Short Stories Collection

17. Soccer Girl Forever

Let me take you on a journey through a piece of my childhood, a memory that has colored my life in ways I could never have imagined. When I was little, I had a head full of red curls that shimmered like the sunrise. My freckles, like tiny splatters of sunshine, danced across my cheeks, and my hair tumbled down to my shoulders in a cascade of curls. I was a bundle of joy, a small girl whose laughter could light up the darkest corners of any room.Every day, I'd wander into the backyard with my favorite stuffed animal clutched tightly in my small hands. The backyard was my kingdom, and the world seemed endless and full of possibilities. My older brother and his soccer buddy would often be there, kicking a ball around and laughing as they played. To me, their game was as mysterious as a land far away. I had never seen soccer before, and the sight of that ball sailing through the air was like magic.One day, I stood at the edge of the yard, watching my brother and his friend with wide, curious eyes. They were so engrossed in their game, their shouts and the rhythmic thud of the ball filling the air. I felt a strong urge to join them, to be part of their world. I put down my stuffed animal and ran toward the game, my tiny feet kicking up the grass as I went."Can I play too?" I asked, my voice trembling with a mix of excitement and nervousness.My brother looked at me, surprise etched on his face, but his eyes softened with amusement. "Sure thing, kiddo. Just don't get in the way."I didn't let his words deter me. Instead, I focused on the ball, determined to be part of their fun. With each clumsy attempt, I tried to mimic their moves. I watched as the ball rolled across the grass, and when it came close enough, I gave it everything I had. My small foot connected with the ball, sending it sailing into the goal with an exhilarating thud.My brother and his friend cheered, their voices rising in a chorus of approval. I felt a thrill of joy like I had never experienced before. I danced around the yard, my laughter bubbling up like a fountain, as I kicked the ball again and again. The sun began to set, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink, and I felt a growing sense of exhaustion.Eventually, I collapsed onto the grass, my giggles fading into a contented sigh. The world seemed to slow down as the evening shadows stretched across the yard. I could hardly keep my eyes open. As I lay there, wrapped in the warmth of the sunset, sleep began to claim me. My brother noticed me lying there, his heart swelling with a mixture of affection and protectiveness. Gently, he scooped me up into his arms, cradling me with the same care he had always shown me. I stirred slightly but remained in a deep, peaceful sleep as he carried me up the stairs to my bedroom.The journey up the stairs was filled with the quiet hum of the evening. My brother laid me gently on my bed, tucking me in with tender care. He knew that after such an exciting day, I might have nightmares, so he decided to stay with me. He climbed into bed beside me, his presence a comforting shield against any fears that might try to intrude upon my dreams.As I grew older, soccer became more than just a game to me; it was a passion that defined who I was. I practiced tirelessly, driven by the memory of that first day in the backyard. I made a promise to myself: one day, I would join the USA women's soccer team and travel the world as a professional player. My brother's encouragement had planted a seed, and it had blossomed into a dream that fueled every step I took on the field.But life, as it often does, had other plans. One fateful night, after his high school team had won the state championships, my brother went out to celebrate. It was supposed to be a night of joy, but it ended in tragedy. An accident took him from us, leaving a void that nothing could ever fill. The loss was overwhelming, and I found myself grappling with a profound sorrow that seemed to seep into every corner of my life.The news of his death was a crushing blow. I felt like a part of me had been ripped away, and the soccer field, once a place of joy, now felt empty and hollow. Each time I laced up my cleats, I felt the weight of his absence. The ball no longer carried the same excitement, and the field seemed to echo with a sorrowful silence.I wore his lucky charm—a soccer dog tag with his name engraved on the back, along with a soccer ball and his favorite number, seventeen. It was a tangible connection to him, a reminder of the bond we had shared. Yet, every practice, every game, was a reminder of what I had lost. The absence of my soccer buddy, the one who had introduced me to the sport I loved, was a constant ache in my heart.Despite the grief, I found a flicker of determination within me. My brother had always believed in me, had always encouraged me to chase my dreams. I realized that I couldn't let his memory fade away. I had to honor his legacy by continuing to pursue my passion, by playing soccer with all my heart.It wasn't easy. There were moments when doubt and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me. The joy of the game was often overshadowed by the pain of his loss. But each day, as I practiced and played, I channeled my grief into my performance. The field became a place where I could both mourn and celebrate, where my brother's spirit was felt in every kick of the ball.Years passed, and my hard work and dedication began to pay off. The day finally came when I achieved my dream of joining the USA women's soccer team. As I stood on the field, representing my country and playing the sport I had loved since I was a child, I felt a profound sense of accomplishment and connection to my brother.I imagined him watching from above, a proud smile on his face as he saw me live out the dream we had shared. The journey had been marked by pain and loss, but it had also been defined by resilience and love. As I took the field for the first time as a member of the national team, I knew that my brother's spirit was with me, cheering me on every step of the way.In the end, the little girl with the red hair and the love for soccer had grown into a woman who had achieved her dreams, carrying her brother's memory with her in every kick of the ball and every goal she scored. The road had been long and challenging, but it was a testament to the power of love, loss, and the unbreakable bond between siblings.