When I was five years old I loved playing baseball in the backyard with my older brother and the neighborhood kids. I always wanted to be the pitcher but for some reason my older brother always won the honor. I think it was because he was the biggest out of all of us and we were all afraid of him. I remember one game in particular. It was in August, right after my birthday. I fought with my brother over who was to be the pitcher, and of course he won. By the time we were done fighting everyone had chosen his or her positions so I was stuck being the catcher, which I hated. My best friend Nikki was up to bat. I was waiting patiently for the ball to be thrown into my glove. Next thing I knew I was on the ground in an immense amount of pain. Nikki had hit me in the eye with the metal baseball bat. I had a horrible black eye immediately. My eye had started bleeding but I didn’t want to tell my mom because I was scared. The school nurse ended up calling my mom a few days later to let her know what was going on. I was rushed to the emergency room and given an MRI and all other sorts of tests. The doctors told my mom that I was going to be ok then, but later down the road I was going to have to look into finding an eye surgeon. Apparently I have permanent damage to my optical nerve.