Being a sports photographer was your lifelong dream. You’d been taking pictures since you were younger, and you got your first job from Ted for the football team. And then he made the move to England, and you accepted his invitation to follow.

You were squatting out in the sun, your eyes focused on the field through the lens of your camera. The scrimmage was loud, curses and swears thrown at each other. You zoomed in just as you noticed everyone turning in your direction.

“Oh— Look out!”

Ted’s warning came too late. Before you knew it, the ball was making contact with your skull. The force knocked you onto your rear end, your fingers tensing around the camera so you wouldn’t drop it. The coaches hurried to your side, and a body began to sprint toward you. Number 24, his face twisted into shock and guilt. “I am so sorry. Are you alright?” he asked, words rushed as he knelt beside you.