Post by Brighitta on Jan 31, 2007 12:29:17 GMT -5
An idea, still unfinished, I've been working on. Enjoy!
Morning. Cold, bleary morning. Outside, grey, heavy clouds hang low over the city, threatening to release waterfalls of rain in the next few hours. Half-naked trees that lined the road outside the small, stone apartment block stood gloomily, bowing nearly to the ground with each gust of the northerly wind. Little whirlwinds carried dry leaves across the roads, tossing them aside on the sides of the streets like a woman may throw away a pair of torn stockings. Even the sunlight, weak, bleary and somehow grey, made the city appear all the more depressing.
Alison sat up and in her bed and yawned. A single glance outside made her mood as dark as the sky, and when she placed her feet onto the cold floor, she was convinced the day was not going to go well.
A hot shower, cup of tea and make-up session later, Alison threw a bad across one shoulder and closed the door behind herself. Hiding her face in a voluminous shawl, she rushed across the street and into a tall, modern, glass building, empty and quiet so early in the morning.
There were no couples in the changing room yet, so she changed in relative silence, doing her best to ignore the echoing sounds of the men doing something to the swimming-pool just next door.
Off went the heavy trousers and the two sweaters, a pair of skintight bike-shorts and a thin polo replacing them.
When she was tying the laces, her mobile rang.
'Yeah?'
'Allie, it's Dan,' a tense, male voice spoke into her ear. She placed the phone between her head and shoulder, and continued to do the laces, puling and tugging as she spoke.
'Hey. You stuck in traffic? I'm at the Centre already.'
'Allie, I – I won't be coming today.'
Her hands dropped, an eerie dread, yet unformed and vague, squirming in her stomach.
'Why? We haven't finished the programme yet, and -'
'Listen to me, please. I'm at the hospital. Some jerk crashed into me on the highway.'
'nuts. Is – is it serious?' Her throat became dry, cold sweat of dread appearing on her back.
'Looks like it, but I haven't had an X-ray yet. I can't stand on my foot, and it's twice it's normal size. I'll call Marie. Tell her we're pulling out.' His voice was strangely emotionless, as if he was merely telling her that the weather was bad.
Allie sat there, listening to beeping, for some minutes. Her entire world seemed to be collapsing around her in fragments of carefully made dreams and hopes, aspirations and desires, as she sat on the wooden bench of Sport Centre's changing room.
She had first put on figure skates at the age of six, and fell in love with the sport instantly. She'd changed many parters, won plenty of medals in junior tournaments – but it had never been enough. She aimed high – always had. Worked night and day, often coming home with unfeeling feet that resembled minced meat and with limbs covered with purple bruises. Once, she fell and broke her nose. On another occasion – her wrist. But none of that mattered – not if all that work was going to bring her closer to her ultimate goal. The Olympic gold. The title of Olympic Champion of the Vancouver Olympic Games. The one medal in her twenty-three that would make her truly happy.
Two months left. Sixty days. And her partner, her best friend, he was in the hospital. With a leg injury that was going to cost them their title.
She did not cry. She was much too strong for that. So without knowing how to react to the information, she went onto the empty rink and began to skate. Three circumferences first; slower, faster, and top speed. Then exercises. Loops. Double, then triple loops. A salto. Triple turns. Braking. Stretching.
Her body was so used to every move that it worked on autopilot. Her mind was in numb and empty as she leapt and twisted, refusing to think, to accept that she might as well give up and wait for another four years. Which would mean three years of doing nothing. It was not as if she could boast anything but her sporting achievement, and at twenty, no-one was going to let her coach.
The cold air blew through her hair, the tiny fragments of ice formed droplets on her face and around her dry eyes. Her mouth was fixed in a determined, hard line as she spun in a quarter loop, landed on one foot with perfect balance and began to gain speed for a double barrel.
'Allie?'
She landed on both feet and looked around. A lone figure was leaning against the railing.
Marie. Her trainer. Once a European champion, now her friend and mentor.
'Have you heard?' Marie asked as Allie skated up to her.
'Yeah,' Allie answered quietly (her throat hurt for some reason), then she looked her trainer in the eyes, 'so, come to tell me to pack up and go home for three years?'
'No, of course not,' the older woman smiled sadly, 'don't be silly. You're our only hope, what with Kara dropping out at the last moment. We can't afford to lose you too.'
'I can hardly go for the singles,' Allie laughed bitterly, 'bit too late for that.'
