The Divot

I was sitting by the fire, toasting marshmallows for my s’mores, when someone noticed the scar on my right shin. “Damn bro how’d you get that”

I looked down at my scar and started to reminisce.

“Well it started how most injury stories start,” I began to say, “I was in elementary school acting like an idiot…”

My friend Mason and I were outside of his house, playing with the rope swing in his front yard. We had created a what we thought was a flawless system to get the highest possible swing; we got a running start, swung on top of the bird bath, then jumped off of it as high as we could. It was going great for a while, until it started to rain. Mason went inside to grab a jacket and I stayed outside to continue what felt like flying at that age. I got ready to do what I’d just done successfully plenty of times, and start to run up towards the bird bath. Unfortunately, I did not take into account the rain creating mud. I slipped on my way to the bird bath and swung straight into it, by leg banging against the side with a lot of force. I got up, feeling nothing but relative numbness in my leg, and looked down. My eyes were greeted by the sight of my bone, white as day, exposed by the massive hole in my shin.

I start to walk back into the house, my leg beginning to fill with blood, when I saw Mason on the porch. I said the only thing to him I could think to say in that moment, “Hey Mason, can I have a band-aid?” He said sure and yelled at his mom too get me a band-aid. She responded saying she’d be out with one when she finished up making lunch. This was when Mason finally noticed that there was a gaping, bleeding hold in my leg. “Hey mom, Fisher REALLY needs a band-aid!”

Mason’s mom rushed outside and sat me down as soon as she saw what had happened. At this point I was still in shock and acting incredibly calm about the whole situation. Mason’s mom got ahold of my mom on the phone, who had just been by to check up on me an hour earlier, and started explaining the situation.

“Kelly, I think you need to get back here ASAP. Your son has a hole in his leg. Actually, that doesn’t describe it well enough. It’s bigger than a hole, your son managed to create a divot in his leg.”

Mason’s mom continued to talk to my mom for a second, then hung up and let me know that my parents were on their way. I waited patiently on the porch, still not feeling even the slightest discomfort, while Mason’s mom scrambled to try to stop the bleeding. My parents finally got there and and loaded me into the car as carefully as they could, trying not to spill what could only be described as a bowl full of blood in the middle of my leg.

We finally made it to the doctor’s office where I got my leg stitched up, and soon I no longer had the luxury of feeling no pain. The doctor needed to numb the wound before she stitched it, and the feeling of the needle repeatedly going inside the hole in my leg was one of the most painful experiences I have ever had. Soon after though, it was all numbed up and 27 stitches later (15 inside my leg and 12 closing the outside), I was all ready to go.

“And that is the story of how I got this scar on my leg.” I said as I finished up my story. After some arguing over whether or not I actually asked for a band-aid when I saw my bone, the conversation soon switched the the next brutal injury story, and I went back to toasting marshmallows.

King of the Ocean

King of the Ocean

 

Powerful and strong

The waves crash against the shore

Like an angry king

Summer

Summer

 

The last day of school is always so great

Looking forward to all the adventures ahead

So much free time to do whatever you want

And lots of time to sleep in your own bed

 

Nothing tops the summer

Swimming in the nice cool lake

When summer ends it’s always a bummer

No one wants to go back to school for heaven’s sake

 

During summer every day is something new

You can hike a mountain or go to the river so blue

Having fun with friends whenever you want

And eating at your favorite restaurants

 

Nothing tops the summer

Swimming in the nice cool lake

When summer ends it’s always a bummer

No one wants to go back to school for heaven’s sake

Summer was fun but now it’s come to an end

Time to start school and buy pencils and pens

Sitting in class having no fun

Already thinking about next year’s sun

 

Poetry

Poetry

 

Poetry is great

Helps express my emotion

In a peaceful way

It can rhyme and be funny

Or be deep and beautiful

Princess Volkonskaya Love Poem

Princess Volkonskaya Love Poem

 

Dear Zinaida, I know we’ve never met but I’d love to chat sometime.

