"I… I messed up, I failed." It was a bitter truth to admit. For so long I had known that I was a genius or at least as close as one could get to one. Things that were generally hard for others to do, or to learn came as easily as breathing to me. I might fail once or twice but that was the extent, the only errors after that were ones that were caused by my carelessness. Maybe I had forgotten a step or maybe I rushed through it. But this was different, I had tried my best, my life was on the line. The fear of death should have stimulated my potential, it should have allowed me to succeed at a much easier rate.
I failed however and that left a bitter pain even worse than the pain of my leg. It was like a slap in the face saying you aren't a genius, you aren't talented.
