Emma

As the bell echoed throughout my elementary school, I was the first one out of my chair. As a 4th grader, there was no limit to my energy. I was psyched for my second softball game of the season. I raced to snatch my backpack from the back of the room. I whizzed out of the classroom, skidding around corners, racing my shadow to the buses, my little feet pounding the cement, unusually hyper. I flung myself up the bus steps and into my seat, bouncing rapidly. I waited impatiently for the rest of the kids on my bus to stumble up the steps and slouch in their own seats, taking almost a minute to do what I'd done in approximately 2 seconds. My stop was first, so I flew out of my seat, sprinting down the hill to my house, pretending I was running the bases at tonight's game. Whirling into the house, and was thrilled to find that both of my parents were sitting in our living room. I pounced on my father, immediately illustrating my day, I was absolutely sure I'd aced the EEE test, and I'd gotten the best score on the social studies assignment. I wriggled, disturbed, not realizing why my parents weren't happy; they were always happy when I was happy. "Where's Emma?" I asked brightly.

"Honey, she was suffering so much..."

"Oh, so she's at the vet?"

"Honey, we had to put her down." My mother looked for my reaction, biting her lip to keep from crying.

"NO!!! You didn't even tell me! I didn't even say goodbye! You killed my dog! I hate you! I hate you!!!" I screamed, my voice rising in pitch and volume, until I was shrieking, practically hysterical. I raced to my room and slammed my door, rattling my shelves, knocking off a picture of Emma and me when I was younger, shattering the glass into a million pieces. I began to sob, and continued to do so until I ran out of tears, then fell asleep.

I awakened as my mother shook my shoulder gently. I reluctantly pulled on my softball uniform, beginning to cry again as I did so. We drove to my softball game in silence. My older brother and I both gazed out of our windows, silent tears caressing our cheeks. When we arrived I warmed up unenthusiastically, and huddled in the corner of the dugout as soon as possible. Coach put me in outfield for a little while, but mostly I just sat in the dugout. I was last in the batting order, so I didn't bat a single time. I didn't care. My mind was in different places. Life just isn't fair.