Smash to the Heart

Margo’s footsteps echoed loudly on the pavement as she left the court, her heart still pounding from the intensity of the match. 

The sound of her friends calling her name from behind seemed distant, as if they were speaking from a world she no longer felt connected to. 

"Margo! Margo!" Her friends shouted, their voice full of concern, but Margo didn’t slow down. 

She didn’t turn around.

She couldn’t face them right now.

Her chest felt tight, and her head swam with a mixture of disappointment and confusion. 

She had given it everything—every ounce of energy, every tactic she could think of—but it wasn’t enough. 

Aerin had won. 

She had pushed her to the limit, and yet Margo had still come up short.

Margo’s eyes stayed focused on the ground as she walked briskly toward the edge of the complex, away from the crowds, away from the noise, and most importantly, away from the questions. 

Her parents’ faces loomed in her mind, their disappointed gazes a haunting reminder of their constant expectations. 

*"You can’t afford to lose, Margo. Do better next time."*

She didn’t want to hear that now. 

Didn’t want to face their cold indifference to her struggles. 

They would be angry, disappointed—just like always.

*I should’ve won,* she thought bitterly, her steps quickening.

She pushed her way through a side gate, one that led away from the main tournament grounds, into an area of the campus she had never really explored. 

The field here was empty, the bleachers abandoned. 

The air was cool, the faint sound of wind rustling through the trees the only noise around her. 

There were no lights, no people—just a quiet, empty space where Margo could breathe.

Her breathing was still shallow, her heart hammering in her chest as she slowly walked towards the farthest corner of the field, a small, secluded bench hidden in the shadows. 

It was a place she could be alone—truly alone. 

There, hidden in the dark, no one could see the cracks in her composure, no one would ask questions, no one would try to comfort her.

She sat down, her head in her hands, the weight of the match still heavy on her chest. 

She could still feel the burn in her legs from the final point, the sting of the loss refusing to fade. It wasn’t just the match that hurt; it was everything that had led up to it. 

The expectations, the endless hours of training, the pressure from her parents to win. 

Every loss felt like another failure in their eyes. 

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it. 

It was probably her parents, asking what went wrong, demanding answers. 

She couldn’t bring herself to check it. Not now. 

Not when she still hadn’t processed the loss herself.

Margo leaned back on the bench, staring up at the sky, the darkening clouds above reflecting her mood. 

She could feel the tears threatening to rise, but she pushed them back. 

Crying wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t make her parents proud, it wouldn’t fix the match, and it wouldn’t take away the crushing disappointment she felt inside.

But as the weight of everything pressed down on her, the tears finally broke free. 

They spilled down her cheeks, quiet at first, and then heavier as she let the emotions flood through her.

She had pushed herself to the limit. 

She had given everything—everything that she had—and it still wasn’t enough. 

Her shoulders trembled as she wiped her face, but the tears didn’t stop. 

They were a release, a breaking point that she had been holding off all day.

She thought of how she would have to face her parents.

The disappointment in their eyes, the judgment in their voices, and the endless feeling of not being enough.

Her phone buzzed again, more urgently now. 

She glanced at it, her thumb hovering over the screen, but still, she didn’t answer. 

She couldn’t bring herself to face them.

For now, she just needed to be alone. 

To let the tears fall without anyone telling her to stop or asking her what was wrong. 

She needed a moment—just a moment—to feel everything that had built up over the last few days. 

And she let herself cry, fully and completely, under the silent sky.