'No, you can't.'
'So Dan is coming back then?' A hope lit inside of her, 'he's okay?'
'He broke his shin, four toes and his thigh bone, Allie. He's on the operating table as we speak, and he'll probably need another four operations after that. No, he is not going to Vancouver.'
'Then what's all the 'we can't lose you' talk for? I don't need falso hope. If you're gonna tell me to go, I'll go.'
Marie looked at her with pity and understanding. Allie could have killed her then.
'We have to find you another partner, Allie,' Marie said on one breath.
Allie froze.
'Are you insane?' she rolled her eyes, 'two months before the Olympics? With an unfinished programme?'
'We'll have to work hard, yes, but -'
Allie scoffed.
'Marie, how long did it take me and Dan to sync?'
'Well, it's -'
'How long?'
Marie did not answer. She did not have to. Both knew, only too well, that at least a year was needed for partners to synchronize, to get to feel each other, to learn each other's strengths and weaknesses, to, most importantly, trust one another.
'Allie,' there was a tiredness to the older woman's face and voice, 'what do you want me to do? I've spent the past four years preparing you for Vancouver. You and Dan are good. Really good. Who knew that something like this was going to happen? Are you ready to spit on all that work right now, when we are so close?'
Allie looked away, feeling a twinge of guilt.
'Who, then?' her voice sounded so small, so weak.
'Robert.'
Allie flared angrily. If there was one person she truly detested, the one person who was everything she hated, it was Robert. A conceited, self-centered, egotistical young man who cared about nothing and no-one but himself. Vain, sarcastic and cruel, albeit a top-class skater, it was only understandable that Allie felt sick at the thought of ever working with him.
'I know how you feel about it, Allie,' Marie responded to her student's furious glare, 'but he's the only male here who is anywhere near as good as you are.'
'I'll go to another club. Find someone there.'
'There's no time, Allie. And besides, you've watched one another. You know each other's skills to some extent. Come on, it'll only be -'
'- two and a half months?' Allie groaned.
* * *
'You're turning right too quickly,' Robert remarked in a bored voice, 'that's why you keep on messing the support.'
'You're not picking me up high enough. Or you haven't been doing your weightlifting. Pick your favourite.'
Allie skated away, feeling her reluctant partner's eyes bore into her back. She smiled triumphantly, then turned back around and continued sweetly -
'Shall we?'
She made a circle, gaining speed as she went, then made a sharp turn and skated to Robert. He caught her waist, lifted her into the air, and spun around. Then his hands travelled down her body, and he took hold of her legs, spinning the girl around with her face merely inches away from the ice.
'It's still looking clumsy,' Marie shook her head when they were both on their feet.
'And whose fault is that?' Robert asked rhetorically, throwing a look at Allie as she bent to tighten her skates.
'I don't care whose fault that is. Sort it out, okay? Now let's try it again.'
They did. And fell.
'Allie, Robert, it's just not working. Either she's too heavy, or you're too short for her. Let's substitute a barrel, and over-back salto. See how that works out.'
Allie skated back to her starting position, waiting till Robert was by her side and holding her hands behind her. They took a slow, languid step forward, then sped up. Hands parted, they flew into the air, spinning twice and landing with the left leg at a 90-degree angle with the right. Turning, Allie skated backwards for a second, then took hold of Robert's hands and turned over her head. She landed neatly, this time in front of him.
'Excellent,' Marie concluded, 'keep that, then. Let's have the waltz bit and we're done for today.'
The music blared on as they took hands (each wincing rather childishly) and began to – and there was no other way to put this - dance. The smooth steps flowed one in the other, and for once there was no spinning, jumping, flying or catching to be done.
'Tell thanks for Daniel for me,' Robert winked and grinned at his partner as they waltzed down the rink.
'Idiot,' Allie said in a tone in which a doctor pronounces his diagnostic.
'No, really, had he not driven into a wall -'
'Someone drove into him,' Allie flushed, indignant on behalf of her friend.
'Whatever. All that matters now is that I get to go to Vancouver, and not your darling boyfriend. This was we'll win for sure.'
'How does your car fit your head?'
'Ha-ha. You are incredibly funny...'
'No, really. Your ego gets any bigger and you'll have problems getting through doors.'
