Dreams on Observation Decks

Fields and Flowers

     Wind rustled my black and gold jersey as I overlooked the baseball field next to the softball field. It went straight through me seeping into my heart of stone. Nothing stirred within, but hatred. Hatred of the too-perfect blue sky. Hatred of everyone else's life. They are lucky to still be in their own world. I have seen to much of others' to remain the same innocent girl I once was. Words gathered around me from the fellow girls on the team. Pollen landed on my glasses. Time to clean them again. For the millionth time, we were waiting for the boys to finish up their game, but they were talking their own dandy time. Not even close to winning, the baseball players tried to keep the game going as long as possible in an attempt to hold and trap us here forever. Crack! The ball soared through the air, or so I thought in my head. I did not care, nor was I paying any attention to those idiots below. Hair streamed in front of my face and I could smell the sweet scent of the community garden. The berries, veggies, fruits, and flowers always haunted me, taunting me, bringing me back to past years.
     For seven years now, I have played softball, but this year is different than before. I tried out for the school team instead of the rec league. These girls are strange and foreign to me. They are totally lazy, despite most being travel players, and joke around way too much. What is wrong with them? Sports are not to be taken lightly. If you want to succeed, then you must work for it.
     I glared into the ground, possibly burning a hole or shooting the spiky icicles of my dark, stormy blue eyes. No one could hear the loud screams in my head that tell me this is all so pointless. No one listens anyway because who wants to listen to the crazy that goes on in my head.
     Teachers, parents, and even students tell each other, "Try, try again," or, "You've got this. Just get back up." No one ever told me that getting up was harder when you fall into the wrong category and arrive at the snake pit located in the middle of the Earth rather than fairytales and rainbows. I am sick and tired of being pushed around, treated like a nothing. Pain no longer differs from normal. Life never seems to know when to stop being brutally devastating, especially when it comes to me.