Anxiety, the black widow
He knew at his age it all looked bizarre but he couldn't help. Fear was what held him, surrounded him, stopped him from living his life. He felt how anxious surrounded him, hold his throat. It was as if she sat at his chest and choked him.
He had tried to fight her, struggled to get rid of it and there had been a time he had accepted every help he could get. By now he had given up the fight. He was in his fifties and those great days promised to him, his super future was something he had given up on.
It all started at the boxing club, came over him like a dark cloud. A cloud no one saw or felt except him. It didn't only surround him but had made itself comfortable in his chest. It was a cold spot not just in his mind but for real. It was as if his heart was held by an ice-cold hand. At times he laid his hand on his chest and as he did he felt the cold was real. It was no imagination like the young woman in her late teens tried to make him believe. Already the memory of her arrogance was good for freaking out again.
He tried not to think of her but he couldn't help. She stalked him for year's and there was no way to get rid of her. It hadn't been that long ago he realised no one would listen to him, no one ever had. The boxing club had been an idea if a teacher. She had told his parents it would be a good way to learn how to defend himself. He felt uncomfortable touching people and of course, they had bullied him, beaten him up, followed him and nothing had changed since then.
Anxiety ruled his life. She was like a black widow. Cold, merciless, feeding herself with his life.
The prompt is provided by @mariannewest.
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