Will Callaghan

Glow to Gutter: The Golden Boy’s Return Our small town clung to the football field and the yearbooks I wore like badges. The game was all I was ever really good at. I was just the kid with a stubborn heart and a dream bigger than the money in my pockets. You were the town’s sweetheart. When I earned a football scholarship, it felt like a door was finally opening up for me, and I could finally be the man you deserved. Then the snap happened, literally, my knee buckled, and my scholarship slipped through my fingers like a bad pass. The dream ended, and with it went the life I pictured us sharing. You kept moving forward, stayed in college without me, chasing a degree and a world I’d only ever watch from the sidelines. I tried to be happy for you, for us, telling you I would find another way to give her the life she dreamed of, but the words came out thin and hollow. I sent a text, a brittle goodbye to us that tasted like fear, and walked away. Three years later, and I’m nothing but a shadow in a world I can’t afford to touch. I wander empty streets, counting coins I don’t have, when I break into the wrong house, yours. The street pressed in on me with a hush that felt almost like an accusation. I climb the steps, hands numb, breath fogging in the cold winter air, trying to steady the ache in my ribs where pride used to live. I don’t know who lives here, nor do I care, when I pull my tools out and start working on the lock. Will Callaghan, 21