This started out as a prompt my teacher gave the class during Ability Awareness Week, I is then got really personally for me, and I don't know why.
The everyday life of a girl who lost her leg to an accident.
I tried slowing down my breathing, but it didn't work. Once when the kids around me no longer thought that me having an anxiety attack was funny, they got Ms. Sturges. She got me to calm down and asks me if I want to call my mom to come and pick me up, I shake my head and she tells me to sit out. She then tells the other seventh graders to continue doing their daily work out and when they finish they can have Fun Friday. I watch as the other kids run around and play basketball, soccer, football, and walk laps talking and laughing. I want to play football, but I can't. The everyone would just laugh at me. I used to play football, not that I was good at it or anything, but it was fun. Now I just watch as they tackle each other.
The dress out bell rings and Ms. Sturges calls us in. She gives us a pep talk and excuses us. We all dress out and as fast as we can and wait for the dismissal bell to ring. Once it does we scurry like rats to our sixth period class.
Ms. Dixon is one of my favorite teachers, but Life Science isn't my subject. It is so confusing, thankfully she pities me so I don't have that much homework. Usually I don't like pity, but if it's a teacher who wants to give me less homework, well it would be rude to say no, now wouldn't it. At 3:08 everyone packs up and crowds the doors. The moment the clock flashes 3:10 we rush out the door, not paying attention to what Ms. Dixon is yelling at us.
After my mom picks me up, we go home. I immediatly go straight to my room and collapse onto my bed. I let my eyes wander until I see my lacrosse stick, my volleyball, and my signed soccer ball that was signed by all the Seattle Reign players in 2014, when my team got the chance to watch them practice. Suddenly, anger filled my veins. I will never play sports ever again. I won't be able to run like I used to. I stand up, tears filling my eyes.
I storm over to my closet, go through the bins until if find what I'm looking for. I start ripping all of my fist and second place cross-country and track and field ribbons to shreds.
I sit on the cold floor until a familiar wet nose collides into my arm. I turn around and there stands Gunther. He backs up and bulldozes me until I'm on the floor laughing, completely forgetting about sports. He starts licking my face, and I realize what he was trying to tell me. He was trying to tell me that I'm not alone, there are others like me, and yeah sure, I won't be able to run like I used to. But I could start training for the Junior Parallel Olympics. Either that or he just wanted attention. But I'm just go with the first one so I feel special.
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So yes, I will probably not be able to complete my dream, and I lost my leg, but there will always be people out there that has it worse then you. You could be homeless, bankrupt, abused, bullied, limbless, the list goes on, but there will be someone who has it worse then you. You just have to find light in the darkness. I may not run like I used to again, but I just have to find another angle and do something else with my life. I have plenty of time, but the question is, do you?
