He tied the rubber tube around his upper arm, holding one end with his teeth to pull it taut. He made a tight fist, took in a breath and jammed the needle into the bulging muscle. Breathing out and releasing the tourniquet, he stared at the reflection in his bedroom mirror. Not big enough.
Throwing on his jersey and grabbing his backpack he walked through the kitchen as his mother called out, “TJ! Don’t forget your lunch. It’s on the counter. I’ll see you tonite after practice.”
He didn’t answer and shut the front door before he could hear her say she loved him, as she always did when he left the house or wrapped up a phone conversation with her. He didn’t want to hear it. He was a disappointment to her and to everyone else.
Vivo O Sonho 