Girls Can't Play Football

Chapter 26

~Thinking will not overcome fear, but action will.

W. Clement Stone.

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"No, no, no, no," I forced my eyes open as I shot out of bed, sweaty and distressed. My heart rate had elevated to the extent that it felt as though a drill had been driven through my chest. My stomach churned uncomfortably with the contents of my stomach making their way out at the horrifying graphics I'd had to endure. Wasting no time, I rushed to the bathroom and threw up.

Exhaustion took over me as I sat down on the floor of the bathroom with tears running down my face. The images were still roaming in my head and there was nothing I could do about it. . .I felt so helpless yet again.

"Get it out, get it out, get it out," I whined, holding my head and pulling on my hair stressfully in an attempt to get those ghastly images out of my head. "Please get it out. . ." I hiccupped as I struggled like a mad woman to think of something else. Anything else. Just something to distract myself.

I needed to get out.

The walls of my bathroom seemed to trap me in, engulfing me as a whole and draining me of the energy I'd managed to build up over the years. I quickly pushed against one of them in attempt to get myself up and stumbled as I tried to maintain a grip on my footing. Once I was up, I rushed to get my keys and my phone that was lying on the desk nearby and made my way out to the place I knew would help me as much as it could.

Not even caring about the security cameras lining up in the hall, I shut the door behind me and rushed out as fast as possible, in desperate need of any sort of comfort.

The only thing that could be heard far off in the distance were the sounds of panicked footsteps urgently trying to make it to their destination and the sound of subdued sniffles that were trying to come out in the open-- loud and clear-- but were pushed down to make sure no one would be disturbed, at least not as much as I was.

Because no one wanted to see anyone in pain. I didn't want to see anyone in pain. Then why was it always me? Why had I been suffering so much? Why did one silly mistake of my brother ruin several lives? Why couldn't I just. . . live?

The word sounded so unfamiliar. A language I didn't understand anymore. When did I last feel my heart really enjoying without the constant fear of having it demolished the next second?

I always wondered. . . what if I went home that day and really just found my brother. . .happy and alive? My life would've taken a complete 360 degrees from where it was now. I'd be in a different University-- one I'd been dreaming to be in since I was a kid. I'd have one of the happiest lives ever. I'd be with my brother. And I'd be playing football. Without fearing it.

Now it just seems like a childish dream a kid would have despite knowing it would never come true. Maybe I wasn't meant to be normal. Maybe I really had done something worthy of so much pain and self-hate.

But why wasn't I given a chance to redeem myself? Where was the second chance every other human being seemed to get?

Wasn't I also human?

And those were the only thoughts going in my head as I finally came into the abandoned spot I didn't visit for so long now.

And when I finally sat down on the cold floor that numbed me, I stared into the distance trying to figure out where I must've gone wrong in my life. Where I messed up so bad that I was being given a ruthless punishment.

But there was no one to give me my answer.

The frustration building up in me resulted in me finally letting it all out. I screamed my lungs out as I remembered some of the best moments in my life. The best moments with my brother. Just knowing that I wouldn't have them given back. That they had vanished into thin air and out of my reach.