How I Broke My Leg

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I was invincible, or so I thought. When we are young, pain is like another bad day.

We break the huddle. Butterflies scattering in my stomach as Anthony, my protector, left the field. Anthony blocked all that was a threat to me; something did not feel right. However I could not focus on him, I had a duty. Green right 25 zone was the play given to us. Objective: to run left.

“DOWN,SET. BLUE 20, BLUE 20. HIKE”

As soon as I blinked the play was called. My feet were dancing on their own, straight for the hole where the play was intended to go. The quarterback, Aaron, met me there with the ball ready for takeoff planted to my chest. I squeezed the ball with all my might, no one would pry it from my fingertips. I looked to pursue the seam but found a catastrophe. Three red jerseys were sprinting towards me, eyes piercing with intensity. My instincts took my legs the opposite way, my body could not respond to the action. It was as if my body shut down. I finally got my legs cooperating with my brain when I head a heart breaking SNAP!

My legs kept moving but the pain was agony. I crumbled to the wet muddy field to be buried under the pile of hard working players, I instantly knew what had happened. I tried to force myself to not believe it. I had broken my leg. My leg was twisted and crooked. As I gazed upon it I screamed my heart out. It felt like I was being tortured. My coaches came running on the field, afraid to touch me, scarred they would hurt me even more.

I was carried off the field and gently rested on the sideline. Silence was heavy in the air as all eyes fell upon me. I did not want to be there; I wished I could hide myself in a hole and disappear. I lied there terrified to think of how this would ruin my sports career and why this happened to me. I had worked the hardest of the team. I was ashamed, the hard work had not payed off. I had battled pain and won before; but this war I lost.


Trying not to focus on myself I overheard my mom telling my dad an ambulance couldn’t make it to the field. Next thing I was resting on power tools in the back of my van, speeding to St. Mary’s. My mom was grasping my hand, whispering encouraging words.

The hospital bed was relaxing but not the needles and movement of my pulsing leg. At this time my leg was numb but still pain shot through. Family and friends came later in the night seeing my health. I felt trapped, pathetic and embarrassed. I closed my eyes and pretend it all away.





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