Sitting on the sidelines, she was watching her team play the sport she loved. This was the hardest thing in the world. The whistle blew, indicating the start of the game. The girls ran, chasing the black and white ball while she was sitting on the sidelines.
***
Four months ago, the worst thing happened to her. She was playing soccer, like she always does. She was playing right mid, like she had so many times before. She passed to the defender, and then raced to get open. Somewhere, in the midst of the chaos, she had fallen. She disappeared into the crowd of people. Some swarmed the ball, others swarmed her. It was like an ant in the eye of a tornado, small and helpless, while the world spun around her.
***
The team had just scored a goal. She had to cheer, but all she wanted to do was to be out there celebrating. All she wanted was to get back out there and touch the ball to her feet again. She wanted to be able to swiftly transition her weight from the right side, to the left side. She wanted to play, but she couldn’t. All anyone told her was no. No was the word she heard most when sitting on the sidelines.
***
She was curled up into a ball. Whistles blew and people kneeled. Some had their hands over their mouths, but others just stood with shock. Her parents were running to her, and the coach kneeled beside her. She screamed in pain, but no sound came out. All she could do was lay on the ground and helplessly wait.
***
It was now halftime. The team surrounded her, chugging cold water. They were high-fiving and telling over-dramaticized stories regarding the game. They would glance at her sympathetically. She wanted to be treated normal, to be pushed, to be told she could do it, but no one did. When people did talk to her, they simply said, “Get better” and “Hope you can play again soon”. She wanted encouragement sitting on the sidelines.  
***
On the way to the hospital, she just stared up. She didn’t know what would happen. She was scared, terrified even. She thought about the pain, how much it hurt her. These thoughts almost consumed her, but not quite. In some small space somewhere in her thoughts, she thought about how she would ever get back to playing. She wanted to play, to get better, and get over this. Stuck in an uncomfortably stiff position, lying motionless on a stretcher, the paramedics rolled her in.
***
Her team raced back onto the field and took their positions. The whistle blew and once again, the game started. The black and white ball was once again put into play. Someone on the opposite team had stolen possession and carried it up the field. Her teammates scrambled, desperately jumping in front of the blonde girl with the ball, but had no success. The blonde girl put it into the net and then ran backwards to cheer. That used to be her, the unstoppable one with blonde hair slicked into a ponytail and blue eyes that sparkled when she had possession of the ball. She used to shine, but now she is dark and alone, sitting on the sidelines.
***
In a tiny room, she listened to doctors and her parents whisper in the corner. She assumed she was on the surgical floor, that those doctors were surgeons, and that she was getting surgery. The doctor talked to her, but she was only half listening. Some of the pain had gone away, so all she could think about was soccer. She agreed to do the surgery immediately because the doctors gave her hope. They said with the surgery she would make it and get better. They explained that she would go through intense physical therapy, but as long as she was motivated, she would make it back. This was the best news all day.
***
The subs had just gone in. The score was 3-2, her team was losing. They were starting to give up and no one was motivating them to win. She cheered loud, yelling encouraging words. She was trying to help them to the best of her ability. Being stuck in a chair didn’t make it easier, especially since she couldn’t even stand. She felt that she needed to do something. A rush of exhilaration pushed this crazy idea into her head while she was sitting on the sidelines.
***
The surgery was over, and she was lying in her room. Her whole body ached. Her hospital gown was loosely draped over her. She looked at the scar that permanently marked her injury. For the first time that day, her thoughts were positive. She made it through. She was on her way to a long recovery. She would have good days and bad days. She would feel great and feel horrible. She will be driven crazy by the restriction of the large cast and pain in her leg, but she will always be motivated to get back.
***
The game was over. They had lost, but her crazy idea was still implanted into her brain. Slowly she started to get up. Her leg got a shooting pain. She fell back down and looked around. The people around her were intensely focused on their own children, paying no attention to the cripple. The large cast around her leg made standing difficult, but she refused to believe in was impossible. She stood up again, and this time when the shooting pain came, she got over it. She moved one leg and then another, tightly grasping onto the chair, she walked. She walked when people told her she couldn’t, she walked. She made it. She realized that all her motivation got her here. She took one step and made it. There she was, standing on the sidelines.