My Motive for Volleyball

One beat at a time, feeling each drop of sweat going down my face and hitting the ground In position, ready to dig every ball that comes my way Pass. Set. Hit . And we win the game Making my way home, Passing down the East La streets Walking with tired feet and an empty stomach I receive a call from mom “ Mija vente derecho al parque”; daughter come straight to the park With no questions asked by the depressing tone of my mother's voice I hurried my way to the park Barely moving one leg at a time the first thing I see were tears falling down my mother's face and black trash bags full of clothes all over the place Already expecting what's next I close my eyes And let the breeze hit my face Accepting the fact that the leaves above my head Will now be the new roof to where I will stay At a young age School was the last place I desired to be New shoes. New clothes. New phones. Were everywhere and more Torn shoes. No phone. Old clothes. Everyday and no hope Communicating or Relating with one single student became unrealistic I was like a piece of clothing Floating around campus Feeling non existent Among others Waking up every morning Knowing that the only thing that kept me going Were the volleyball practices after school My therapy. My distraction. My relaxation. My escape. And the only place I wanted to stay One beat at a time, feeling each drop of sweat going down my face and hitting the ground In position, ready to dig every ball that comes my way Pass. Set. Hit. And we win the game It became my motive to become someone, Someone who will never gave up Someone who has viewed life with a different perspective Someone who's viewed the beauty of tragic and gained the fuel for success Someone who matured through a bad experience And now values the small things about life