After Everything

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Hospital

It was Sunday, which meant Cassie was at the school's turf field practicing with her father.

"Dad, please," she said softly, shaking her head as tears started to well up in her eyes. Her legs weakened as her body was shaking. She felt too tired to stand. "I don't want to do this anymore. "I want to go home."

Her father refused to let her rest. "We've been here for twenty minutes," he told her, rolling another soccer ball towards her feet. She lazily stopped it with her foot as she looked away from him. "You promised you would practice with me every Sunday."

"Football," she corrected him. "I promised you that I would practice kicking for football."

"Well, now we have to practice soccer after you missed a goal at the game," he said before pointing towards the net. "Now shoot."

But her legs wouldn't move. It didn't matter how hard she tried. They wouldn't. It was like she was frozen. Her head was pounding, feeling like her brain was shutting down. She wasn't sure how much longer she could be there.

"I don't feel good," she whispered as she shook her head back and forth. She tried her hardest to keep her legs from wobbling and letting her emotions get the best of her. She wanted to impress and obey her father but her body wanted otherwise.

"Give this shot your best and then you can take a break," he told her, his voice sounding much more caring than earlier.

Cassie nodded her head as the tears began to stream down her face. She aligned the ball to the goal as she blinked multiple times, trying her best to have clear vision before taking the shot. She slowly stepped back, wiping the tears from under her eyes before taking a breath. She then ran up to the ball, using every last bit of strength she had left in her body to make the perfect shot into the net. Her father proudly clapped for her as she walked towards her water, letting the tears fall from her eyes.

Her legs gave out as she collapsed to the ground. Her head was pounding as she lied there, watching as the blue sky spun in circles. Every part of her body was hurting. She was in so much pain. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably, and she didn't have the strength to stop them. She then felt the pain in her body slowly begin to subside, leaving her completely numb.

It felt like her body had shut off, not being able to take any more pressure, practicing, or dealing with her daily routine. She couldn't function. She couldn't do anything but cry.

Her father sprinted over to her assistance, trying to get her off the ground and back onto her feet - but she couldn't move. The only thing she could do was cry. And finally, when he saw her in that emotional state, he knew how much he was hurting. He felt like a terrible father for brushing off her pain as if it were nothing. It was clear she wasn't okay, and she hadn't been for a while.

Her father carried her to the car, where she continued to cry - but suddenly crying became too much work for her. She was too fatigued to do anything. Her mind was hazy as her father tried to ask her questions, but she couldn't respond to them very well.

She had gotten home safely and was lying in her bed under the duvet. Her mother stood over her, reciting prayers in Spanish as she clutched onto the rosary beads and bible in her hands. She thought reciting as many prayers as she knew would heal her daughter.

"Natalia!" Coach Mendez hissed from the hallway, motioning his wife out of their daughter's bedroom. She furrowed her eyebrows, walking towards him. "What are you doing? She's trying to sleep. She doesn't want to listen to you saying the same prayer over and over again."

His wife was immediately offended. "It's not just a prayer, Enrique. It's a Mexican tradition."

Coach Mendez disregarded her comment. "She's not doing well. I think we have to take the next step and bring her to the emergency room.