Arsenal Womens OneShots

The Weight Of The Moment-Frida Maanum

The game was at a fever pitch. The Emirates Stadium buzzed with energy as Arsenal pushed forward, the ball zipping between red shirts with precision. Frida Maanum sprinted into space, her heart pounding as her legs carried her down the flank. She could feel the game turning, the opposition tiring under the relentless pressure Arsenal was applying.

She was in her element. Every pass, every challenge, every decision felt right, like she was in perfect sync with the rhythm of the game. Then, as she stretched to intercept a loose pass, something shifted.

It happened in an instant.

Her foot caught the ground awkwardly, a sharp pain radiating from her ankle up her leg. Frida tried to push through it, but her body betrayed her. She stumbled, then collapsed, her knees hitting the grass. The world around her seemed to slow as the pain intensified, her vision swimming.

"Frida!" Leah Williamson's voice was the first she heard, clear through the growing murmur of the crowd.

Frida tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't cooperate. The pain in her ankle felt like fire, and the weight of her body seemed too much to bear. Panic began to creep in as she realized something was seriously wrong.

Within seconds, the medics were at her side. Leah and Katie McCabe hovered nearby, their faces etched with concern. Frida tried to smile, to reassure them, but all she could manage was a grimace. Her hands clutched the grass, trying to ground herself in the moment, to ignore the sharp, throbbing pain.

"It's okay, just breathe," Katie whispered, her voice steady but laced with worry.

Frida's mind raced. She had been in top form, playing some of the best football of her life. She couldn't let this be the end of her day, or worse, her season. The thought of watching from the sidelines, powerless to help her team, made her stomach churn.

The medics were gentle as they carefully helped her onto the stretcher. Frida gritted her teeth, frustration and pain battling inside her. She glanced over at Jonas Eidevall, who was watching from the sideline, his face unreadable. She knew what he was thinking. He needed her. The team needed her.

As they carried her off the pitch, the cheers of the Arsenal fans washed over her, a wave of support that momentarily dulled the pain. She blinked back tears-not of pain, but of frustration.

Leah caught her eye as she was lifted onto the cart, giving her a firm nod. "We've got this, Frida. Rest up."

Frida nodded weakly, her heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty. She wasn't ready for this-not now, not like this. But as the cart started to roll away, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Whatever came next, she would face it head-on, just like she did everything else.