Camera- Broken Arm

I pushed the shutter button just as her feet left the floor. The camera flashed. The square of film came sliding out.
I gazed at the photo, watching it develop.
“Weird!” I cried. “How did I mess up?”
The picture showed Karla’s arm all by itself.
Where was the rest of her body? Her face?
How could I just capture her arm?
A loud CRAAAAACK made the kids in the bleachers gasp.
And rising over that, I heard a high wail, a long, shrill scream of pain.
I turned — and saw Karla dangling from the basket rim.
Hanging by her arm!
Karla shrieked and cried. Tears rolled down her face.
Even from the top of the bleachers, I could see that her arm was horribly broken. It hung there at a totally strange angle.
Players from both teams stood beneath her, screaming and crying. Kids were covering their eyes. The coaches hurried to lower her to the floor.
The referee kept blowing her whistle, again and again, like a siren.
Wailing in agony, Karla lay sprawled on her back on the gym floor, the bones of her arm poking out through her skin.
Gasping for breath, I realized I had the snapshot clenched tightly in my hand. I raised it to my face and stared at it.
Stared at Karla’s arm, all by itself.

Chapter 5