Until

Once I step out on that volleyball couurt, nothing else matters except to never let the ball touch the ground on my side. That's the only thing I can focus on. The coaches yell if I make a mistake, I can't let that happen. Every move counts. The game ends, we lost again.

Nothing else matters except figuring out what I did wrong until my best friend walks up and stops me. She stops me because she see's my blood soaked wrist tape. I brush it off and act like it was blood from my nose.

Until that day no one noticed. My plea for help worked at a time when nothing mattered, nothing was on my mind but what happened on the court.