It was the seventh grade when I decided to tryout for he volleyball team. My friend Amaiya screamed out “Stephanie!” I turned around and the ball knocked my head to a 90-degree angle. How hard I was hit for my head to be parallel to my ear like I’m on the phone. I thought I was going to be watching TV sideways for the rest of my life. With God’s miracle I made the team. Before our first game we had our jerseys on, taking pictures on our cellphones in the locker room. I’ve never felt so cool in my life, unfortunately that took a turn for the worst. The 80-year-old man produced this sorry sound of a whistle from whatever is left of his respiratory system, and smack goes the volleyball. Of course it is coming towards me with everyone and their mother watching. I was dismantled like a Lego. It hit my 7-year-old boy chest so hard, ricocheting and hit my girl Amaiya in the head. (Good ex. of “what comes around goes around.?”) Immediately afterwards I see signs floating all across the bleachers “#17 YOU SUCK.” I turned to my teammates and I see the Devil rising in their eyes. Amaiya says, “You’ll get the next one.” All of a sudden I hear snapping turtles everywhere, “What the heck was that?” “What’s wrong with you?” “Where’s your brain?” “Do you even go here?” Within seconds I was drowning in tears. Coach said, “Suck it up.” Suck what up? The river of snot and tears flooding the court? The game has haunted me for the rest of my life. Word choice can make or break any situation.