The Craze.

The crowd is screaming from every corner. People are shouting, voices blasting through the loudspeakers, the judges yelling, and the spectators screaming at the top of their lungs. The entire crowd starts rushing toward the ring like a bunch of crazed people.

And then;

A voice echoes through the arena.

A voice so powerful that it sends chills down everyone’s spine.

Today was the final match of the boxing championship, and standing in the ring was none other than Maliha Denim, the fighter known as the “Ferocious Fury.”

She was a great fighter.

Surrounded by four or five people, Maliha walks toward the ring wearing her signature hooded boxing robe .She steps into the ring, tightens her gloves around her fists, and raises them with confidence, ready for the fight.

Maliha gave her opponent a mischievous smile; the kind of smile that made even the bravest person feel a slight shiver of fear. People knew Maliha for one thing: she wasn't afraid of anyone.

She was ready to fight her opponent. In fact, she was ready to break her bones into pieces.

Maliha was aggressive. Her mind never focused on defense first; attack always came first. She never cared about her enemies or what they thought of her.

That was why she was known as the “Ferocious Fury,” or simply “FF.”

Everyone in the female boxing community feared her. But the fear didn't stop with Maliha. Her father; the only coach who had ever truly inspired and motivated her, was also feared by many male boxers, most of whom were now retired.

With a mocking laugh she says to her opponent: "Haha, What? Is the princess scared? Should have told your mommy to breastfeed you properly."

Smirks at her opponent.

Maliha’s opponent felt a little intimidated, and now she was even more nervous. She didn’t know what to say and could only stare at Maliha blankly.

She wanted to come up with a savage reply, something that would shut Maliha up, but nothing came to mind.

In the end, she simply said,

“Let the results decide who needs to be breastfed properly.”

Hearing this Maliha's anger grew stronger, she was being impatient to knock her down after her first punch. She, yes she was staring at Isba; her opponent, as a tiger stares at her prey.

When that intense staring competition was happening between the two of them, someone shouted from the crowd: "Maliha!"

Maliha tilted her head towards the crowd, she recognized that deep, heavy voice shouting her name from the crowd. It was her father The Great Josh Denim.

"Dad!" she jumps to the corner of the ring with dignity and confidence.

"Remember your training, all these years you hustled a lot my child. I have great expectations from you." says The great Josh Denim with a confident look on his face as if he was sure Maliha will win the match tonight.

"AIGHTS!!!" Maliha tucks her knuckles in and growls at josh.

"I will make you proud, and bring home the championship cup" Maliha says with great enthusiasm.

Josh gives Maliha a proud smile, Maliha returns it with brighter one.

Now it was time, to see who will bring home the championship cup. Maliha or Isba?

The referee called both fighters to the center of the ring. Before leaving, Maliha turned toward her father one last time. Her eyes glittered with confidence, and a warm smile appeared on her face.

She took Josh’s hands in hers, kissed them, and gently pressed them against her forehead a symbol of respect and a blessing before the fight.

Josh smiled proudly.

“Go. Make me proud.”

"And the match, BEGINS!" the commentator shouts while swaying away his hand between the two of them.

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