The Guilt
After
we reflected on the game we had that day, we were dismissed from the meeting.
Most of the kids walked off together to hang out. Instead I dragged my legs to
the locker room alone. The door to the boys’ locker room seemed heavier than
usual, and a complete darkness welcomed me as I entered the small room. There
were soccer uniform thrown everywhere with our school names. It was a cool blue
sport t-shirt with “Lake Mary Prep” on the back. I picked one up. I stared at
it for a moment then put it back down. I walked over to my own grey colored
locker. There were stickers everywhere; one of them was the school mascot, the
Griffin. The blue eyes of the Griffin stared at me. I looked away, almost
instantly.
It was not my fault we lost the
game. My coach knew that. My teammates knew that. I knew that. But if I had not
gotten the red card in the second half, we held a very high chance of winning
the match. We could have held the golden
Champions Cup in our hands. But it could not be helped. That was the only way
we could have stopped that kid from scoring a goal. It was not my fault we lost
the game.
I sat down on the bench that was
closest to me. Something hit my leg. I crouch down to find a beaten up soccer
ball. I stared at it for a few minutes. The ball bore many scratches and lines
on its surface. It almost looked pathetic. I threw the ball into the basket and
turned back to my locker. I opened it and got my water bottle out.
Slowly I walked out of the school
entrance. It was raining and it seemed as if it was not going to be a light
shower. I didn’t hesitate to walk into the rain. The droplets hit my face. Then
it started soaking my clothes. I was really wet. But I did not run. Nothing
could be fixed.
I walked steadily back to my house as
the rain poured all over me. I met no one on the way back home, which was a
delight. Suddenly, I saw a glimpse of light at far. It shone like a star on a
dark, black night. I sped up my pace, but not too fast so that the puddles
didn’t splash on my legs. As I closed up, I discovered that the source of the
bright light was from my house. I felt more drops on my face the closer I got
to the door. By the time I had put my hand on the door knob, I was soaked head
to toe.
Maho,
ReplyDeleteYour story definitely makes sense even though it is fairly short. I'd like to see you push to add more imagery--consider showing more of what these moments feel like for the main character, rather than just telling us how he feels. You could add more sensory details--or consider a symbolic object which recurs in the story.