The Fateful Day
By: Marc Goel
October 25, 2018
It was never clear what happened that day. Nobody wanted to talk to me about it and my memory is, up to this day, fuzzy. But I can still pry out a lot of the minor details of what happened during the soccer game. All semester, I was practicing for the big game. Working for hours every day, just so I was prepared. After school each day, I would sneak out into the soccer field just to get in a little more practice.
Then, the day of the game finally arrived. All morning, it was raining. So, I couldn’t get a lot of outdoor practice done without slipping in mud, but I still did it. At 8:00, I had the ball. Desperately, I kicked it toward a goal. Unfortunately, it wasn’t our goal I was running at, but I had the ball, and that’s all that mattered.
I charged toward the goal, stomping on the moist dirt. I never ran as fast in my life. Everything around me faded. Just me, the ball, and the goal. I didn’t realize what was happening behind me. That I was sprinting toward the enemy goal, and my entire team was chasing after me.
I was too young to differentiate my team from the enemy team, but I was so close to a goal. In my mind, goal means win, then I slipped.
The soil was still wet from the thunderstorm that morning. I should’ve known better than to run on the mud. My body crashed into the ground, rattling my teeth.
Zac, one of the older kids in my class, collided into me. I was sent flying through the air, and I crashed, head first, into the metal goal. My vision went blurry. The pain faded as my entire body became numb. but I could feel pressure on my torso. Like feet kicking my stomach. Until my faded vision became completely black.
That’s when I woke up.
A soft, cold breeze blew across my cheek. I could feel the warm weight of a blanket on top of me. Suddenly, like a wrecking ball pinning me against a building, the pain was back. My head was pounding too hard for me to think properly. My middle ached with bruises and cuts, all along my back and stomach. I opened my eyes into thin slits. I was in my room. Bright sunlight flooded into the room through an open window. All of my stuffed animals were lined up beside my bed as always. And my bookshelf was still covered with my favourite stories.
I groaned and pushed myself up. It felt like I was asleep for days. Despite the wind leaking through the window, the room was very hot. I looked over at my bedside clock. It was 12:40. How could I have slept in so long? I usually woke up at seven.
My door creaked open slightly. A heavy smell of bacon and eggs drifted into the room, sparking my hunger. I turned my head and saw a face peeking in through the door opening. “I thought I heard something in here.” I could hear the smile in her voice.
My mom opened the door wider until she could slip into the room. She was wearing a pink shirt, jeans, and slippers, with an apron covering her chest. “I made you some breakfast.” Her tone was...