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=Exposition/Inciting Incident= One scorching spring day during recess, which we loved as much as no homework, my best friend Matt and I, Sam, decided to play basketball. I love basketball, so it makes perfect sense that I wanted to play with Matt. Matt was a fourth grader, just like me, and loved basketball. He was also very funny. I am a boy who wears glasses and therefore gets teased about it a little bit. Matt and I were friends for only a year now. Well, it was so hot that I could've melted into a puddle. While Matt went to get a good and bouncy basketball, I went through the loud noises of recess to pick one of the three basketball courts to play on. The fairly small court consisted of one hoop and the foul and three-point lines. The hoop on the left court was in front of many trees. There were so many trees behind the hoop that it looked as big as a forest. The minute I got to the court, three other kids, Frank, Fred, and Tom, who were playing together went to this same court and said that they were going to play there. The tallest person was Frank. Tom was short but had long legs. Fred was average-sized. "What are you doing?" I asked, " I want to play here." "We got here first so we get to play here," said Frank. "But I got here first," I remarked unhappily. Fred replied, "Well, too bad." "How about a game of three on three? Let's ask someone else to play with us." "We play by ourselves. It's more fun for us. Adios." I was getting ruffled but I didn't say anything about it. Instead, I kept trying to convince them to let me play on the court.

=Rising Action= I remained there, on that left court, attempting to play there. I annoyed them so much by repeatedly asking them to let me play on the court that I was ignored completely. So I went to the other two courts and saw if they were empty which they were not. I tried asking some other kids if I could play with them. "Hey," I started, "can Matt and I play with you?" "No," they replied. "Why?" "Because we're in the middle of a game. Now please let us play." I asked at the third and final court hoping for a yes. On the contrary, I got the same, rejecting answer, no. Feeling pretty dejected and upset that no one would let me play with them, I returned to the left court and I saw the ball whirling through the air. As I asked them again, they got an impatient look on their faces. I was pushed down by one of the three kids. My blue glasses flew off. I searched all over for them. The threesome were laughing at me and said that I look silly without my glasses. I didn't see that push coming. The push I felt was very hard and it felt like a bird was pecking at that spot. I got a mark on my palm when it got cut on the rough, uneven blacktop. Horribly uncomfortable and unbearable pain raced through the cut. From down there I could see the birds flying in the sky. At that time, I thought that the sky is the road for the birds. I don't really like violence and I definitely don't like seeing people hurt, so I didn't push him down or fight back. Instead, I got up and I said, "Why did you push me, and why are you being so mean?" Fred answered, "Well stop bothering us and take another court. We just want to play here. If you did get another court you wouldn't have been pushed down. There are a couple more courts to play on." "I tried asking there, but no one will let Matt and me play with them," I muttered as I got back up to my feet. "Well we're not going to let you or your friend Matt play with us either, so go find something else to do." said Tom, as I descended and my glasses soared from one of Tom's hard pushes.

=Climax= Right then, Matt, my best friend, helped me up and defensively said, "Stop making fun of him. You're not special; you're normal and just an average Joe." "Well stop bothering us. We don't annoy you, do we?" Frank responded. "Just let us play here!" "Why? We are playing here." "But he got here first, though. So we should get to play here." "Well we're going to play here. So do whatever you want, but don't disrupt our game," bellowed Tom. Then the Frank, Tom, and Fred resumed their basketball game. After this rejection I got an idea. I told Matt that we could do exactly what they didn't want us to do, disrupt their game. At my next opportunity, I managed to get hold of the ball and passed it to Matt. It wasn't a plan; we just did whatever we could to make sure they didn't get the ball. He missed it and the three kids continued playing. We kept trying to get the ball. Once, Matt got the ball and passed it to me. I passed it back. We kept throwing back and forth it over Fred's head, laughing our heads off. The others were trying to get the ball; their attempt was unsuccesful. Then, when Matt had the ball, I shouted to warn him that Tom was behind him, trying to push him down and take the ball. He didn't hear me and the ball went to Tom who grabbed it from Matt. Every time the ball was thrown to me, it landed on the scratched hand. It happened each and every time the ball was passed to me. Searing pain went through my cut hand every time that happened. I also tried distracting them to get the ball. Once I told Frank to say "She sells sea shells by the seashore." He kept messing up and when his grip on the ball was loose, I grabbed it from him and ran around the court with the ball, passing it to Matt as we played. We kept intercepting the ball and playing for about three minutes and then decided to do something else. We made this decision for two reasons: One, we were bored of this game. It was fun in the beginning, but what are we supposed to do when they are playing? Our game was intercepting the ball and playing with it. The other and slightly more important reason we didn't want to play this game anymore was because they told the teacher that we didn't let them play. We were annoyed that they told the teacher. The teacher called us. In conclusion, I tried telling the teacher my facet of the story, but my side of the story wasn't taken into account. She just ignored my story. To this day, I have no idea why.

