The Missed Catch

May 4, 2010
By DanielleMarie SILVER, Brady, Nebraska
DanielleMarie SILVER, Brady, Nebraska
8 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
Love is messy, that's why you have your partner to help you clean it up.

The pressure was on as the batter took his stance. Sweat dripped from the youth’s faces as the ball went twirling through the openness, then in the quickest second, it was hit and sent whizzing through the hot, muggy summer air. Everything went black for a second, and then all that was felt was heat.
Dazed I wake up through a blinding gush of pain enthralling my body. Blinking back hot tears so people wouldn’t notice that I hurt so much; I realize my nose is gushing red and I’m on my hands and knees staring into the empty nothingness of sticker encrusted sand. Immediately and almost instinct-like, my hands shoot to my nose and cradle it for protection of another blow. Bodies huddle around me like maggots on a dead carcass. I forget where I am, the only thing I feel now is the heat from the all knowledgeable sun just pouring its hot contents all over my miniature body. Salty tears slide down my face tasting like defeat. Not only had I shattered my nose from missing the grounder, but I also broke down in front of the crowd.

All of a sudden someone was clenching my jaw, making sure I wouldn’t move; I couldn’t see who it was for my eyes were engulfed in blood. The man started to twist and squeeze my nose making it shoot pain through my entire body; this caused even more blood to just gush through my nostrils. All of a sudden the man stopped and people lifted me and carried me off the field. I looked to my left and it was the strength of my fathers loving arms that hoisted me away from the pitchers mound in Maywood. Glancing to my right I noticed my mother’s eyes were watering just as much as mine, but that was for a different reason. As I was being taken away, someone stopped us dead in our tracks, it was the batter.
Tears streamed down his face as he apologized, his runny nose sniffled after each word spoken. I accepted my doctor’s grandson’s apology, and headed toward the bathroom.
The stop I made was at the mirror to look at the damage. My eyes burned as I tried to pry them open; finally I saw. I saw the black and blue start to trickle around my eyes, the swelling holding them closed, and my own blood encrusted into my skin. I reached for the paper towels, turned on the water, and started to work.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!