1 A time to reflect

"BANG! BANG! BANG! Another 3 pointer for Mathias!"

A young brown-skinned boy smirked as he turned, running to the half-court line to get on defense; a cyan and navy blue banner, with the words Derossett high school, hanging behind him in the bleachers accompanied with the cheers of the schools' fans.

Turning back to the sight of his team following not too far behind, with the exception of Lazy Cabbage, Mathias prepared himself to guard #45 who was steadily coming up the court.

As #45 neared Mathias, he broke into a sprint, attempting to speed pass Mathias and hopefully give an answer to the three that were scored in his face; but, things didn't work out as planned.

Mathias watched the ball as it was dribbled in accordance to his opponents' rhythm. Though #45 was trying to move as fast as he could with a burst of energy, he still looked so slow in the eyes of Mathias.

"Nice try."

The ball descending to the floor, #45 waited to feel the leather kiss the tips of his fingers again yet the sensation never came; however, he heard the sound of the ball dribbling behind him, though it was hastily fading.

A steal!

Mathias charged down the court, not having much distance to cross as he moved from the halfcourt line. The only problem was a single player that lagged behind due to the inbound from his previous score.

Stopping, Mathias gave another smirk and stared the other player down; #12, their power forward. "All effort is good effort", dribbling the ball behind his back and between his legs, Mathias suddenly lunged forward causing the defender to step back in hopes to follow with his defense; that was his downfall. The young man quickly dribbled the ball back, retreating, forcing his opponent to try and follow the change in directions. Sadly, his ankles buckled as Mathias charged forward once again; the pf however not falling to the ground but being supported slightly by Lazy Cabbage who'd silently positioned himself for a screen behind #12 just in case Mathias couldn't break the defender.

"Not necessary, Cabbage!"

Met with a yawn by the large high-schooler, Mathias gazed up at the hoop, eyes full of vigor. In an attempt to defy gravity his body began to lift from the ground, knees pulled up to his chest as the ball switched from his left hand to his right.

For a moment, the gymnasium was silent, frozen in time. All eyes were fixated on the single baller in the air, with his cyan and navy blue uniform on, sporting a white number seven on the back of his jersey. Everyone waited with bated breath, then suddenly

BZZZZZZT; swish!!!

The crowd erupted as Mathias hung from the hoop, the ball dropping through and falling to the wood court below.

"Fr-Fr-From the free-throw line! Do you believe that! This kid, a sophomore in high school, just did a tomahawk dunk, with his knees tucked, from the free-throw line! He just exudes talent!"

Knowing he could only hang from the hoop for only so long, Mathias loosened his grip and descended to the floor; however, tragedy struck.

As he dropped down, the sound of footsteps masked mostly by the roar of the audience hastily approached Mathias. #45 could be seen rushing up from behind the descending Mathias, resentment on his face as he rammed into Matthias' legs, causing the young player to fall with his back down towards the ground, limbs flailing for some type of brace.

Then a crack.

The gym fell silent once more, though this time it was accompanied by a chill. Mathias lay on the court, left arm awkwardly behind his back while his right ankle was bent out of wack; eyes closed, unconscious, as #45 looked down at him, anger steadily being replaced with remorse and shame.

When he woke, Mathias' eyes slowly opened to the sight of bright lights shrouding his vision accompanied by the sound of muffled commotion. "Wha-...What's going on?" Turning his head from the bright lights, he looked over to see his mother sitting in a white leather chair, head tilted as if resting. "Hrm?" Turning again, he heard the sound of a door opening as a woman with purple scrubs entered with a smile on her face.

"Well look who's up", her cheerful voice easily put Mathias slowly growing concern at ease as he began to gather his thoughts, "so, I know things are probably a mess for you right now, considering you just woke up. My name's Sarah, I'll be your nurse for the night. You've been unconscious for about...four hours now. So, I need to run a quick little check to make sure you're functioning alright, that okay?" Speaking clearly, Sarah made sure not to rush her words so the awakening Mathias could take everything in.

"Uh, yeah. That's fine?"

"Haha, great. So, what's your name?"

"Mathias Derukin"

"Perfect, and your birthday?"

"December thirteenth."

"Year?"

"Ninety. Two thousand and ninety."

"Hmmm, well you know who you are. No noticeable signs of amnesia, which is good. Which leaves your only injuries being a broken fibula and fractured left shoulder blade. Do you have any questions?"

Starting at the doctor in disbelief, Mathias couldn't believe what it until he attempted to roll his right ankle only to be met with an odd popping sound reverbing through his body and a stabbing pain following not too far afterward.

"How...How long until I recover?"

"Well", grabbing a clipboard on the wall near Mathias, Sarah began to flip through two sheets of paper before returning her gaze back to the young boy, " it seems you should be in moving shape within three weeks, though you won't be fully recovered for aboooout five months; that's without any strenuous activities."

Heaving a sigh, Mathias gave a nod and turned from the nurse, closing his eyes as he tried to hold back tears. "Will I be able to play basketball once I'm recovered?"

"Hrm? Yeah, you should be fine. Don't worry, as long as you're obedient before then. Allow your body time to recover and you'll be back on the court in no time."

"I see, thank you."

"No problem. If that'll be all, I'll be leaving. Simply press the green button on the wall or remote if you need anything and myself or a unit tech will be right with you."

Giving another nod, the young man rested further into the bed and allowed himself to drift off again, his fears put at ease as his mind wandered back to the past, thirty-eight years into what used to be his future.