Miracles Exist

Hell

A/N: I'm so sorry for not updating in so long! Uni is being a drag and this pandemic has drained me in more ways than I can count. This chapter is short and a bit meh so I apologize in advance. I started writing it when I was in my sad feels soooo, moving on. I'll try to include more plays in the next chapter.

Today was one of those days. When the inability of my knee to fully function and lacking strength got to me. The frustration of not being able to run or jump, play with the guys, or even bend down easily and get on a knee to tie my shoes has reached a high. The feeling of incompetence has edged its way into my current state of mind; a dark place at the moment.

I rarely had these days, I never really let myself feel this way. I've been working my way towards strengthening my knee, since practically a week after my surgery. The pain was there, but I didn't allow myself to indulge in self-pity; dad wouldn't condone it. He feared that if I didn't work my way back up to where I used to be, I would never get on the ice again. He's probably right. 

The covers of my bed were strewn across the bed as I dangled my legs off the side. My toes grazed over the rug, the wool slightly tickling my toes. I stared at my leg as I gripped onto the bedsheets, slowly lifting it while trying to keep it straightened. It wasn't long before my entire leg was shaking, my hamstring was burning, and my leg wasn't even fully straightened. My grip on the bedsheets tightened as my jaw clenched, my shoulders were tensed as I put so much effort into one simple action. The frustration became too much when I couldn't fully straighten my leg, my knee screaming in pain. 

Tears welled up in my eyes as I dropped my leg back down, flinching at the impact when it stopped harshly against the bed. That hurt like a bitch. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks as a knot formed in my throat. 

Why me? Why did it have to be me? 

I could feel a sob threatening to escape so I formed a fist and bit the outside of my clenched fingers, silencing my sobs. I felt like screaming until I lost my voice... until I no longer had any strength to hold myself up. My vision turned blurry as more tears started reaching the surface, rolling down my cheeks rapidly.

My face felt like it was on fire, my train of thoughts scrambled. I tried pulling my knees up to my chest, but when I couldn't even do that because of the pain that surged through my leg I just couldn't hold in my scream. I grabbed my pillow and shoved my face into it, just trying to scream the pain away. Almost instantly, my pillowcase was soaked and getting cold from the a/c. 

This is hell; this is my own personal hell. Why did I do this? Why did I get this surgery? It's not worth the pain. No one deserves to go through this. 

With every thought, my muffled sobs increased in volume, until they themselves fell in silence, the leftover strength diminishing. I felt weak, drained, alone, lost, and defective. 

I tried again, slowly raising my leg, said leg shaking more than before. When I couldn't even raise it halfway, I kicked the dresser across from me, picture frames that were placed upon it clattering to the ground. I couldn't even bring myself to check if they were okay, I was already letting myself slip down the side of the bed, raising my good knee and hugging it to my chest as if it were my own security against everything else.  

My throat was hurting from the knot that was lodged in my throat, the clear dehydration becoming obvious. I didn't dare move; my tears had yet to cease. My heart was thumping hard and fast against my chest, choking on my own sobs as I furiously wiped at my tears. 

How much longer will I have to endure this pain? All for what? So I can no longer play on the ice alongside my team? This isn't the life I wanted, I wanted to go pro!