=Falling Action= "Come on," I said, "Let's go play something else. Maybe we'll play some soccer with the other kids on the soccer field." Matt thought we should play soccer too. The soccer field was on lush, green grass. We played there with the others. Because there were so many people. nobody cared who joined as long as they would play well. Since nobody was covering the goal, I played goalkeeper, even though I play horribly in that position. Unfortunately, the ball was coming to my goal. I hoped that the defenders would stop it but that didn't happen. The boy with the ball was ready to shoot. "Knock it out of the park!" someone shouted. I wasn't looking; I was concentrating on the ball. The ball went CRACK when it was kicked. Everyone thought that it would go past me, but I miraculously stopped it. "OUCH!!!" I shouted, because I stopped it with my hurt hand. Searing pain leapt through my hands once more. No one heard me yell, and the game was back to normal, although my hand wasn't. I wasn't very comfortable, so I played offense. I got the ball, but I had no idea what to do with it, since I was surrounded on all sides. I kicked it wildly. I watched the ball eagerly. It slid through the remaining players on offence, raced through the defenders, weaved its way past a final defender, slipped through the goalkeeper's hands and rushed into the net. "GOAL!" I yelled ecstatically. "Good job," complimented Matt. "Thank you. I hardly ever shoot like that." I was proud of myself and I stayed there. As I stood there, I heard loud cheering; everyone was yelling and shouting because someone scored the winning goal. I was pretty sure they were talking about me. Even I was cheering for myself. I was overjoyed for being recognized. But I was wrong; they weren't cheering for me. There was a boy called Jeremy next to me and he got the praise because everyone assumed that he did it. This was probably because he was a fifth grader and could play soccer well. He also played soccer for the county. I protested many times trying to say that I did it, not Jeremy, but I wasn't listened to at all. I was fuming. You could've seen steam come from my ears. I left and counted to ten. After doing that, I walked around and was bored after a few minutes. So I returned to the soccer field. Finally, I was no longer angry. The steam had subsided.

=Resolution= "TWEEEEEEET" went the teacher's shiny, silver, loud whistle. I almost fell over from the sound. I yelled," Matt, it's time to leave." Matt replied," Too bad. Well, recess can't last forever, can it?" "I guess it can't. Well, thanks for stopping the mean kids from hurting me badly." "Friends always stand by each other, don't they?" "You're absolutely right. The sun is shining brightly. Bright light from the sun comes upon us all," I said as we walked back inside. "This was an interesting and unique recess, we don't have that much fun with a basketball that often, do we?" he observed as he hi-fived me. "I suppose we don't. We don't spend recess like this," I replied. I said goodbye and went on my way to class. But on the way I saw something. Frank, Fred, and Tom were moaning in the nurses's office because they wound up hurt from their horribly rough basketball game. They told me that they were hurt because they played too violently. I wasn't surprised; every time they played near us we saw the way they play. We saw all the pushing and shoving and their speed and the ball which whizzed around as fast as light. All I said was that I was sorry for them. I partly thought they deserved it. I went to my next class after seeing their injuries. On the way to class, I realized that this whole experience taught me something. It was that I should stick up for my friends when they're injured, just like Matt was helpful to me. The rest of the day went just as normal.