What comes to mind when you hear the term “yo-yo”?  Fun? Joy? A child’s toy? A Chinese yo-yo with its wooden sticks?

Whenever I hear it, I feel pain…

3:14 pm

Monday, December 5th, 2016

Meyer Auditorium, Huron High School

Talent Show Dress Rehearsal

My dance team was seated, waiting to perform. Around us were other groups eager to showcase their talent. One such group was “APEX Yo-Yo.” They were behind us, practicing for their act.

I turned to talk to my coach, “Hey--”

Bang! Everything went black.

***

I opened my eyes. Everything seemed normal. Almost everything. My friends were still on their phones. Groups on stage were still performing. The music was still blaring. Or was it? All I heard was an incessant buzzing. I looked down to see a large Chinese yo-yo at my feet and looked up to come face-to-face with its owner. His lips seem to be moving but I couldn't hear him. He patted me on the shoulder and walked away with his yo-yo. I tried to get up. I failed. I tried to talk. I failed. I tried to feel my nose. I failed. I felt nothing but absolute pain.