Some are players
image – Flickr / timlewisnm
I swept the chess pieces to the floor and ran out. The pieces were still popping around on the ground like popcorn when I left the room where the match was being played. It was my school versus some other school. I had lost.
I didn’t care at all about the rest of my team. Losers.
The coach of the team, an English teacher, ran out after me but he was sort of laughing. “Stop,” he said. “Wait.”
But I didn’t want to. I had lost. I was worthless. I hated myself. I hated everyone. The rest of my team was laughing. I could hear them. Laughing at me. The other team was in shock.
I am a sore loser. It’s not that I’m so competitive with others. But I’m competitive with myself. I like to do better than I did before. Sometimes that means…
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