Journal 6

Not a word of his was falling through my ears, I sat and listened but listening and understanding are two completely different things. Hot days beat us down on the field as we ruthlessly battled the heat by running more and more through the waves of its relentless fury. It was over ninety degrees every day that summer and it seemed as it was never going to cease. Whistles filled the air as the sounds of clashing shoulder pads and helmets overwhelmingly would come after as to cut the whistles sound drifting through the air. I awoke one day to find myself sore and very depressed. I run on the field just like any other day, the turf kicking up of the ground with every step. I took a breath in and feel the same warmth filling my lungs as I had always. There was something different about today though, why was it so different. The coaches finally signal for us to go to defensive team and I line up against two of the giants on the team. For some reason I could not control my legs and as I wanted to move forward to get through as i had been doing millions upon millions of times before that. My legs draw back as if they have a mind of their own and I feel two massive blows to my chest. I hit the ground and my body flies rapidly into the turf like a bullet. I quickly try to rise to my feet but I could not do it. As I rose I began to cough up blood but quickly wipe it away to convince myself that there is nothing wrong with me. I cannot let anyone know that I am hurt. The constant shouting from arguments that were conceived between my sister and mother and father all at once made me angry at the world. Walking with constant anger plastered to my face like I was made to look that way was all anyone could see. I ran up on the field ready for another practice but this time it was a game against helix. Not necessarily a game but more so a scrimmage, but I take it as a seriously as a game because Helix was one of the best teams in southern California. The light shining on my face as I run onto the field blinds me and gives me a headache so bad that it seems to feel as if someone was slowly engraving their initials into my head like they do to the desks at school. As soon as my eyes become adjusted it is just in time for kickoff and kickoff return, for which both I started. I look at the coaches faces with disgust as we begin discussing last minute about whether or not we are going to go full contact or not. The hatred inside me burned like a ball of fire and it reaches every end of my body. I want to hit, not to just tag. This sport stops me from going outside this school and doing things to humanity as a whole that nobody wants done to them because it allows me to release my anger. The decision became final. No hitting whatsoever. The game came to an end and I didn’t hit one single person. When we arrive home I begin walking up the stairs as soon as I could and went straight to my room and slam the door so hard that the air blew against my face so fast that my sweat flew onto my dresser, and it splatters with sweat that wreaked of failure to me. Practice on Monday feels just the same and nothing seems out of the ordinary to me except for maybe that I just start realizing that I could not read a single word on the board. I sit in Spanish class and the only thing I could understand is Spanish it self. I thought to myself, “ no puedo entender mi propio idioma”. I can’t understand my own language. I then see me parents as I receive a note from a TA telling me to go to the front office. I left to find my parents waiting for me to take me to the doctor. We slowly but surely make it to the hospital where the doctor spoke to me. Sitting there listening, but not understanding a thing he says. He finally asks me, “what’s your first name”. A grin stretches across my face for the first time in ages that it creates a pain that I found pleasurable to say the least, like going to the dentist and getting a lollipop afterwards. I immediately respond, “Brock” with a mixture of both eagerness and nervousness filling my body for the next question. But when he asks what my last name is, my brain draws a blank like everything had been lost in a blazing fire like those that burn down houses. After that not a word of his were falling through my ears, I say and listened but listening and understanding are two different things. I learned that sometimes in life things happen for a reason. I was so devoted to football that it was actually more bad than good. Sometimes in life you need to think for yourself before trying to please others because sometimes you know what’s best for yourself… not others. This experience has made me different today as I still take orders and complete them right away like in football but I still keep the betterment of myself in mind if it is questioned. Just like how Jeannette took orders from her father to do the whole pool scam with her father without her thinking about the situation and later falling under danger herself because of her trying to please her father I too did the same with my coaches.

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