Mariam she was named. She crashed heavily into the other girl. They both went down, but Mariam stood up with a face of stone and continued playing. The judge blew the whistle. The other girl was hurt and she had to be carried off the court. Mariam's trainer blinked at her. He was pleased. She had hurt someone and he was pleased. She had never understood football. That's when he walked in. He was tall and scrawny, and he had cheekbones like a god. His eyes glittered like a thousand stars. He was so beautiful. He was standing behind the goal, playing with a football. He had it perfectly balanced on the top of his head. She tried to keep his eyes off him but it was impossible. He looked at her several times, and she could see some kind of interest in his eyes. She was always watching him in the corner of her eye. She was unfocused for the whole rest of the game. At one point she was standing with the keeper, defending the goal. She could hear one of his friends whispering to him: "She hasn't kept her eyes of you for the entire game, mate."
At the end of the game Mariam let her hair down. She took a single, swift sip from her water bottle. She then walked over to him and his friends. She moved like the wind, swaying. Her hair fell down in front of her hair, that golden, beautiful hair. She pushed it away with her hand, and it fell perfectly around her face. Her sad, sad face. She looked so melancholic, like she had a message of death. Her voice was soft like a creek in the spring, flooding over the riverbed. "You look just like him." Five simple words. She didn't blink. Her face was cold and hard. But there was something in her eyes. They shimmered, like glass. They were full of tears. She moved away again, still graceful like the wind. She took 2 steps and fell to the ground. She was not breathing, nor would she ever again. They called an ambulance but it was too late. Her heart had taken an overload. She had died from sorrow.