Lost Dreams

Michelleani Baker

EN101S-1

Mrs. Slater

March 21, 2005

Lost Dreams

Remember as a little child, and all those dreams you had? You did anything to make those dreams come true, only to find out in two minutes everything could change. The dreams were gone, the struggle it took to get there seemed futile, and the life that was once organized was useless. Less than a year ago, I found out what exactly what that meant; all the hard work, the planning, and the dream were gone in two minutes.

The sun was bright and sunny that April morning, Florida seemed to always start spring right. It was my first time in Florida and Walt Disney World. I liked the weather and, most of all I was happy to be there to cheer. As a senior in high school, it was my last year to cheer with the girls I have cheered with since I was seven, and if that was not enough it was my last year on an all-girl team. I was going to attend Florida State University in the fall of 2004 and cheer on a co-ed team. The Florida State University coach and the high school coach were there to see me perform. By the morning of the competition, I was ready to prove myself to the coaches and my team. We crammed into an old school bus to ride us to the competition at Walt Disney World.

When we got to the competition, I had to register in my individual event. After registration, the team got ready to perform. The smell of hairspray overwhelmed us as the representative of the National Cheerleading Association said, “Maryland Twisters, you may take the floor.”

My body got cold for the first time in seven years. I was scared of a two-minute routine that I had practiced a thousand times. When I stepped onto the stage, I could feel my heart as it rapidly pumped. I was scared, as we set for the routine. The first task to complete was a standing tumbling. “Come on Michelle, jump!” I screamed inside my head. “You have to pull your legs around.” I landed. “Good, next was running tumbling.” As I moved to the next spot to start my running tumbling, everything seemed to move in slow motion. I was the last tumbler to go. “six…five…four…three…two…one” It was my turn. My legs started to run; my hands hit, then my feet. So far, I was okay. Then my hands hit again. Nevertheless, something happened; I did not get enough push. “Come on Michelle,” I thought to myself, “tighten your body, and wrap your arms.” POP! The next thing I knew I was on the ground grabbing onto my knee. I screamed out for someone to help me, “Stop the music, I am hurt.” By the time they stopped the music, my knee was the size of a watermelon. My father and tumbling coach picked me up and carried me off stage.

I went to the emergency room immediately. The doctors played with my knee and took x-rays. They injected me with needles and gave me painkillers, to ease the pain. After four hours of waiting, the doctor finally came back in. However, for some reason everything he said at that point on made me feel worse.

“How are you doing Miss. Baker? I hope you are doing well. No pain I take it?”

I wanted to scream, “YES I HAVE PAIN YOU BIG IDIOT AND PLAYING WITH MY KNEE DID NOT HELP,” but what I said was “No, I am doing fine.”

Therefore, he continued, “I have regretful news to tell you. You have torn your anterior cruciate ligament (ACL). This means that the main ligament in your knee is torn and you will need surgery immediately.”

I looked at my father with a confused face then, I turned to the doctor as tepid tears flowed down my face.

“Will I ever be able to cheer gain?”

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