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What is Happening?

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When I was in 3rd grade, everything seemed to be perfect. I wrote beautiful stories that caused a grin to be etched upon my teachers, I excelled in mad minutes (a worksheet testing how many math problems you can complete within a minute), and I had numerous friends. Of course, there was recess, the best time of the day. During recess, I enjoyed playing wall-ball and kickball. I wasn’t great at kicking, but I was agile enough to convert my semi-powerful kicks into at least one or two bases. Wall-ball was really something I enjoyed. For hours, it would seem, I wouldn’t get bored of chasing the ball, frequently make catches, and watch in triumph as you get someone out.

One day, I was playing wall-ball like usual. I leaped to make an astonishing catch. However, I kept rising and rising and rising! The top of the school was parallel to my head, so I grabbed the edge. However, the building simply caused me to scrape my hands, smearing them with dark red blood. I saw the other children staring up in awe; a couple had even fainted! Ultimately, I was left in the middle of nowhere, with dried blood stained across my filthy hands. Literally, nowhere! I felt around, but could only feel the blackness that infinitely surrounded me, and the blackness that I had succumbed to. Losing patience, I swung my fist around, and felt myself falling, falling, and falling with no whatsoever control.

I was five years older, and my life had changed, or at least the football aspect of it. I shook my head with shame, as I watched the Patriots gift wrap an easy win in the Superbowl XLVI. What were they doing? First, Tom Brady automatically handed the Giants with 2 points. Then, he threw an interception, which was unreasonable. Several men were open nearby, but he chose to throw it to Gronkowski, who had three men covering him. Ultimately, in the last minute, there was pressure, no doubt, but that was no excuse to drop three catches, especially the one that could’ve handed the Patriots the victory! I swung my fist again, and felt myself falling, falling, and falling.

I jerked my eyes open, as my alarm had gone off. Vague memories rushed through my head; wall-ball, nothingness, Superbowl, Gronkowski. Of course. Another crazy dream. Or was this Inception?





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