My Favorite Scar

It happened during the summer of 2008 while I was playing county league softball. I was on second base waiting for my chance to run to third. The girl who was up to bat hit the ball right over the infield and it rolled passed the outfield. I took off as soon as I heard the crack of the bat. I looked up at the third base coach as he yelled and motioned to me to head home. I rounded third base, not knowing where the ball was but noticing that the catcher had moved forward to prepare to get me out. I was a couple feet away dropped down and slid. I was safe! As I went to get up I couldn’t put all of my weight on my left leg. So I limped off of the field and took a seat in the dugout. I slowly rose up my pant leg to reveal blood slowly but surely coming out of my leg. My skin had been removed from a few inches above my ankle to my knee and was about 3 inches wide. The team gathered around making sure that I was okay. In pain, but still glad that I had made a run for my team I told them that I was fine but that I needed to get something on my leg and quick. Some of the girls on my team had little sisters with them so they ran into the bathroom and brought me a few paper towels. I went over to the concession stand to ask them if they had any band-aids, and of course they didn’t. So I kept the paper towels on it and got it to stop bleeding just in time for me to go back out on the field. In the end, we won the game. I went home and right away put Neosporin and a wrap around my leg. I did this everyday so that I wouldn’t have an ugly scar for my whole life, and I don’t. If you don’t look hard enough you can’t even notice it. I know it’s there though, and that I took one for the team, even though I was later told that I didn’t have to slide. I call it, my battle wound.