by Georgia Agan
blonde espresso
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
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