or feel, there was still a reason for me to remain.

Not every battle ends in defeat.

Some battles...

...are only just beginning.

What happened afterward almost never happened...

— JK —