I don’t exactly have anything against school, as many do, but I have the whole world against Track. And Father won’t let me out of it. I also have to do basketball, which we had tryouts for today. All of the girls there were like big hulking masses, each at least a foot taller. They must have been 30 pounds heavier, with pure muscle of course.
I had only completed one lap, and already my chest tightened up and my throat started swelling closed. Everything in me screamed for mercy. “Stop Katrina! Stop! You are killing me!” My legs buckled, and some tall girl will flowing blonde hair tripped on my outstretched foot. She screamed, I choked, eventually a couple of other young ladies stopped. Another girl fell because she ran into the hurdle, not seeing it because she was staring at us. So essentially, there was a pile of people, and a crowd huddled around them, standing in the middle of the track. Mrs. Poleby, the coach, who just happens to have the most absurd name I’ve ever heard, heaved her bulk over and shoved through to get to us, as it seemed we were the center of attention. She just stood there, chewing her wad of blue gum, while my puny self lay under two bodies twice my size. She didn’t even notice my suffering. I wanted to yell at her to get the weight off my back, but my throat was still tight and constricted. She just stared at us. Tears were streaming down my bloated cheeks.
“Get them blasted off of me!” I thought, but couldn’t even squeak. Then the girl with the flowing blonde hair….ever so slowly….started to hoist her self up off me. Mrs. Poleby only stared at me. Her gaze was like a blazing hot laser that ripped through my heart. I sucked in air gratefully as my neck and chest started to relax. I lay sprawled in the dirt…everyone’s eyes wouldn’t let go of me. I shut my own, praying it would all just vanish. In those brief seconds, I traveled somewhere else, to the beach. I imagined the refreshing waves hugging my legs, and the yellow sun hanging peacefully in the sky. Then Mrs. Poleby shouted “Don’t go fallin’ asleep on me, you’ve got three more laps to go little missy.” She said it in the flattest, most unenergetic tone. The only sound was her chomping on that pour battered little chunk of gum. Then the girls finally started running, Mrs. Poleby walked away to the sidelines again, and I just lay their. The blood flowed to my entire body again. I didn’t want to get up.
The results haven’t been posted yet, but I believe it’s safe to say that I failed the team. And I don’t care. Father will be cross, but there’s nothing I could’ve done. I’m not built for sports. My lungs start screaming whenever I do even the slightest of running, jumping or activity. Maybe Father can ask the doctor about it, because I’m having a ‘marvelous’ check-up in two days. My, won’t it be exciting.
My body is dying, just crying inside
I’m weak, just so weary, nowhere to confide
I never thought I was the best of them all
But to fall into last, that is my call
I had only completed one lap, and already my chest tightened up and my throat started swelling closed. Everything in me screamed for mercy. “Stop Katrina! Stop! You are killing me!” My legs buckled, and some tall girl will flowing blonde hair tripped on my outstretched foot. She screamed, I choked, eventually a couple of other young ladies stopped. Another girl fell because she ran into the hurdle, not seeing it because she was staring at us. So essentially, there was a pile of people, and a crowd huddled around them, standing in the middle of the track. Mrs. Poleby, the coach, who just happens to have the most absurd name I’ve ever heard, heaved her bulk over and shoved through to get to us, as it seemed we were the center of attention. She just stood there, chewing her wad of blue gum, while my puny self lay under two bodies twice my size. She didn’t even notice my suffering. I wanted to yell at her to get the weight off my back, but my throat was still tight and constricted. She just stared at us. Tears were streaming down my bloated cheeks.
“Get them blasted off of me!” I thought, but couldn’t even squeak. Then the girl with the flowing blonde hair….ever so slowly….started to hoist her self up off me. Mrs. Poleby only stared at me. Her gaze was like a blazing hot laser that ripped through my heart. I sucked in air gratefully as my neck and chest started to relax. I lay sprawled in the dirt…everyone’s eyes wouldn’t let go of me. I shut my own, praying it would all just vanish. In those brief seconds, I traveled somewhere else, to the beach. I imagined the refreshing waves hugging my legs, and the yellow sun hanging peacefully in the sky. Then Mrs. Poleby shouted “Don’t go fallin’ asleep on me, you’ve got three more laps to go little missy.” She said it in the flattest, most unenergetic tone. The only sound was her chomping on that pour battered little chunk of gum. Then the girls finally started running, Mrs. Poleby walked away to the sidelines again, and I just lay their. The blood flowed to my entire body again. I didn’t want to get up.
The results haven’t been posted yet, but I believe it’s safe to say that I failed the team. And I don’t care. Father will be cross, but there’s nothing I could’ve done. I’m not built for sports. My lungs start screaming whenever I do even the slightest of running, jumping or activity. Maybe Father can ask the doctor about it, because I’m having a ‘marvelous’ check-up in two days. My, won’t it be exciting.
My body is dying, just crying inside
I’m weak, just so weary, nowhere to confide
I never thought I was the best of them all
But to fall into last, that is my call
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