I see you’re an opera singer, and I love Opera.

I’m very impressed that you stuck with your religion and moved away from home,

Shows that you are very strong willed, and I like that too.

Very generous of you to give that old street women your coat,

Even if it caused you to get sick.

I know you’re still married to Prince Nikita or whatever his name is,

But if I’m ever in Rome, I’d love to give you a call

 

The Story of Steve

The Story of Steve

 

Steve loves to sleep

So at night be counts sheep

But today he had a fuss

Because he slept in and missed his bus

He ran after it, fast as he could

But the bus kept going, as it should

So now Steve can’t go to school

But he says to himself, “I guess a day off is cool”

 

Anger

Anger

 

Anger is fierce and irrational

He punches a wall when he can’t find a remote

And honks when he gets cut off in traffic

The smallest things set him off

Like a volcano ready to erupt

But when you really get him going

He becomes rage

You don’t want to meet rage

The Final Showdown

I popped in my headphones and tuned the world out. Music helps me get in the right mindset for the game. I sat in the back of locker room getting the feel of the slightly worn leather ball I had in my hands, becoming one with it, with Nas in my ears. This was my pre game ritual. I had been doing it before every single game since sixth grade. This was no ordinary game though. We had just arrived in Portland for the state championship game and we were playing against TJ Cartwright, my arch rival for as long as I can remember. This was the biggest game of my life. I begin to lace up my custom LeBron’s, a gift from my father, while still nodding my head to “Doo Rags”.

I look up from my shoes and see Scottie’s 6’10 280 lb frame towering over me. He’s the second best player on our team, and my best friend since preschool. “You ready for this bro?” he asks as he snatches the ball from my hands.

I stand up and take the ball back from him. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Just stay in the paint and clean up the glass on my few misses and we’ll have this game on lock,” I said jokingly to lighten the tension of the moment. Scottie shook his head and smiled as we rejoined the team to walk out onto the court for the final time of our highschool careers.

As I entered the gym, I looked around at all the fans in the stands. I could see their expressions, either screaming in anger or encouragement, though I couldn’t hear them. I was already in my zone. I walked over the middle of the court, tucking in my jersey, ready for the game. I stand next to TJ while the ref is getting ready to tip off, and he starts talking trash right off the bat. I laugh it off then proceed to snag the ball out of his hands right when the ball is tipped, and proceeded to stare him down with the most intimidating look I could muster. When he looked back I saw fear in his eyes for the first time, and it gave me all the motivation I could possibly need to crush him.

I dribble the ball up the court and call the iso against TJ first play as a power move and to see how the shot was feeling. I quickly drive left then step back after a crossover and TJ fell to the floor like a jenga tower. I shoot the ball then proceed to stare at him on the ground while the ball swished in the hoop for the first points of the game. It was over before it even started.

The next 30 minutes resulted in an absolute beatdown. All our shots were falling and we were absolutely flustering them on the defensive end. TJ, who averaged 25 points in the regular season, finished with 7 shooting just 2-14 from the field. On the other end, I finished with 35 and my boy Scottie bodied everyone down low and finished with 20 and 15.

While we were all celebrating the big win, I look over the the other end of the court and notice TJ sitting down on the verge of tears. I had been there too many times so I know what he is feeling. I leave my teammates and walk over to him. I reach out my hand to help him up. “You had a great season bro. Next year is your year, you’re up next, ” I say as I dap him up. He nods his head in appreciation and starts walking back to the locker room. As much as I hated him for all these years, I realize that he’s just like me, working every day towards the same goals, and I might have been too hard on him for all this time. Right now though, it was my time to celebrate.

I run back over to my team, jumping up and down on the court, feeding off of the energy from the crowd. Scottie grabs me from behind and hoists me up, the crowd beginning to chant my name. Everything I had worked towards for the last four years has finally been accomplished, and now I can spend the rest of my time in highschool deciding on a college and continuing to work hard every day towards my future goals without always having to wonder, “what if”.