Translate   11 years ago

Three Strikes And...You're A Girl!? -Quick little note! I know I haven't been on in forever and a day, but should I continue my other story Alice's curse? I haven't gotten inspiration yet to continue it and I thought that this would be a good story as well. So please leave a comment with any suggestion, it would be very helpful!- Chapter one Everyone was looking at me. Seeing me, watching me, they all gave me their full attention. I smiled up at the crowd, giving them a winning grin, showing them pearly white teeth. Making some boys and girls in the front most rows swoon. I heard the announcer call out my name saying I was on deck. I placed my solid black helmet on, pushing myself off of the dugout's doorframe. I grabbed my bat, taking a few practice swings with it. This was the World Series, and my team was going to win it all. We haven't lost once, and my team sure wasn't going to lose today. The bright June sun was blaring its hardest down on the stadium, I wiped a thin droplet of sweat off my forehead as I watched my teammate in front of me hit a single. Cheering him on I took one last swing at the air before I heard the announcer call out "Next up is number 13 and pitcher, Cody Rose." I slung my bat over my shoulder walking up to home plate. My heart was racing so loud I thought the whole place could hear it. Ba-dump Ba-dump Ba-dump "The score is 12-11! There are two men on base, first and third, with the total of two outs! All Cody has to do is bring them home and they win it!" The announcer said, his voice laced with eagerness to see the out come. Everyone was. Swinging the bat off my dirty shoulder I got up to the plate. I aligned myself up raising the metal bat behind me, digging my back foot into the ground. Ba-dump Ba-dump Ba-dump I squinted my eyes over at the pitcher, covered in sweat, breathing heavily. I smiled, 'He's tired, worn out I can do this!' I thought, gripping the bat tighter in my glove red hands, causing them to make a squish like noise. My veins pounded hard with adrenaline in them. The pitcher drew back his arm; and threw the ball. The white and red ball came at me with a blinding speed.'To high.' "Strike one!" The umpire called out from behind me. "What!?" I backed off the plate. The pounded had reached my ears, drumming wildly. I took in a deep breath, rolling my shoulders out before stepping back up to the plate. Getting into position I gritted my teeth together, waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher drew back again, the ball with lighting speed flew out of his hand...I swung at it. "Strike two!" The umpire called out. The crowd, faster than you could say out, grew quiet. The whole arena, full of thousands of people, sports fans; quiet. I drew in a deep breath, my hands started to shake. The realization that everything was riding in me, to win, not just for me but my team as well was resting on my shoulders. I felt sick, I'm going to throw up. The catcher threw the ball back as I stood there. 'I never miss.' My dazed thoughts entered my mind. 'Never.' Ba-dump Ba-dump Ba-dump Ba-dump Ba-dump Ba-dump My body suddenly felt achy, tired like something had sucked all the energy from me. Thin, and shaky arms held my bat. Despite the glaring sun I felt a frost-bitten cold chill run down my back. "This next pitch is all or nothing folks." The announcer said. I felt blinded. Blinded by the pressure, the nervousness and stress. 'I've never been like this!' I gripped the bat and watched the pitcher get ready to throw the ball. 'It can't end like this! My team and I have come so far!' The pitcher drew back his arm. 'I've came so far! Worked to hard! Worked like a dog and to get to this point and lose!' The pitcher shot his arm forward; a prefect pitch. Digging my foot into the ground I closed my eyes, and swung with all my might. I felt the 'whoosh' of wind the ball had encased itself around fly by me as I brought my bat forward. "Ladies and Gentle men I can't believe they've-" "Cody get your head out of you're ass now!" A rough voice sounded off in the soulless house. Eyes snapping open I shot up in my bed, feeling a thing film of sweat arcoss my hairline I moved my arm to wipe it off when a pinching pain rippled through it. I clutched it with my other arm, rubbing it tenderly as I fully woke from the drowsiness of sleep. Once the pain had lessen I rubbed my eyes and stretched my back and neck out. I threw my legs off the side of the bed, wincing slightly as my feet touched the cool floor. Not to mention that 'practice'was practically a beating. Throwing the covers off myself I headed towards my bathroom, connected to my bedroom. Throwing the covers off myself I headed towards my bathroom, connected to my bedroom. Locking the door tight I walked over to the sink and looked at myself in the mirror. My green eyes looked dull and zombified with the dark circles under my eyes. My raven colored hair didn't look any better, a bad case of bed head, I sighed and ran a hand down my face. I looked and felt like shit. "Cody up better be up!" The harsh tone of my father entered the room, even making it through the bathroom door. "I am!" I called back. I sighed again, moving to remove my navy blue tank top. 