A Pucked Heart

Chapter 1: An Angel

I should've been happier. We had just scored a goal, the puck was shot gliding through the ice into the net. I should've been happier. But I couldn't. I was melting in my gear, my head was spinning and the pain that came with it was unbearable.

The defensive lineman, now sitting out at the bench on the other side of the box, was evilly grinning at me. He had this snarl on his face, he knew I was in pain and he was relishing off the fact. He had struck me where it hurts, even where it stings.

But after the dirty hit the asshole gave me, the medical team rushed to me. I told them I was fine, I even repeated I was fine. Even though I could feel the sting becoming unbearable. The game was the most important part of my life... maybe the only good thing in my life. It was the one thing I had to make people proud of me, and I wasn't going to let it be taken from me.

Coach Becker had been waiting for this moment, our team had been waiting for this moment. It was happening, injured or not. We were going to win this.

And then as the puck soared to the other side, my stick grasped it and I shot it to Liam, my winger. We had each other's backs, my job was to defend him. His goal was to get the puck in the net. I passed the puck to him just as a winger slammed into me. The pain got extreme as I hunched over, but the cheers from the crowd insinuated I couldn't give up now. We were winning. Winning as boldly as we could.

Winning like never before. And it felt good. Like a good kind of pain. Like everything in the end was worth all the pain. It was all worth that peace when you're crowded in the middle, feeling the roar of the crowd lift you up from your seats. That's the best feeling in the world. Well it's all good until I feel it. I was out. Cold out. Just as I heard the whistle blow and I felt my head pound. The medical team came over to me, locked in with Liam.

"We gotta get him to the hospital". The medic told Coach as he looked at me perplexed. He wanted my go ahead, my answer to what would happen the rest of the game. I was sane. Sane enough to know the worried freshman on the bench couldn't take my spot tonight and bring us a trophy home. I had all the faith in the world in my teammates but the rookie was shaking and quivering, I would ease him, not thrust him into the game.

"I'm fine". I growled loudly as Coach Becker shook his head. I wasn't going back in. The crowd booed at Coach's shake. The crowd knew, a win wouldn't be in our favor tonight if their star defensive player was gone.

"Coach... let me back in". I pleaded, but he shook his head. Almost like he was unable to even hear me out. But I knew what was keeping him glued to the ice and away from me. It was an old ticker. Old meaning it was aging away, if I could buy a new heart I would. But supposedly that's not how it works.

I had a congenital heart defect growing up and surprisingly it's still here. Twenty years later. Which means Coach B doesn't mess around with my injuries, he'd rather me miss the whole game then risk my heart. It seemed sweet in all its fairness, but this was my life, I would rather my heart stop ticking on the ice than anywhere else.

But he had to have known I was fine. I was speaking to my doctor weekly about symptoms I hadn't even experienced yet. My condition was slowly becoming something that was coming to control, but then it wasn't. Or that's at least what I knew about it.

"I'm fine... I promise". I said, doing that strategy my sister Lola uses, she stares into my eyes and makes me trust her for some unknown reason.

"You're going to the hospital. End of discussion". He said, blowing his whistle as the crowd groaned in misery. They all sat back in their seats as I walked off the ice. Dissatisfied fans were never a good look in this stadium.

"Coach... let me back in the game. We're winning... at best there's ten minutes left". I tried to reason with him, feeling the pressure of the entire stadium staring at me. I never used to let it get to me, even when I disappointed them.