Page 21 of Imperfection is Beauty

I was out of my seat, throwing my popcorn at the screen.

“What the fuck! You stupid piece of human trash.” I screamed at the television.

“Where the hell had that bastard come from?” I asked as I watched the camera pan from what I had just seen to the ball where it was down.

And then they went back to Marcus who was lying on the ground still. He wasn’t moving.

What had I just seen? Some asshole had targeted him. Sacked him by dropping his helmet and then hitting him with his shoulder, fucking hard.

I rewound to who the player was and noted his name. I was prepared to blast his name all over social media. What a fucking wanker.

Then I fast-forwarded it and locked my eyes on Marcus and the coach, players, and med team that stood around him.

And when I saw him get up and walk to the sidelines, a massive breath was expelled out of my lungs.

“Thank Christ.”

Chapter 5

Divine Intervention

Marcus

If you ever question whether fate always has her hands in your story or not, don’t.

Because she definitely does.

After I got hit yesterday, I thought I was fine.

I got up, walked off the field, and got checked out.

I was fine.

However, when I woke up that morning with a blinding pain in my chest, I knew I had fucked up.

I called for Tonya.

No answer.

I bellowed her name again as loud as I could, wincing at the pain in my chest.

Still, no answer.

I knew the pain I was in; it was bad.

There was no way I would be able to drive my ass to the hospital.

Therefore, I called 911 and waited.

I knew my mother would get called since she was my emergency contact; therefore, due to the pain I was in, I didn’t worry about calling anyone else.

The medics got to me just in time for my lung to fully collapse.

Eight Hours Later

They say that when you are recovering after surgery, you can still hear things that are going on around you.

And guess what, you really can. That’s only if you are about to wake up.

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