I sat on my desk chair, swerving from side to side. I needed to blame this on something. I took a blank piece of paper and started to write. My head was a steam engine wanting to let all my emotions out. I could not say what I was feeling out loud. I could only write, and describe that angry sensation that was pumping in my mind.
The hellhole was slowly devouring me, enclosing my freedom to land. A dark shadow hovered over me like a prison guard; I was trapped and had nowhere to go. Once I was in I felt like I could never get out. It was like quicksand, pulling me inward, and the only hope for freedom was a helping hand. However, that helping hand seemed miles away. It felt like ocean currents pulling you deeper, pulling you away from society and land. It pulls you away from other important things. I always had to go by its ways and its rules. It was self-centered.

There were basketball tryouts on the Saturday we were going to be in Qatar for a swim meet. Katia and I were sitting in the airport.
“I can’t believe we’re missing basketball tryouts, I need to show the coaches my fabulous moves.” I said.
“Don’t worry, when we make the basketball team, we’re going to be double trouble, just like last year and dominate everyone.” she replied. Last year we were on the under-14 team and Katia and I were two of the best players.

The next day was the competition and I was in the first event, the two-hundred-freestyle. I waked to the pool doors and could smell the chlorine. The sunlight passed through the non-transparent windows, as it reflected on the pools surface. The quiet chatter of people echoed, as the bleachers were mostly empty. Time passed and the pool area began to fill up.
  As I waited on the chairs for the first heat to finish, I stared at the water; I didn’t know what to think. I wanted to do my best for Coach Zlatka or else she would kill me and yell at me, which is the most terrifying thing on earth. She was Bulgarian; I didn’t want to hear that frightening yell of hers in her bloodcurdling accent, RACHEL WHY YOU DON’T COME TO PRACTICE! But I still loved her. I had this I-don’t-want-to-be-here look glued to my face. My dad saw my look, walked over and gave me a pep talk. He told me, “To do your best, you have to have your heart fully in it. You are guaranteed not to do well if you complete something with half your heart in it.” He knew that I was thinking about basketball and that I was not feeling the swimming spirit. He also told me if I was not enjoying myself in the activities I joined, I could quit if I wanted to.

The first heat had finished and now, it was my turn.

BUZZ!

My ears were alerted by the rambunctious noise of the buzzer,
And my hands were tectonic plates, shaking the earth,
I could feel my toes constricting around the edge of the block,
My heart was beating like a snare drum,

I could feel the chlorine slithering up my nose,
For some reason, the first event always gets to me.

SWIMMERS TAKE YOUR MARKS!

I shifted my weight to the back of me
Did I really want to do this?
I saw the stillness of the water, pure, and untouched,
It was waiting to be pierced by our hands,

BEEP!

I dove into the past,
Water surrounded me in every direction,
In my head, all I thought about was:
The year before, the year before, the year before,

I assumed it was going to be the same,
Adrenaline stimulated me like an electrical shock,
I was nervous, but not nervous enough,
Four times, Back and forth, back and forth,

I was on my last lap,
My mind was a time-lapse,
Flashing: third place, third place, third place
Like the year before, the year before the year before,

I look left and right,
No one was in sight,
Something was wrong,
I was either way ahead or way behind,

My eyes glanced ahead,
I saw four propelling pairs of posthaste legs, 
I was in fifth place,
It was certainly not like the year before.

My races went by fast over the next two days, and I had won none of the medals I achieved last year. I said to myself, forget it. Katia felt the same way; at least someone knew what I felt.
“You know honestly, I don’t even care if I didn’t win as many medals as last year for this meet, though I had fun. I can’t wait to be back for basketball.” Katia exclaimed.
“You bet!” I agreed. I thought about what my dad said to me, swimming was becoming my enemy.

On Sunday night, we returned back to Kuwait. I packed my basketball shoes that evening. The next day was the second last basketball tryouts and Katia and I went to it after school. As I walked into the bubble, I saw some of the U14 girls from last year, and people who looked a lot weaker than me. I knew they didn’t have the same skill levels as I did. I knew I was going to make this cut. During the tryouts I did very well, I made a side shot, which the coaches saw, and I stole a pass from the other team. At the end of tryouts the coach told me to come back Saturday, which were the final tryouts and cuts.

During the week, I was very happy. Life was great and I felt like I was on top of the world. I was excited for Saturday.
I woke up to happy songs, as I was getting ready to go to school on this wonderful Saturday morning. I tied my laces tight. I was eager to show them my skills and was not nervous at all. I sat in the car listening to pump songs all the way there. If I make it, I am going to be out of the quicksand and up on my feet again.

I texted Katia: ARE YOU READDY?

She replied: YEAH I’M READY, I’m listening to techno music to get my brain excited. By the way, my mom says that you and I will defiantly make it, from the looks of our skills.

I typed enthusiastically: Yes!

When I arrived, I went to the bubble where the courts were. Suddenly, fear crawled up my spine; I was feeling anxious about these tryouts as I saw the people who made it. They were some really good people. My enthusiasm jumped out of me, it waved see-you-later and ran out of my sight. The coach blew the whistle; it was time for the last, and final tryouts. I had to do my best.

