by Georgia Agan
No, no, no, no, no, this can’t be happening. The internal sound of Jessie’s heart shattering drowned out the blow of the whistle. She knew what was coming before the referee said anything. Her team was down twelve points with five minutes to go, and they needed her. This isn’t how it’s supposed to end, she desperately thought to herself. Unfortunately, rules are rules. She couldn’t hear anything but the sound of her own quick and raspy breathing as she fought back tears and turned to walk to the bench. As she walked, her feet felt like cement blocks, and she could feel everyone watching her, but Jessie couldn’t return the stares. She didn’t need to; She already knew what she’d see. She would see the faces of the team’s fans, twisted in anger for the referee who made the call, and she’d see the bittersweet faces of their opponent’s fans. They knew her, and she knew them. They were happy about the call and happy to get Jessie out of the game, but they knew it was her last, and deep, deep down, their hearts silently mourned for her.
This is it, Jessie’s thoughts continued. No more practices. No more games. No more wins. No more losses. No more team bonding. No more pressure. “It’s all over,” she silently muttered but went unheard under the team’s muffled cries of defeat. - Blonde Espresso