Connecting Expressive Journals

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The icy wind lashes across my bare face. I still have a mile of walking to do and I haven't even reached the end of the driveway. I started to walk faster when my feet hit the asphalt road. By the time I got half way across the road I was moving in a speed at which I easily could have been confused for someone chasing a $20 in the wind. I tucked my head away from the violent wind and tried hard to think of warmer weather.

This is a daily thing during a school year. Every morning I wake up and walk to school. Every morning I reach the end of my driveway and force myself to dream about warmer weather. But every morning I dream about the same warm weather I experienced in Cancun 2 years earlier and in a penalty kick I took earlier that year.

Cancun was the best spring break of my life. All I did was sit on the beach. The last day I was there it changed from the best spring break to the most embarrassing spring break.

I sat silent on the beach, just looking and thinking. Looking at all of the beautiful ladies in bikinis and thinking about how I am going to get them over to me. The sun floated above the sand in late March sky. My bare back felt like it was melting under the hot sun like wax.

My silver Oakleys blocked the painfully bright reflections off of the sparkling water . I slowly scanned the beach for the perfect girl.

Then the priceless look of a man that just won a million dollars jumped across my face. It was most definitely love at first site. Being that I was tired I decided that I would not pursue her now but go to sleep instead.

A sudden splash of water against my ear drum awoke me violently.

I sat up to the sound of the oceans wave and peoples laughter. Water surrounded me on all sides. I had fallen a sleep and the tide had risen. I was in a frozen state of shock for a second. I glanced from laughing face to laughing face. With an exaggerated double take I stopped and saw the girl from before. She stood above me with her head cocked back towards the sky and her pointing finger 1 cm away from my face. The loud laughter rose from her lungs like smoke from a chimney.

I hung my head in embarrassment.

The nipping cold brought me back to reality. I was half way to school. My body had a pleasant warmth. All I need to do is think about one more warm weather story and I would be at school in no time.

Ironically, about this same time everyday on my walk to school I stop dreaming about Cancun and start dreaming about my soccer penalty kick.

The fear in the goalie's eyes beads down his face and rolls over the curve in his cheek bone. It reaches his chin and plummets to the white painted strip of grass below him. The fear leaks into the dry earth and diffuses amongst all of its surroundings. The sun stands above the field emitting rays of 96 degrees. Parents sit watching with squinted eyes, while coaches and players on each team are praying with folded hands. The whole time, I feel a positive outcome of his shot is inevitable. My cockiness blocks out the surrounding fear like a cross shown to the most evil demon. The only sound that can be heard is the slight rustling of fallen leaves, rolling across the penalty box like tumbleweed. A blow from the referee's whistle shatters the surrounding silence. "Keeper...ready?", the ref says to the goalie. The goalie turns to the ref and nods hesitantly. "Shooter...ready?", the ref says as he turns to look at me. "Yeah", I reply with a hint of cockiness. I turn and focus all of my attention on the goal, and the dead silence resumes. For a split second, the goalie and I meet eyes . The fear of not succeeding pounds the keeper's body violently with every heart beat.

I approach the ball in what appears to be slow motion, and cock my leg back for the shot. My leg comes down upon the ball with the power of a 100 men. The ball soars off the end of my foot towards the upper 90 of the goal. The goalie's body floats through the air. His outstretched arms reaching for the ball, but it just misses the tips of his gloved hands. The ball hits the back of the net. The force sends ripples through the mesh netting. The goalie's body pounds against the dry earth and kicks up a small cloud of dust. Half of the crowd jumps to their feet to cheer. The other half stays silent with blank stares of awe. I then turn to cheer with my team.

BANG ! A large screen of blue light fills my vision. A throbbing pain shoots up and down my right arm. I lay helplessly on the cold ground. Underneath me lay a mattress of ice. With the little energy I have left I turn my head to the side to see a large building I know as my school.