We warmed up and ran back and fourth on the court, doing lunges, getting low, and doing knee to chest running. Then came a drill. I did not quite understand the drill so I just went with the flow, and followed other people’s steps. Since I was confused and didn’t know where to position myself, and accidentally bounced the ball on-my-own-foot. My face filled with fire and turned as red as a tomato, I became really embarrassed. The coach stared at me with a what-was-that look on his face. I felt so stupid and wished I was dreaming, but it was pretty real. We then moved on to scrimmages, which made me feel somewhat better. I made a bank-shot and scored a point for my team. I then swiped the ball from the opposing team and attempted to do my signature lay-up, but then, I missed, and the ball didn’t go in. I was very angry with myself. Tryouts were over, and the results would be posted sometime on Sunday.

Saturday night, I could not sleep, 9:30 pm. I laid there, twisting and turning, with horrible thoughts flowing through in my mind. All the dreadful things I did at tryouts, the little mistakes, and the confusion on the court were movie scenes playing over and over again. I was basically debating whether I was going to make it or not. I had a bad feeling. I remember during summer, I said to my parents,
“Basketball is the only thing I’m looking forward to this year.”
What if my dream does not come true? I would be stuck with swimming, something that has clinging onto me for more than four years of my life. I pressed my head against my pillow and my eyes squeezed tightly. I figured basketball would be my helping hand out of that quicksand. Hopefully, I prayed that I would make it. I thought: I know I messed up, but if I make it, I knew I could do better. It was as if that helping hand was slipping away. My eyes, lidded and heavy, drifted into darkness, 11:30pm.

It was Sunday morning and I woke up nervously. I sat in my seat like a perpetual moving hamster throughout the whole bus ride. I had that nerve-racking feeling, when your heart beats out of your chest. When I got to school I sped walked to the benches, and asked Katia if they posted the list yet. She shook her head no. I wanted to know soon so I could get this nasty feeling away.
“Don’t worry, you’ll make it! Just like last year!” Katia said.
Though, I wasn’t so sure. I would have to wait for six periods to get the final answer.
Since it was Sunday, we had twenty minutes before fourth period. I sat there with my friend Mayanda and stole Ms. Bowers chair. “I stole your chair!” I smiled and laughed. She was my former under-14 basketball coach.

“You know, it sucks that you didn’t make it, you just started to become good at the end but –”

That information flew by me like a missile from the sky, I heard it but I didn’t see it coming. My heart dropped, and the rest of what she said was a blur.

“I didn’t make it?” I asked.

“Oh, you didn’t see the results yet?”

“No…”

“I’m so sorry—”

I stood up from the chair, smiled with my lips pressed together, and walked to my class silently. The helping hand had slipped away. The compelling current dragged me underwater. I was miserable for the rest of the day.
I told Katia that I did not make it.

“WHAT? I’m so sorry Ray!” she hugged me.

I got home and was really depressed. I sat on my chair and let all my feelings out on the piece of paper and didn’t get my homework done. My brain was not working properly, and I blamed it on that hellhole of water…
-- Enclosing my freedom to land. A dark shadow hovered over me like a prison guard….
I wrote furiously.

Katia texted me: You know, I realized that swimming is holding us back from a lot of things. Rachel, don’t be a coward and go talk to the coach, ask him for a second chance, you’ll feel a lot better in the end.

I answered: If do get a second chance, what are people are going to think? They will probably say: what is she doing here?

She replied: Who cares what other people think.

I wanted to do what she said, but I am not good at confronting people. If he did give me a second chance, I would be glad. I packed my basketball shoes in case.
The next day, I went to talk to the coach. However, I did not ask for a second chance because sometimes things don’t go the way as planned. I noticed I was too caught up with the thought of basketball during the swim meet, which is why I didn’t do well because I expected to make the team.

“Hey Mr. Gray!”

“Hey Rachel! How are you?” He had this welcoming voice that made me feel more comfortable.

“So- Oh I’m good, how about you?” I really have to work on easing into a conversation.  

“Good!” He smiled

“So I have a question, I know I didn’t make it to the team but I was wondering if could practice with you guys because I really want to improve my skills.”

“Well, I really like you a lot–” I knew he was trying so say no in a delicate way because he said there were other people who asked the same question and it would be unfair if he’d let me join and not the others. Plus there was no room with twenty something girls on one court, but it was okay, I understood. At the end he told me, “Don’t stop practicing!”

Don’t stop practicing. This made me recognize that if I really wanted something, I would have to work hard for it, and not assume that I was already good enough.

I told Katia what I said to Mr. Gray.

“So, you didn’t ask for a second chance?”

“Nope, I would have sounded desperate.” She had a dissatisfied look on her face.

“That’s okay Ray.” She smiled.

“Well, now you get to go to finish what you started in swimming. Things didn’t go the way we planned, but oh well, maybe next year. I shouldn’t have assumed you were going follow my words; it’s your life and your actions that matter most in the end. 

The next day, I left my basketball shoes at home. I realized that it was not anyone’s choice to make but mine to accomplish what I really wanted. Swimming did not trap me; it was only a state of mind. I could get out of that quicksand just by myself. I could go the direction of the current and end up in another island of adventures. I was free to choose and no one was going to stop me.