Ronnie Harris

Screams roared all around the stadium, but Ronnie Harris heard nothing more than his own heartbeat in his chest and the slow, concentrated breaths passing his opened lips. He appreciated the cheers when he sat on the bench while the defense took the field, but they ceased to exist when it was the offense's time.

Breathe, he thought. Just breathe.

The quarterback stood a few feet from the center. Ronnie watched his head swivel from left to right, where Ronnie stood, waiting. The quarterback did not linger too long on Ronnie to avoid the defense reading his call. It could not have been too hard to see the play. It was more if Ronnie could speed through his route and make the catch. He'd done it a million times before.

A single bead of sweat curled over Ronnie's brow. He took a peek at the strong safety, knowing he was the only one he had to beat. The blitz came as no surprise. The defense was up against the best wide receiver in the game. They needed to keep the ball from falling into his hands.

Ronnie's mouth curled. They can try.

By the time the ball was hiked, and in his QB's hand, Ronnie ran at full speed toward the safety. He twisted at his waist, waving his arm in the air just as he cut the defense's path. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the kid fall to the turf. The quarterback pointed in Ronnie's direction, pulled back his arm, and shot the pigskin in a beautiful arch.

Ronnie's eyes shot open. The early morning sunlight streamed through the only window hanging three-quarters up the back wall, making the bland white paint glow as if it were made of fluorescent lights, like the ones above the bed. He stared at the metal bars that secured the glass from opening for the off chance he might throw himself out of it to the pavement five stories below. He chewed on the mouth sore he created on the inside of his thick bottom lip, unable to shake the thought of what the fall would feel like. A piece of skin flapped just beyond where his teeth could not reach on their own. He tried to lift his fingers to his chin, but the straps kept his wrists locked to his side. Ronnie rolled his hazel eyes and settled back into the stiff pillow behind his head.

Ronnie told her to get out of his room and how much he hated her. He never truly hated Tanisha. Deep down in his heart, he was proud of her. The only success story their parents had left. But what was the point of their friendly sibling rivalry now that Ronnie couldn't even wipe his own ass? Tanisha knew that Ronnie was never going to retaliate with his own trophy. Unless it came in the form of a tombstone.

Derrick, Ronnie's father, came into his bedroom just as Ronnie started drifting off to his end. The last thing he heard was him screaming for help and begging Ronnie not to leave yet. He recalled bits and pieces of the ride to the hospital and the tube shoved down his throat to pump his stomach.

She pulled off the blanket that covered his bottom half, only dressed in a diaper. Ronnie turned his head back toward the window. He could not look at his legs or feet. White ash coated the brown skin that he took so much pride in when they worked. They let him down because they no longer moved. His weakened body was nothing more than a joke to him now. He was once a thriving wide receiver on his way to the professionals. Now paralyzed, Ronnie sometimes wondered how the other guy felt when he watched Ronnie sprawled out on the field, unable to move anything below his waist and being carried off on a stretcher. What went through his mind knowing he disfigured a man that had only one dream in his life?

"Goodness," the nurse said under her breath. Ronnie shook his head. He could smell the foul stench coming from below. The nurse scooped up his legs and moved him around like an infant.

"I hate you," he said, fighting back the tears.

"I know," she said. Sadness thickened her voice.

Ronnie thought of his family as the nurse worked. He wondered what happened to his oldest sister when she left the family a few years ago. Leticia hated the way their parents refused to allow her to follow her dream of becoming an animator. They wanted to raise their family in sports, not a computer nerd.