satisfactory education. We had just enough food to eat and could listen to the croaking of the frogs outside our compact mobile home as the last light of the sun faded over the horizon. I have tortured myself trying to think of alternate situations where the accident on the soccer field did not happen---how I could have prevented my injury based upon the precise moment of the misstep I made. I should never have played soccer. I should never have been so careless. I should never have gotten surgery. But life does not have a rewind button. And when I tore my ACL, everything came crashing down. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- September 1, 2016, 3:00- 3:03 p.m. A barrage of tears pour from and a wail escapes her parted lips. Every Daisy’s waterline, student riding on our school bus immediately turns around and stares at her tortured face. Her eyes break my heart. All of the light and life has been drained from irises, leaving only a Daisy’s dull grey color. Because when home does not feel like home anymore, it becomes something else. Something insidious. silently begging for the school bus to break down as it slowly pulls up to our dilapidated I’m street. When it approaches our house, I reluctantly wave goodbye to my two best friends, Martha and Sarah. Daisy digs her jagged nails tightly into my palm. "C'mon Daisy, you can do this. One step at a time." "B-b-b-but Mama-" Her teeth are chattering.
satisfactory education. We had just enough food to eat and could listen to the croaking of the frogs outside our compact mobile home as the last light of the sun faded over the horizon. I have tortured myself trying to think of alternate situations where the accident on the soccer field did not happen---how I could have prevented my injury based upon the precise moment of the misstep I made. I should never have played soccer. I should never have been so careless. I should never have gotten surgery. But life does not have a rewind button. And when I tore my ACL, everything came crashing down. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- September 1, 2016, 3:00- 3:03 p.m. A barrage of tears pour from Daisy’s waterline, and a wail escapes her parted lips. Every student riding on our school bus immediately turns around and stares at her tortured face. Her eyes break my heart. All of the light and life has been drained from Daisy’s irises, leaving only a dull grey color. Because when home does not feel like home anymore, it becomes something else. Something insidious. I’m silently begging for the school bus to break down as it slowly pulls up to our dilapidated street. When it approaches our house, I reluctantly wave goodbye to my two best friends, Martha and Sarah. Daisy digs her jagged nails tightly into my palm. "C'mon Daisy, you can do this. One step at a time." "B-b-b-but Mama-" Her teeth are chattering.
FrontMatterandStoriesRevised.docx