"You can't compete in the next meet." This is what he started with, my coach. I guess I understand. He continued on explaining his apparently certain argument to me. All I see is his wrethced mouth slowly moving up and down with concern in his eyes, but my mind was imagining the dark future pathed out for me. 

All I see is me watching tearfully someone else being rewarded the title I want. The title I worked for. The title I have been dreaming about. Instead of hearing: "For 1st place and automatically going to CIF... Alexis." I will hear the depressing same announcement wfilled with another girl who probably never got injured, never missed a practice, and never felt my heartbreaking pain.

As I watch everyone perfectly take off that board like the way a bouncy ball bounces, I see. I see the day where my title slipped from me. The day my body couldn't take the pain anymore. It wasn't a bad injury, but it was sure one to have him say "I can't compete." And one to have me say goodbye to CIF.