Eastside Basketball. It's our last game of the year. Practice, as I toss the ball into the ring the buzzer goes off. We sit in our seats and listen to the announcer. Waiting for our name.
"Ezra Collior Number 4!" The announcer yelled into the mic as I ran up between the cheerleaders arms like we did every game. The pompoms brush against my hair which I've left out and cut.
"Cole Felni Number 31!" The announcer continued to go down the list as I stood in my spot. Waiting and waiting for what seemed like hours. They call me first in alphabetical order. As the game started I started seated before having to run up. Ignoring everything around me as I just played the game.
One point, Two points, seven points. We were winning. I got to stay up as the other team switched. I was about to shoot as the air in my lungs just left and I fell to the ground. I looked up catching my breath. A member of the other team much larger than me had slammed into my back. I looked around as the crowd built. I struggled getting up, looking for my own hands to touch the ground, They were.
I can feel the ground. I can feel the air, but why can't I move? Why does my arm hurt so much? Who's picking me up? Wait, I'm being lifted. What is going on?
Those were my last thoughts before I fell unconscious. Pitch black darkness enveloped my vision and my mind.