Pounding. Screaming. Groaning.
I tried to fathom what had just happened. Everything was purple and black. The limited array of colors dappled across my vision as if someone had just taken a picture without the warning of a flash. I grabbed my left arm and tried to feel my side and regain consciousness. My left shoulder was numb and the pain shot down into my side like I had been stabbed.
I heard someone laughing, “Look at that white girl go!”
God. My body. My arm. My side. And the big, black bitch that chuckled in my ear. They were all annoying nuisances.
All I could remember was jumping into the air to claim my prize as it hit the Plexiglas above me. And then, Marmaduke Amazon girl landed her gigantic body on top of mine as if we were in a wrestling arena. And here she stood—mocking me, laughing at me, and making fun of me.
My teammate yelled, “God, please call 1-800-Jenny and get this bitch some help!” The crowd roared with shock and hysteria setting the mood for the rest of the game. Despite pain in my left arm, I kept playing, sweating, and sacrificing for my team. I went back up for a rebound and could only move my right arm because my left one was just hanging their limp, unattached from my body. I ran over to the sideline and gasped, “Coach! My arm hurts!”
The crowd behind the bench winced in pain as they saw my bone protruding out of my shoulder underneath my skin. The pregnant assistant coach shot up from her chair and ran to the bathroom with her hand over her mouth. My parents’ eyes were wide and I could hear my mother yelling non-sense towards me. My teammates whispered behind me as my body started swaying. I looked down and realized the same thing everyone had noticed. With the blink of an eye, and a glance at my shoulder, my lights went out.
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