Narrative About Soccer

734 Words3 Pages

“Mom?” I called out as soon as I woke up, sitting up. 1
“I'm right here. What do you need Mandy?” She replied peering over at me from the top of her magazine.
“I really miss soccer. I know I won't be able to play for a long time but, can you bring one of my balls into the hospital for me to throw up and down? I promise i'll be careful.”
“Fine. I'm going home in an hour to shower and bring you stuff to do for the night because it's me and your fathers 20th anniversary so we will be at dinner,” She explained.
When my mom came back with my prized soccer ball, I had the most melancholy smile ever plastered on my face. The pink ball was as bright and shiny as Times Square on Christmas Eve and New Years combined.
“I love you sweetie bye!” cheered …show more content…

What if I could score again? What if I could run down the field with a genuine grin on my face while dribbling the ball. Soccer was my life and it still is. Regardless of what the doctors say, I will play soccer again. No matter what nothing will stop me. I started to walk down the hallway fearless. As I reached the elevator, I thought for a moment. I was disobeying my doctors, lying to my family, and risking my life. All to hit my prized soccer ball against the hospital wall for half an hour. All I want is to feel the ball hitting my foot then bouncing onto the wall for me to stop it. Before I could change my mind, I pushed open a door on the side of the hospital. I was greeted by the city air and a view of the rolling, steep, never ending streets of my home: San Francisco. I found a hospital wall that had no windows. “This is it,” I thought.
Without thinking, I kicked the ball against the hard cement and it made a ringing sound in my ears that was like sound candy. Each kick got harder and harder until I was running all around stopping the ball in order to kick it harder the next time. All of the sudden I saw the ball coming closer and closer to my head. Then, BOOM! …show more content…

Before today, I couldn't even remember the last time I smiled.
Next, I remember floating in and out of conscious seeing so many people looking at me and talking to me. I could just see light on one side and visions of my family, friends, and life on the other.
It’s all up to me. Life or death. I really don't know what to do. If I stay, I most likely will never play soccer again. However, I have friends and family that will stand by my side and help me recover. I could push through this and win the battle. Soccer is my everything. If I can't play, why should I stand by and watch my life drain away? There's no point in living if I can't do what I love.
Now, all I see is light and me reaching for it. I’m almost there. Just one last reach and I can rest in happiness. Then, I see the people who matter most to me in life, my soccer team. I see them standing over me in my hospital bed crying, hugging, and looking miserable. At that moment, I see my soccer coach, standing in the corner with a frow and tears in his