Finding Myself

Chapter 6

Annabelle's POV

Since I've been on bed rest for two weeks, I've gotten a lot of things done. Surprisingly enough. Being I go to school on the computer, might also help. That's besides the point. I figured out I'm most likely going to end up at- Seabreeze. Blech.

Seabreeze is- well was -my rival school when I was at Mainland. I feel way to much betrayal going there, but I mean... Its the best for me right now. It has all my sports, and thats really all that matters.

Its in the shores, so its not as gloomy as Atlantic. Its not in the projects, so its not as ghetto as Mainland. Not that I mind the ghetto; I myself happen to be very ghetto. It is however full of rich white (and some black) people.

Meanwhile I live in a trailor park. I'll get over it though, I was never one of the rich kids in school. I just hope these people are mature enough not to bully me about it. Yes that has happened.

Other than that, going to Seabreeze should be a breeze. Yes, that pun was intended. Two weeks bed rest makes you bored. Only thing I'm worried about is being in the 11th grade and having to go to a school where I literally know nobody.

In all honesty, I don't want any new friends. I'm not trying to be Drake saying 'no new friends' all day, but... I really only need Kennedy and Victor. Granted Victor lives far, but him and I still manage to be very close.

I just want to go to this school, get my education, play ball, and get tons of scouts for colleges. Don't judge me, okay? Yes. I'm a five foot four, 150 pound, thick, white girl from the ghetto, who lives in a trailor, and wants to become a professional basketball player. I take no shame in that, what so ever.

*three weeks later*

I've been off bed rest for two weeks. I'm in physical therapy at least three days a week. Appearently my physical therapist told my mom he thinks I need a psychological evaluation. Basically he told my mom he thinks I'm depressed. Today I'm going to ask him why he thought that.

"Hey mike." That's the name of my PT. "Can I ask you a question?" I say as I sit on the staionary bike. I was my routine warm up.

"Sure, what is it?" He says as he sets the timer on the machine.

"Why did you tell my mom you think I'm depressed?" He stopped and looked somewhat ashamed. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say sorry. "Its okay, I'm not hurt or anything. I was just wondering what would make you think that."

"Well" he began as he sat on a stool next to me. "All you ever talk about is playing sports. How good you were at this, how you needed some work on that. How you were gonna go pro and show your family you can." I went to speak, but he stopped me. "I can tell they don't believe in you, just by the way you avoid the topic of family and sports together." I lowered my head.

"My mom says it's not a real profession, and my daddy says its a nigger sport." A stray tear ran down my cheek.

"Its gonna be okay. I recommended your mom to take you to a friend of mine. She's excellent, she helped my daughter alot when she was struggling." I smiled.

"Thank you." The timer on the bike went off, so I stopped. "What's next?" I asked as I hopped off the bike. I'm so ready to be done with this injury, and back on the court.

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My first therapy session is today. I'm not at all nervous, because granted I have to tell all my feelings/issues to a complete stranger. For some reason, I really don't mind the thought of that.

I don't care if this person thinks I'm insane, or obsessed with basketball "for the moment"; a phase most adults call it. I hate when people say it's a phase.

"I've never loved something so much. To a point where if I play for six hours straight, I still won't be tired. If I am, I'll still keep playing. I would give anything and everything, to be able to basketball all day everyday. I would play in the WNBA for free and be homeless, if it meant playing basketball everyday. I understand being I'm only 15, people are gonna tell me this is a phase. I highly doubt it's a phase. I've had them before, and I never felt like this. I never forgot about all my problems when I rode my skateboard. I never felt free when I was in ballet. I've never been able to say that I've felt this strongly about anything. Not even my family, don't get me wrong. I love my family, but basketball just- makes me feel alive." I explained to the therapist; Ms. Carla. She had said that Mike talked to her earlier about what he thought was wrong. I'm glad he did, less explaining for me.

"Well, tell me what sort of things it made you forget about?" She asked. I sighed. Now I have to talk about them again.