On the hospital bed, Benjamin lay still and gazing at the ceiling. The only constants in the blur that had been his life for the last three days were the sterile white walls and the steady beep of the machines surrounding him.
The sounds of his sister's laughter and his parents' voices... They were all gone.
The persistent discomfort in his left leg was a cruel reminder of the broken existence he now had. It pulsed with every heartbeat, making him flinch.
His thoughts kept returning to the scene of the crash and the ensuing silence, which engulfed everything he held dear, was still audible to him.
Benjamin was startled out of his reverie by the creaking sound of the door. Coach Jansen walked in. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over him as he saw the coach.
The coach, a man of few words but strong actions, had always been a steady presence. Despite the fact that his age was beginning to show in the creases of his face and the slight stoop in his posture, he still exuded a dominating presence off the field.
He appeared older than Benjamin remembered due to his graying hair and significant forehead creases, but his intense, perceptive blue eyes remained the same.
Coach Jansen came closer to the bed and said, "Benjamin," in a stern but low voice. His Dutch accent curled over the syllables as he nodded. "I'm happy to see you're awake."
Benjamin swallowed the lump in his throat and turned away. He didn't feel glad to be awake.
Coach Jansen sat down after pulling out a chair by the bed. For a minute, neither of them said anything as his gaze remained fixed on Benjamin's cast leg.
It was a long, heavy, and uncomfortable silence before Coach eventually broke it.
With a soft yet inquisitive tone, he queried, "How are you feeling?"
Benjamin's lips was dry as he gazed at the ceiling. How did he feel? The word "broken" didn't seem strong enough. Empty. Lost. The words stopped in his throat even though he wanted to express all of it.
All he could manage to croak out was, "My leg."
Coach Jansen put his hands together and leaned forward. "Your leg, indeed. I had a conversation with the doctor."
Benjamin's heart sank. He had spent the last few days ignoring the doctor's ramblings and didn't want to hear it. He wasn't prepared for what was about to happen, but it couldn't be avoided.
"The injury..." Coach Jansen paused, then let out a sigh. "Benjamin, you have a tibial plateau fracture. Although it's not the worst-case scenario, it's still a significant situation."
The unknown phrases caused Benjamin's stomach to turn. Tibial plateau fracture. He knew it couldn't be good, but he didn't know what that meant.
As thoug he could sense Benjamin's perplexity, Coach Jansen said, "The tibia is the main bone in your lower leg." The shattered portion is at the top, where it joins your knee. If surgery is not required, it will take months to recover, and then there will be rehabilitation. A great deal of rehabilitation"
Benjamin's thoughts froze. Months? Surgery? Rehabilitation? The coach's words began to weigh heavily on him, causing his entire body to go numb.
"And...will I be able to play still?" He wasn't even aware he had asked the question. He detested how weak he sounded, and his voice wavered. How hopeless.
Coach Jansen didn't answer right away. Instead, with his brow furrowed in thought, he crossed his arms and sat back in the chair.
His voice was calm and measured when he finally spoke. "Benjamin, it's too soon to tell. The doctors will give it their all, and if you work hard, you might be able to return to the field in the future. However," He paused and fixed his eyes on Benjamin's. "The journey ahead will be a long road. You have time, and you're young. However, it won't be simple."
Benjamin gazed down at his leg's thick layer of white cast. It had the feel of a prison.
Everything he had worked for and everything his parents had given up seemed to be slipping away from him, including his aspirations of becoming a football legend.
His claws dug into his palms as he clenched his fists. "A long road," he said muttered bitterly. Everyone kept telling him that. He had had enough of hearing it.
For a minute, Coach Jansen sat quietly, observing him closely. Then he sighed and continued. "Benjamin, you've always been a fighter. On the field, I've witnessed you overcome challenges that youngsters your age would have crumbled upon. This injury presents still another challenge. A big one. However, I am confident that you possess the ability to overcome it."
Benjamin wanted to believe him, he wanted to think that he could overcome this and return to the game in some way.
But after having his entire world ripped apart, how could he concentrate on football? He had lost his family and he had a broken leg. Every thing was lost.
He tried to shut out the overwhelming weight of it all by closing his eyes.
"I'm not sure how to handle this," Benjamin said. "Everything is gone. I'm not even sure if I'll be able to walk or play football again."
For a brief moment, Coach Jansen's expression softened and he began to look more like a father figure rather than a coach. "I am sorry Benjamin. I can't imagine what you're going through right now. Losing family is a painful experience that doesn't go away quickly. You're not alone, though. We will get through this. One step at a time."
Blinking away the tears that threatened to spill, Benjamin opened his eyes. 'We will get through this.' However, it didn't feel like "we."
It felt like he had to go through it alone. The experience of having everything torn away twice was unlike anything else.
"Have you got any other relatives in the Netherlands?" With a soft yet inquisitive tone, Coach Jansen asked.
Benjamin gently shook his head. "No. Nigeria is where my parents were from. This is where my sister and I were conceived. There is no one else that I know. There are no cousins, aunts, or uncles here.
With an unreadable expression, the coach nodded. "I understand."
It was an additional layer of isolation. No family support. Football was all he had, and now, even that was hanging by a thread.
"Now what will happen to me?" Benjamin's question was hardly audible above a whisper. His inquiry wasn't limited to his leg. He had all sorts of questions. His future and his life from now on.
Coach Jansen was thinking deeply as he stroked his chin. "You start by concentrating on healing. both mentally and physically. To find out how we can support you, I'll speak with the other coaches and the academy. We'll help you get through this, but it will take time."
That was what Benjamin wanted to think, but a dark voice in the back of his mind kept whispering to him that it was pointless. He had lost his family. He had a broken leg. That crash felt like it had wrecked his entire life, his future.
Benjamin said, his voice trembling under the weight of his uncertainty and worry, "I don't know if I can do it."
Coach Jansen extended his arm and patted Benjamin's shoulder gently but firmly. "Yes, Benjamin, you can. You can, I'm sure. You underestimate how strong you are. However, you don't have to work alone."
Coach Jansen's eyes were full of understanding as he gave Benjamin one more glance before getting up to leave. "I'll check on you frequently to see how you are doing. And we'll start planning how to get you back on your feet when you're ready."
Benjamin remained silent and continued to stare at the ceiling. His mind replayed the coach's words, but they sounded far away, like rain tapping on a window.
He was too exhausted to give a damn. Too exhausted to fight.
Benjamin was once again left alone with his thoughts, and the emptiness of the room when Coach Jansen shut the door behind him.