It's Just a game

I don’t think I had even been alive for very long when my parents placed a volleyball in front of me, and by the time I was able to walk they had already signed me onto a team. I assume I fell in love with the sport because of how much it had been forced upon me. I turned it into my escape around the age of 15. So much had been going on in my life at the time with my parents fighting for custody of me with my grandparents. Yet even with everything going on in my life, instead of crying about it, I played Volleyball. But as we all know everything must come to an end right? We can’t rely on one source of happiness, can we?

On July 4th, 2021, I had been at my grandparent's farmhouse, celebrating the holiday with some friends as most would. There were 8 of us there that night, and everyone had arrived by sundown and planned to leave later that night. I sat on the barn swing with my friend Katie as everyone else played with the new ducks my grandparents had just bought. I scrolled on my phone, slowly getting bored of sitting and waiting for the fireworks to begin. I checked the time, only 8:25, and the fireworks didn't start for another hour. I looked over at my friends trying to see if they looked bored as well and then Katie stood up. It’s as if she read my mind. 

“I’m bored, let's go to the gas station and get snacks.” She grabbed my arm, dragging me off the swing and towards the barn door. Everyone laughed at her sassiness but still turned to follow.   

The walk itself wasn’t long, only about 15 minutes, but as a teen, those 15 minutes feel like 15 years. The 3 boys led the group, leaving us girls to stagger behind. Everything around us stood silent, the road felt dead, but us girls filled it with giggles and random nonsense that only we found hilarious. Some time passed, I don’t know how long, but it felt as if we had been on this walk for hours. My shoes filled with pieces of gravel, and my legs began to ache. And then I heard it, the buzz of that blinding, fluorescent sign light. I looked and there it stood, right there, all we had left to do was cross the street. The other girls rushed towards the boys, wanting to ensure they all crossed the street simultaneously. Katie, however, decided she and I were going to take our sweet time approaching that crosswalk. 

“Will you guys hurry up so we don’t miss the fireworks?” Braxton, one of the boys, stopped to wait for us while everyone else had already gotten to the other side.

“Patience grasshopper, time is of the essence,” Katie laughed as she sped up to walk past him and cross the street. I laughed as I followed farther behind her, not changing my pace. Braxton rolled his eyes at Katie’s comment and began to fall slightly behind me as he started walking again.

I swear I looked both ways before crossing that street, but it all happened so fast. Braxton and I made it about halfway through the intersection, Katie already made it to the other side. I heard the tires screech but the driver didn’t blare their horn. By the time I looked in the direction of the sound, it was too late. I heard something hit metal and then what sounded like glass shattering. I remember when I hit the ground, I felt my body drag against the uneven road, the taste of metal beginning to fill my mouth. I tried to move, but no matter how hard I tried, my arms and legs wouldn’t budge. Everything started to blur, I remember Katie running to me, but Braxton was nowhere in sight. She knelt, placing her hand on my shoulder, her mouth moved but I couldn’t hear her, only the buzzing of that bright sign. I looked up, I could see the stars twinkling in the dark sky, and finally, I closed my eyes and the stars began to disappear. Everything fell into complete darkness.

When I opened my eyes and I was no longer on that road, I found myself alone in a room I didn’t recognize. I looked down and realized I was no longer in my clothes, instead, I wore an uncomfortably large blue gown. I realized slim tubes are stuck into my hand through a needle, the tubes connecting me to bags filled with red and clear liquids. The metal stuck into my hand felt cold, it didn’t hurt but it gave more of an uncomfortable feeling, the kind you get when your socks get wet. There’s a sensation of static and prickles in my arm, the same feeling I’d get when my foot falls asleep. I try to shake away the feeling by moving my arm but only the elbow down will move. I look, trying to see what is restricting my movement, there is a bandage wrapped around the blade of my shoulder.  

“How are we supposed to tell her? It’s going to break her heart, Mom.” A familiar voice approaches from outside the room, stealing my attention. I looked towards the door and I could see the silhouettes of two people standing outside the room. They’re talking about me. 

The two people opened the door, I guess they expected me to be still asleep due to the looks of confusion they gave. I see my Mom, she was who I heard, immediately she pulls a chair up next to me and grabs my hand, tears fill her eyes but she still smiles. My grandmother follows behind her, sitting on the end of the bed, and placing her hand on my leg. We sat there like that for a while, not saying anything.

The doctor came in later that day, he asked me if I remembered what happened and how I was feeling, I just nodded my head. He gave a gentle smile and asked if I had any questions.

“What’s the wrap on my shoulder for?” I brushed my fingers along the thin white material, that sensation still there and driving me insane. 

“When the car struck you and your friend, the impact caused your shoulder to dislocate which usually wouldn’t be hard to fix.” The word usually caught my attention. According to him, I landed on that same shoulder when I hit the ground which pushed it severely out of place and tore the muscle. He said they did surgery which repaired the muscle but the recovery would be a long one.

“So I won’t be able to participate in volleyball this year?” I should’ve already known the answer. 

“I’m sorry darling, with this injury you won’t ever be able to play again.”  Never again? I tried to look at my mom and grandmother hoping they would say that wasn’t true, but they refused to make eye contact with me. So this is what they were talking about outside the room. The doctor kept talking, going on about the recovery process, but I wasn’t listening. I couldn’t focus on a recovery that wouldn’t lead to me playing again.

I refused even to try and find joy in something else for at least 7 months, hoping that just maybe a doctor would tell me I was cleared, they never did though. Looking back on the way I reacted, I understand why I was so upset, that sport meant everything to me, but at the same time that shouldn’t have been my main concern. I didn’t even think to ask about Braxton and while he ended up being okay, I was still more worried about a sport than my friend. I wish I thought about how grateful I should’ve been that a silly sport was the only thing I lost, Braxton or I could’ve died, I could’ve lost that arm or had to breathe through a machine for the rest of my life. As much as I miss playing volleyball, I am forever grateful that something worse hadn’t happened and I wouldn’t change that. I mean just like I said, everything must come to an end at some point.