The Wish (Book One)

Chapter 1: Somebody Save Me

Four Years Later

Baseball, when the pitcher throws the ball, the person up to bat, smacking it right out of the park can be both exhilarating and a nightmare. Not knowing what to expect is the worst part. Just the sound of the ball colliding with the bat is enough to leave a person wanting more.

Almost as if it's a gun being shot, about to hit its target. We're all just sitting, waiting for it to happen. We know that it will, but no one knows the outcome. The screams coming from the crowd, whether it is admirable or abominable is satisfies the ears.

When everyone chants. "Take me out to the ball game." Aside from all that, the best part, is witnessing the look on a child's face when their team has won the game. Fuck that. Baseball can go to hell, along with the guy who invented it.

Axel is infatuated with the sport. Being revealed, I have decided to suck up my hatred for the game. Only for a day, while we watch his favorite team tomorrow. The Baltimore Orioles.

Axel's first game, I cannot wait to see his little face glow with excitement. His birthday was only a few days ago. He admitted that his birthday wish was to go to a baseball game. Little does he know, I'm going to make it come true.

Before my father Douglas Jones passed away, that was all he would talk about. In fact, baseball was his life. He dreamt of baseball, tasted it, smelt it, and felt it. That's probably one of the many reason's my parents constantly fought. Other than him being one mean son of a bitch.

It was always baseball this or baseball that. We wouldn't participate in normal family gatherings, like go on picnics or hikes. Hell, he wouldn't even show up to my school recitals if a damn baseball game was on. Pleasure came to him from watching the sport.

Once in elementary school, dad signed me up to play t-ball. Even though I was a girl, he wanted to watch me play. It was complete hell may I add. Cant't complain too much though. This was the only way we would spend time together.

Let's just say if I didn't perform extremely well afterwards, I would have to run laps. Once I ran so much, my blisters had blisters. Found myself wishing or even praying to god that I could have a brother.

It's good I don't have any other siblings, I can't imagine how hard he would be on a boy. All in all, I guess my dad only wanted what was best for me. Or what was best for him in that case.

In high school he was the star player, even received a scholarship. Went to college, and shortly after was offered to play for a minor league team. The Chicago Cubs contacted him in 1987, my dad then joined their team, made it to the majors.

Talk about a dream come true. Until he threw out his right shoulder. A person can't pitch a fast ball without a keen arm. There was no going back from that. That's when his dreams of being one of the best players that ever lived, were over.

Middle school, after softball, I decided not to follow my father's footsteps. Or anywhere close to the path. Once high school came around, I thought I was in love. Undoubtedly, I got pregnant at the age of sixteen with Axel Alexander Jones. Let's just say I've been on my own ever since.

The parents barely helped, but could I really blame them? I mean, I was a child, having one of my own. I can't say my dad was disappointed, because I don't think he cared at all. Sadly, my parents died tragically in a car accident after I turned twenty. A tractor trailer ran a red light, hitting them head on. The best day of my life set in stone.

But after all, I began to miss my father, looking past his tantrums over lost games. I missed what I never had. Baseball is a way for me to remember him, only a reminder to why I despise everything about it, except for the good looking men in tight pants.