By Sienna Zerola
I warm up, getting my mindset ready.
I finish double knotting each white shoe.
Hitting the black ball back and forth, steady,
Passing to my partner in sets of two.
I strongly hit the ball over the net,
My arm swinging down, slamming the ball hard,
I start to serve, covered in loads of sweat,
I catch my weak opponents off their guard.
But I fall on my hip, shaking the floor.
Hard hit, I lie on the ground not moving,
My hip hurts and I let out a loud roar.
I continue the game, my hip bruising–
Click-click-click-click, my hip pops out of place.
It hurts; I fear it has to be replaced.