'It's six a.m.! It's to early to be yelling and pissy.' I thought and removed the last of my clothing and walked over to my shower. Turning it on, I waited for the water to heat up a bit. I crossed my arm acrossed my chest as I caught a glimps of myself in the bathroom mirror. I made a grain in the back of my throat. I knew I was in shape, I had a pretty good body. I wasn't sickly skinny, or pudgy like that. But it was the thought, the mere thought of the grueling hours upon hours making my body the way it was that made me sick. I don't complain, though well at least not out loud. I stared at the bruises and scars, fresh and old littering my sides and torso. My arms tighten around my chest before I could really process what I was doing. I shook the thought from my head and deemed the water warm enough. I relaxed a bit in my shower, the hot droplets undoing some of the knots that were along my shoulder and back. The misty steam drifted lazily around the small room, as I turned off the shower. Stepping out I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around myself. I walked over to the mirror, pulling it open to take out a small container of cover-up make up. I dabbed a bit under both of my eyes, rubbing it in before pulling out my tooth brush. "Cody what the hell is taking you so long!?" I heard my father, Ross Rose, yell at me. "I just got out of the shower!" I called back, spitting out the tooth paste that as in my mouth. "Why does he have to make everything so diffitcult." I mumbled to myself. I dried my black hair out and walked out of the bathroom. I nearly jumped out if my skin when I saw my father standing there. "Jeez, dad you scared me!" I said, gripping the towel tighter around my body. He scoffed at me, "Weaklngs are scared. Not hurry up, we need to leave before seven thirty today." He grumbled, pushing his dark brown hair, now starting to grey a bit on the sides. "But it's Sunday, why can't we go in a bit later?" I suggested. I didn't understand why he wanted to go out so early to work out. I mean its Sunday! A day of rest! "Shut it." He snapped at me. "Seven thirty." He said plainly and stepped out of my room, slamming the door shut with such a force that it shook a few things on my desk table. I pushed my lips together until they formed a thing line. Looking at my digital clock the toxic green numbers read 6:23 a.m. I huffed out a sigh and walked over to go change. Picking out a pair of black sweat pants and some running sneakers I threw them on. I scrambled through my draws for a moment finding a black sports bra and clipped it on. I didn't have a big chest, but still a...well noticeable chest for most girls who were 16 years old. I pulled a red t-shirt over my head and pulled my hair into low ponytail and then threw a hat on. 'Because dad hates to know that he has a daughter and not a son.' I thought bitterly as I walked out of my room. if I was born a boy maybe this would be a bit more bareable. But no, my mother when she was still around wanted me to grow up into a beautiful woman. My father hadn't minded back then, only because he was hoping soon that he would get a son. My father had been an important coach for many mayor league sports. So he had a lot of money coming in, and everything was fine. But my mother and father started to fight more and more. She ended up leaving, saying that she didnt want their child to see them fighting any more. She left a letter for me, saying that they just needed some time apart and that things would soon work themselves out. It's been twelve years since that day. In letter my mother left my father she wrote that she wanted him to raise me like the girl I should be. I hadn't realized until a few years ago, when I actually knew what the hell was going how much he hated her for leaving him. He was he'll bent on making sure I wasn't a girl or woman in any way, shape or form. So he did what he does best, train me. He had me well oiled, like a machine, taught me everything about every major sport known to man. And whenever I made a mistake he would make it loud and clear to me what I did wrong. And he, almost loved it, to make sure I got it clear and didnt do it. Again. My father sitting down on the couch, the TV turned on to the news. I walked up behind him and looked at the screen. The newsanchor woman was talking about that there was suppose to be serious down pours today, and flood warnings were in the area. Ross let out a angry grumble of swears and curses. "What now?" I asked. "I don't fucking care. Just get out of the house and do something productive." He growled at me. He hated it when it rained. That meant any near by sport fields were to wet to play on. I watched him get up and walk to the kitchen. He opened the frige up and saw an all to familiar bottle in his hand. Personally I had no problem with the ran, it made for go running weather. Rushing back up the stairs and into my room I got a wind breaker jacket, black with a white stripe on the left side of the chest. I threw the hood up, tucking my black hair inside and ran back down the stairs, no even saying good bye, and rushed out the