For English class, we did a bunch of different exercises to develop characters and story telling. This included filling out a whole survey and paragraph about the character we see from a set of pictures, as well as coming up with a dialogue between two people from a set of pictures we got to choose from, and finally a survey on a combination between ourselves, our character, and someone we know well. I believe my character came from the exact character I came up with from the first exercise with a few adjustments such as changing my character from a boy into a girl. This character is combined by a bunch of little aspects of people I know including myself. With this character, we had to write a three page paper of the character in a difficult situation for themselves taking place in one location in a one hour area time frame. This was not my best piece of writing, and it could be edited, but this is what was turned in as my final draft as Loss for Self, I hope you enjoy.

 

 

The game had just started: it was early in the morning and deep into the winter so the field was still a little frozen over, and it was dark outside. It was not pitch dark, but dark enough so that the colors of the jerseys between the two teams were barely differentiated, the ball was impossible to identify as it glided down her side of the field, and Kirssy, who feared the dark, was not at ease.

 

Directly after being told that her all-time favorite breakfast of champions was set on the table, Krissy discovered she had forgotten about her early morning game.

 

It was her thirteenth birthday, marking her sixth consecutive year without a father in the house: or one she had seen or talked to. He had left the night before her seventh birthday, and the only way her family knew he was still alive was by receiving a letter on Krissy's tenth birthday to say "happy birthday, congratulations on the double digits." Yeah right, what did would seriously still congratulate you for your birthday and do nothing in his power to try to be with you on it? A shitty one.

 

This morning she forced herself out of bed, past the few of many photographs hanging in her room that actually included herself as a small child, with her father, or the family as a whole. she chocked down tears as she approached the bathroom for the ordinary, daily routine.

 

"Happy birthday sweetheart, aww you're finally up! We made pancakes for you, honey oatmeal, your favorite! But eat fast! You've got a game to leave to in a few minutes!" screeched her mom, running up to give her a hug as she finally left her shelter of a navy blue room.

 

Krissy's mom, Linda, was not normally the excited and happy type, almost completely the opposite, but she was obviously trying her best to make this a better day. What a joke. Krissy crinkled up her nose in detest of this exuberance as she hugged her mom. Then it clicked. A game. Krissy always won. She needed to. But Krissy was always prepared and knew about her games. It meant getting up early to eat, stretch, go on a quick run, put on her jersey and outfit precisely, clean off her shoes, the list goes on and on, and during all this she would pump herself up in her mind to win. today, for the first time, there would not be time for this.

 

The night before her seventh birthday, Krissy tried to stay up as late as she possibly could to watch movies and television all by herself, but fell asleep quite early, on the couch, with the movie still running. She woke up the next morning to a missing father, and a living room full of balloons in her favorite colors: dozens of different shades of blue, he had left for her.

 

Somewhere, deep inside somewhere, Krissy believed if she had been able to stay up the whole time, he wouldn't be gone. She missed him, she needed him, she wondered why he left, and she wondered if he even still cared. Yet, along with almost anything she felt shamed or weakened herself, she would never admit this to anyone.

 

Krissy sprinted to the kitchen and grabbed two warm pancakes and shoved them in her mouth. That was another thing Krissy hated: eating fast. That's unhealthy, especially eating before a game like that, but today there was no other choice. Krissy had to stop being such a health freak for a moment in order to have enough calories to even be out on the field. At the table her older brother looked up at her in awe as he watched her gobble down the two pancakes in a heartbeat.

 

Once able to get words out, her brother said, "well happy birthday kiddo, good luck at your game, I'm ganna come watch as soon as I'm ready to go. You'll do great. And we're ganna celebrate later."

 

"I don't need luck, see you later," Krissy said as well-mannered as possible through a full mouth and gritted teeth.

 

The opposing girls were fierce and unstoppable, the top team in her league and it was bizarre for Krissy to be feeling like she was playing a team full of her evil twins out on the field, especially when she herself was so out of her normal day comfort zone, but no one had to know that.

 

Krissy ran to her room as she continued to chew and grabbed her clothes then sprinted to the car. "Mom, let's gooooo! she protested.

 

As her mom ran to get the car started, Krissy started changing into her clothes, and was completely dressed by the time their three minute car ride to the field was up. She ran up to her clump of a team as fast as possible and made it just in time to hear the positions announced by her coach. She was then congratulated on her birthday by the team, told by her coach he was happy she made it, and that she'd be playing center midfield, the usual. The whistle blew and the game was on.

 

So Krissy pushed herself into the game, more than ever before. She wanted a goal or two before the first quarter was over to be ahead in the score. As the ball flew towards her, Krissy gained control and pushed it down the field, past at least six different girls, all much taller than her, heedlessly pushing up against her. But, Krissy was fierce and increasingly determined. She broke free and sprinted down the field in full force.

 

Right as she was about to make her score, she threw out her big kick, but was knocked down by their strongest team player, and the ball she had tried so hard to kick accurately was easily caught by their goalie. And, her whole body was in pain from the force of being pushed down onto the ground. That's a foul! She slowly got up as soon as she got the energy and breath back into herself to see that the referee was right up next to her alongside her coach looking down at her with sympathetic eyes. She just got up, and as the parents and spectators cheered her for her great sportsmanship and strength, Krissy glared at the girl and walked up to give her an immense shove and started screaming. It was too much, all of it. Even at the seven in the morning. She got in three or four more hits-it was hard to count-before the referee handed her a red card. Meanwhile, her coach was trying his best to tug the mess of a girl off the playing field while all she was interested in doing was pounding the shit out of the grass. She finally made it off the field to face a mob full of angry and disappointed teammates, parents, witnesses, and her mom.

 

While this whole commotion occurred, Krissy did not know that the one person who she believed would make it all better if she saw again was swiftly leaving the field. Her father could not bear to see his own daughter act out in such an immature and embarrassing way, yet it is his decisions that caused all of it to explode.