on the edge | Teen Ink

on the edge

November 1, 2013
By Anonymous

Not to be able to play basketball occupied my mind with pain and worthlessness. Basketball is life and without it I am nothing but a miniature fish with no purpose. As I crutch into the doctor’s office I am suddenly scared of my results. A rush on fear climbs up my throat and comes out as a squeal. I sit down and prop my leg up on the other chair. My mom has the same distress in her eyes as me. The doctor communicates, “I have very bad news”. I speak intensely “what’s the bad news” He says “Your leg is too severe to play basketball ever again in your life” Those words haunted me like a night on Halloween. A flash of tears jetted down my eyes and I banged on the table from frustration.
How could this happen? How could I just lose my best sport for one injury? It was like I just got my arm cut off and threw it in the garbage. I knew what I had to do


The author's comments:
it is in triguing

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