give me a city to roam, and a hand to hold.
Beers, indie rock songs, cheap motels and rebellious decisions inside the back of a dark green Volkswagen: You have lived years of your life with high spirits and tears and broken memories. With the agony...
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I remember that this is what happiness felt like. Back to when I still was. The cheers. The loud whistles that were blown every now and then. The bright stadium lights, standing tall enough to outshine the stars on the darkness filled skies. And the two most important people in my life were watching me play on.
It wasn't like that anymore.
The grass waves like the people sitting in the bleachers, catching the light in a way that shows it isn't one green but many. The blades can be skinny or broad, but in this field they are packed so tightly I couldn't see the earth beneath with this spring that is so rich in rain.
Florida might have been known for being sunny and warm, but nights in February were cold and breezes that blew by always made me shiver. It carried the salty scent of the ocean from all around and I still wondered if there were any sand left in my Vans. But everyone who lived here knew that this state was so fucking bipolar with the hot, scorching sun on a day and hard rain the next hour that only and usually resulted in extremely cold mornings where a warm mug of coffee always seemed to save the day.
I could hear the heavy breathing coming from the players on the field, scanning the ball that would eventually end up with the other team's players. The score was currently 2-1; our team losing. But it didn't matter if it was a bad game or not, I could see the smile on everyone's faces even if they were frustrated or focused. The energy of the game drove them even harder, and I liked that. I liked every moment of it. I could feel a smirk creep up on my lips as I watch the Junior Varsity's game. I kept watch of #7, Sarah Suarez, a small, dark sophomore I was training for a little while before the accident. She and the yellow cards are no strangers, but overall she was good. She was good enough to be put in varsity. Maybe even replace me, if I couldn't do it anymore.
I zipped my soccer jacket, a jacket with a raven printed on the back, all the way up until my lips and chin were no where to be seen, underneath the collar. My legs were feeling heavy standing here for a whole forty five minutes, especially with a thick cast enveloping my left leg. I clenched the cold handles of my clutches resting just below my arms, paying no attention to my surroundings but the game in front of me.
"You seem focused on a game you never really cared about." A rough voice spoke, coming from my left.
Coach Swift, a short grey haired man with a maroon cap resting on his head. His beard had no care for the world, as if he wanted it to grow longer than Merlin's beard. I guess reading the whole Harry Potter series as a child really had an affect on me. And Coach knew everything about the sport as if he studied it. I guess that's his job, though.
"I don't. JV sucks," I say quickly, eyes darting to the bleachers, "I was about to leave anyway."
I tried to turn as quickly as these crutches could, before Coach could speak.
