My Life: Soccer

So far, it had been a perfectly normal day. Actually, it wasn't normal. We had won the game, and were moving on to Nationals! I leaned against the telephone pole, weary from my soccer game, waiting for my dad. He was never this late. Something must have happened!
Just as I was getting hysterical, our navy blue convertible pulled up. As soon as I got in the car, I was usually enveloped in a parade of remarks from my parents. But on the way home, there wasn't much sound except for the occasional awkward attempt to start up a conversation about my soccer game. Other than that, it was silent. Way too silent.
Back home, I sprinted upstairs to change from my sweat-filled soccer uniform. As I was pulling a shirt over my head, I heard my parents call, "Ivy! Ivy!" This was abnormal- my parents and I usually only exchanged a word or two, and never did anything together. Not that I didn't want to, I had no time. Every spare moment I had was spent practicing soccer. Soccer was more important than anything else to me. "I'm coming," I yelled back. I ran down the stairs, and grabbed a banana, but before I could finish chewing, my mom started talking, as if she had something really important to say.
"Ivy, do you remember your last doctor's appointment?"
Yeah," I replied with a full mouth. "What about it?"
Well, the doctor did a few different tests, and..." Her voice unsteadily trailed off. She looked at my father for help.
My dad suddenly cut the silence short. He calmly said, "It's asthma, honey. Serious asthma. You can't play soccer anymore. We're sorry, but..."
Suddenly the room seemed to suffocate me. I needed to get out. Running to my room, I slammed the door, and burst into tears. I had only heard 5 words when my parents were talking. "Asthma...can't play soccer anymore..." I HAD TO PLAY SOCCER!