door. Quickly I shut the door behind me I jumped down the three steps leading down the small walk way to the city sidewalk. It wasn't raining to hard, but no one was out at the moment, only a few cars pasting by. The air was a bit chilly, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. I stretched my legs out a bit before I started out on my route. I had jogged to the local city park where I saw two older looking men standing in the soccer field. Both were wearing black over coats that reached their knees and one was smoking a cigar. The other one, and shorter than the one smoking was writing something down in a small notebook. That was when I saw two other people on the actual soccer field. It was a game of one on one. I slowed down just a bit to watched for a few moments. Both were men, well more like a man and boy. The kid looked like he was a freshman in high school, while the other man looked like to be in his mid-twenties. I stopped completely and watched, exactly what were they doing? I looked at the two men standing off to the side. They were talking, and looked like they were pointing to the younger boy. 'Maybe they're scouts? But why would they want to play in this kind of weather? Either one could slip, fall and break something.' The moment the thought crossed my mind, the younger boy fell onto one knee and the older man stole the ball from him and scored a goal. Even from where I was standing I could see the boy was extremely upset. "Please again! I can do this!" I heard him yell. The rain had soaked him to the bone it looked like and he started to shake. These men aren't doing anything about it! Sure it wasn't to cold out, but that's if up were bundled up! The poor kid was in nothing but shorts and a shirt. I saw the men on the sideline handle close to one another speaking in hushed voices. "Asses." I hissed and walked onto the field. I noticed I had caught the attention from the older soccer player. He watched me closely as I walked over to the younger boy on his knees. "Hey kid." I called. "You wanna play soccer?" I said stopping a few feet before him. He looked up and nodded his head. His blonde hair, clinging to his forehead and cheeks. "I'm going to best there is!" He said, passionate filling each word. I smiled at the determined looked that entered his eyes. I heard the older player laugh. Ignoring him I pulled my jacket off an tossed it at the kid. "I don't need-" "You want to freeze and get frost bite on your legs? If that happens you won't be able to walk, let alone play soccer." I knew it wasn't to cold it get frost bite, but the kid would be pretty sick, if he wasn't already if stayed like this. I noticed him sigh as he stood up, putting the jacket on. I disnt have my jacket off for a minute and I could already feel my shirt cling to my body wetly. "Thank you." He said, the sound of the pounding rain almost over powered the sound of his voice. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the older player run over to the two men still huddled together, stealing a few glances our way. "Who are they?" I aske the kid, my eyes still focused on them. "They're from this really popular and rich sport school. One of them saw me win my soccer game the other day and told me he could get me into the school." The blonde haired kid sighed and looked down. "Guess not now though, my performance really sucked." I rolled my eyes. "We'll now, yeah they won't want you." I told him. Turning to him I crossed my arm. "Keeping thinking like that and no team would want you. They don't pick you? Who cares! Make them wish they had." I told him. I saw him smile and he held out his hand. "Thanks man, I really needed that." Taking his hand in mine he gave me one of those 'bro hugs' guys do. Letting go I heard wet squishy foot steps walk over to the both of us. "Excuse me sir? But we are in the middle of something at the moment. If you don't mind, please step off the field." The taller one with the cigar said. "Working some kid to death out in cold? So what? You can tell him he's not good enough for your fancy sport school?" I said, my green eyes narrowing up at him. "Listen." He snapped at me. "Can you play?" He asked in a mocking tone. The older player behind them, chuckled and then stepped forward. "Let's see how he plays, yes?" He said in a thick Italian accent, spinning the ball on his fingers and looking me up and down, judging me. "Oh, I can play." I said storming over to him. "The real question is, can you keep up?" I smirk and snatched the ball away from him. "How about this." I looked over to the two men in coats. "I win, you give kid over here another chance." I said. "Um, it's Ethan." He said. "Ethan gets another chance at this school thing of yours and not in crappy wether conditions." I placed the ball on the ground. "And if I lose, then go on with the decision you were going to make." I placed my foot ontop of the ball. "Deal?" I looked back and forth between the two men. Before either men could discuss it over the older player stepped forward kicking the soccer ball out from under my feet yelling out 'Deal'. "This is going to be fun."

  • React
  • Love
  • HaHa
  • WoW
  • Sad
  • Angry