I have screwed up so much, why did I do it? My heart was having a war with my lungs. The door hadn’t moved yet, it was good. Nobody knows where I am, so if anything happened, I’d have to deal with it alone. I bet you’re wondering how I went from a football fan to being hunted by the football teams.
    It all started when I said “Hey Tubby.” To a linebacker on the B team from 8th grade.
    “You talkin’ to me?” He exclaimed, with anger in his eyes.
    “Who else would I be talking to, Stringbean” I answered gesturing to a wide receiver, while trying my best not to coward out of this.
    “You better crawl back into the stands and leave alone.” The running back said trying to stay calm.
    “Who’s gonna’ make me, Tubby, Stringbean, or you Doll face.” I responded as my blood blood races to my head and my ears flare up.
    “Do you really want to fight?!?” The  Quarterback asked demanding an answer.
    “Against who Tubby, Stringbean, Doll face, or you noodle arms?” Oh god I really shouldn’t have said that, the entire team raced after me. Oh my god I didn’t think all of them would come I’m never going to lose them. I leaped over a fence around three feet high.
    I worked up the confidence to say “Try to Jump that Tubby” I can still hear it echoing in my ears.
    “YOU’RE GONNA DIE KID!!!” The linebacker roared in anger. Turning to run, my legs jolted to a stop. My life had started to flash in front of my eyes, no not yet but my legs had tremble to puddy. The eighth grade A team is stampeding through the mud. When the wind grabbed me, pulling me away, like a whisper saying “Your not dead yet, run.” My legs  regained their strength and jolted to the right pulling back to the football field where the C team had been waiting for me. The entire eighth grade after me a sixth grader!
    I dashed under the bleachers doing anything I could to lose them, I tipped over trash cans, pushed people into the stampede. It was useless the A team had cut me off with the A team in front of me, and the B team surrounded me from behind leaving no gaps. I turned to find the C team running down the bleacher stairs, making it almost impossible to escape. They all charged, I jumped up onto a player’s shoulders digging my cleats in his pads. He had stood up in confusion, I fell to the ground cutting my leg open. Limping I hopped as fast as I could, being kicked left and right. The teams forced me to fall a lot onto people though.
    Rooms, I had to get into a room. “Rmmm” I moaned in pain and frustration. “The rooms were locked, but what about this janitor's closet?” I thought, grabbing the handle of the door it flew open. Hearing cleats clang on the metal floor, I jumped in the closet. The walls were lined with mops and brooms, with some buckets on shelves.
    “Why is there so much rope in here?” I thought, moving when my supply of air was cut off. The rope had moved around my neck, and had slowly tightened. Throwing my body mops, brooms, and buckets, had fallen on top of me with one beautifully loud crash. I don’t know what hurt more the crash or what’s about to happen, but that’s how I got here. The door is turning, why is the door turning! Quickly I tie a loop in the rope, on both ends football players barge into the room one says “If you don’t have anything nice to say don’t anything.”
    He was right, their metal cleats will kill me and I’ll just hear that for eternity. Blood has begun to cover my face, trickling more with every kick. The running back just came up with new cleats, I jumped up and punched him to the ground and my legs pulled me through the door. There was more outside, I threw one end of the rope around my shoulders. I jumped and got pushed over the fence between me and death.
    Falling
    Falling sixty feet from the ground, on a one way trip to the ground. “I could die, I COULD DIE!” 57, 49, 41 feet, how much longer will I be falling? What if the rope breaks, then what? Blood had started to run up my face, was I going that fast? Two or three players had been grabbing the rope, but it didn’t help, not at all. Was it worth it some mean jokes for my life, no it wasn’t. I shouldn’t have said anything. Did the rope jerked up or did I just hit the ground.

R.I.P?