The Hit

The tournament that changed everything

I’m excited but aggressive. Bent down and swaying left to right. The crowd roars wildly. I stare closely at my opponent, the fire in her eyes. Her clenched fist. She licks her lips. The net looks like spiders silk. The adrenaline is going through my body. The smell of my sweat stinks. All of a sudden she lifts her racket. The ball’s in the air. She swings. Bruhh. I taste fear. My heart races at the speed of light. I’m anxious. Nervous.

The ball flies towards me. Feeling aggressive. Nervous. The crowd goes wild. My eyes are wide. The ball grows bigger and bigger as it comes towards me. Sticky, salty, sweat in my mouth. My muscles tense. scrunching my face. I lift my arm and swing. I hit the ball, thump. As the small green bullet speeds, spins away. Feeling powerful.

The ball smacks her in the face. The rough green sphere pushes her nose back like a pig. I’m amused. I feel confident. Her head flips. The crowd goes ‘Ohhew’. She splashes to the ground. There is blood all over her face. She has missing teeth. Now I’m nervous. I smell fear. The crowd gasps. Peeking up to the sky wishing god won’t punish me. She is crying on the ground in a ball. I feel guilty. I feel like a bully.

By Waiora

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