WAhoo! A title!

So this past Wednesday I did something that I probably could have lived without doing. But me being me, I did it. My brother at church dared me to throw a Volleyball at my youth pastor's head. And so I thought, "What's the worse that could come out this?" And so I stepped forward, quickened my pace and threw it as hard as I could. I barely missed his head as he turned around. I smiled as he asked who did it, I raised my hand still smiling. I'm not sure whether he was more surprised that I would go down the road of trying to cause him pain, or that it was ME who did so. I wouldn't say that I am the biggest, or even the strongest person in my youth group. But I have little fear, even for those like my youth pastor. Don't get me wrong, I respect him, but this ongoing war of ours is part of that mutual respect. He hurts me, I hurt him more than I anticipated, and he hurts me more then he wanted, but less then he thought he did. So I went up to him and put my hand on his shoulder.
"Micah, I had to do it, my brother dared me." I told him.
"Dude, do you have any clue what I would have done if that had hit me?" He asked smiling.
I didn't have time to answer, he grabs me. I think that he was going to pick me up, so I wrapped my hands around his leg. He thought that I was trying to push him over (Of which I should have tried.) So he grabbed me around my waist and picked me up, he then pushed me against the wall. I hit it and he set me down and in accordance I fell to the ground. My whole body except my legs were in pain, and I couldn't breathe at all. (Still can't, just kidding!) I fell on my back, my legs bent and I just laid there. I couldn't breath, I couldn't tell them what was wrong, I was just there. My youth pastor noticed something was wrong as I hit the ground, he later said that I had a look of complete pain and terror on my face. I just laid there unable to move, breathe or talk; three must haves for me.
"I am going to die if i don't get at least one breath." I thought to myself.
My youth pastor asked me what was wrong and if I was OK.
"I.. ct breah.." Was all that got out.
But even so, they knew what I had said. My youth pastor stood straight up.
"Oh, you can't breath? Well he's fine!" He said with much relief.
"What? I'm fine? I still can't breathe!" I thought wanting to yell that at him.
I was able to get maybe one or two breaths in, when one of the youth told them to help me up so I could breath better. I stood up and Micah was still asking if I was OK, I was able to breathe better so I said yes. We went into his office (Where he had been going when I "attacked" him.) I sat down, still in pain, still getting my breath back. I asked him if we were even.... for now. He said yes after hesitation. I then told him that I had a sudden urge to get him back, hard. He laughed and told me that I was a dummy (In the nicest way possible) and crazy.
"Thank you." I said with a smile.
So I guess there is a lesson to learn here, when attacking youth pastor, do not walk up to him, RUN!