I sat their nervously awaiting to be called onto stage, guzzling down dozens of lemonade glasses, all in attempt to ease this sense of nausea and worry that I felt in the pit of my stomach.

Many other acts have come and gone, telling us of the thrilling sensation that they felt when performing and how they smiled seeing the delight and pleasure expressed across the audience faces.

Clive is yet to return and my mind begins to wander, outlandish ideas filling my mind for something that likely had a simple logical explanation behind it all.

But, before I could give it a second thought, my name is called and I am ushered of to face my demons.

While I wait in the wings, preparing myself for what's to come, I listen, as Mr Ainsley puts his heart and soul into his performance.

Now, when I heard Mr Ainsley was taking part, I naturally presumed it would be a classic song that would be less known by the people of today. But, one thing I did not account on seeing was him singing and dancing to Katy Pery's Roar.

His words resonated across the stage, as this old man came to life, producing a performance full of vigour and power. His masculinity still remained, but it had so much passion, I would buy his album over Katy Perys any day. As, his performance came to an end, it left us all openmouthed and the judges clueless to the person behind that award winning voice.

It's my turn now and I knew that I could never top what we all just witnessed. But, with a heavy heart I steped out onto the stage.

As, I reach the centre of the stage, I feel my phone vibrate inside my  pocket, concluding it was a harmless message, I choose to ignore it, knowing I  could message them back in a moments time. Instead, I focus my attention on the overwhelming support from the crowd, who cheer and applaud my mere presence.

I feel my nerves being lifted and in its place, this newfound sense of pride and confidence take charge, allowing me to perform.

"I got knocked down today, hiding in my hideaway, so I have to say I live to fight another day and do it all once again, but much more than this I do it my  way." I sing with heart and passion, with a voice not so record breaking, but my long tiring hours did indeed pay of, as elements of Frank Sinatra etch themselves into my voice.

My first verse had gone down a treat, the audience swaying and dancing along to each and every word. It felt fulfilling knowing that people were enjoying the Performance I was providing for them. This sense of pleasure, only fueling my passion and heart, allowing me to further commit to my performance.

In all honesty, I didn't want it to end, I loved this sensation of pride, joy and energy all merged into one. Sadly, though I had to draw it to a close, their will still plenty of acts left to perform.

I listen as the judges praise my work, throwing wild guesses at who I could be. Some of them including Sam, the Scottish fisherman, Cooper, the Ice cream man and even Mr Brown, the 100 year old war veteran.

None of these  guesses were right of course, none of them even picking up on the clues I left within the song. I altered this song, personalising it to me. Geting knocked down, symbolising how I lie in the hospital weeks after my accident, with no wife or child to comfort me. The only aid I got was from Mr Forsham and his two loving daughters, who visited me every day after they finished work and school. They were like the family that I never had, the family I had always dreamed of.

Leaving, the stage with both joy and sadness, I pull out my phone to respond to the message I received earlier, clicking on the message, I see one word display my screen, Help! The word was small, but it was enough to cause me to quake, its impact knowing no bounds.

My phone slips from my fingertips, crashing to the floor, as a sudden gunshot pierces through the air.