'Alison,Alison, Alison,' Robert said with mock thoughtfulness, 'just admit it; you're overcome with joy at the thought of-'
'- spending three months with a person I find abhorrent?' Allie rolled her eyes, gripping his hand tighter in an attempt to hurt him. Pity Marie did not allow longer nails. 'Kind of a dubious honour, don't you find? I mean, I'd gladly watch my fan turn instead of spending one minute with you.'
'You're just besotted with me.'
'Yeah, of course,' her voice was rich with boredom, 'I am overcome with love for you, my being rejoices every time you are near me... Actually, the only emotion you stir in me is nausea.'
TO BE CONTINUED
Morning. Cold, bleary morning. Outside, grey, heavy clouds hang low over the city, threatening to release waterfalls of rain in the next few hours. Half-naked trees that lined the road outside the small, stone apartment block stood gloomily, bowing nearly to the ground with each gust of the northerly wind. Little whirlwinds carried dry leaves across the roads, tossing them aside on the sides of the streets like a woman may throw away a pair of torn stockings. Even the sunlight, weak, bleary and somehow grey, made the city appear all the more depressing.
Alison sat up and in her bed and yawned. A single glance outside made her mood as dark as the sky, and when she placed her feet onto the cold floor, she was convinced the day was not going to go well.
A hot shower, cup of tea and make-up session later, Alison threw a bad across one shoulder and closed the door behind herself. Hiding her face in a voluminous shawl, she rushed across the street and into a tall, modern, glass building, empty and quiet so early in the morning.
There were no couples in the changing room yet, so she changed in relative silence, doing her best to ignore the echoing sounds of the men doing something to the swimming-pool just next door.
Off went the heavy trousers and the two sweaters, a pair of skintight bike-shorts and a thin polo replacing them.
When she was tying the laces, her mobile rang.
'Yeah?'
'Allie, it's Dan,' a tense, male voice spoke into her ear. She placed the phone between her head and shoulder, and continued to do the laces, puling and tugging as she spoke.
'Hey. You stuck in traffic? I'm at the Centre already.'
'Allie, I – I won't be coming today.'
Her hands dropped, an eerie dread, yet unformed and vague, squirming in her stomach.
'Why? We haven't finished the programme yet, and -'
'Listen to me, please. I'm at the hospital. Some jerk crashed into me on the highway.'
'nuts. Is – is it serious?' Her throat became dry, cold sweat of dread appearing on her back.
'Looks like it, but I haven't had an X-ray yet. I can't stand on my foot, and it's twice it's normal size. I'll call Marie. Tell her we're pulling out.' His voice was strangely emotionless, as if he was merely telling her that the weather was bad.
Allie sat there, listening to beeping, for some minutes. Her entire world seemed to be collapsing around her in fragments of carefully made dreams and hopes, aspirations and desires, as she sat on the wooden bench of Sport Centre's changing room.
She had first put on figure skates at the age of six, and fell in love with the sport instantly. She'd changed many parters, won plenty of medals in junior tournaments – but it had never been enough. She aimed high – always had. Worked night and day, often coming home with unfeeling feet that resembled minced meat and with limbs covered with purple bruises. Once, she fell and broke her nose. On another occasion – her wrist. But none of that mattered – not if all that work was going to bring her closer to her ultimate goal. The Olympic gold. The title of Olympic Champion of the Vancouver Olympic Games. The one medal in her twenty-three that would make her truly happy.
Two months left. Sixty days. And her partner, her best friend, he was in the hospital. With a leg injury that was going to cost them their title.
She did not cry. She was much too strong for that. So without knowing how to react to the information, she went onto the empty rink and began to skate. Three circumferences first; slower, faster, and top speed. Then exercises. Loops. Double, then triple loops. A salto. Triple turns. Braking. Stretching.
Her body was so used to every move that it worked on autopilot. Her mind was in numb and empty as she leapt and twisted, refusing to think, to accept that she might as well give up and wait for another four years. Which would mean three years of doing nothing. It was not as if she could boast anything but her sporting achievement, and at twenty, no-one was going to let her coach.
The cold air blew through her hair, the tiny fragments of ice formed droplets on her face and around her dry eyes. Her mouth was fixed in a determined, hard line as she spun in a quarter loop, landed on one foot with perfect balance and began to gain speed for a double barrel.
'Allie?'
She landed on both feet and looked around. A lone figure was leaning against the railing.
Marie. Her trainer. Once a European champion, now her friend and mentor.
'Have you heard?' Marie asked as Allie skated up to her.
'Yeah,' Allie answered quietly (her throat hurt for some reason), then she looked her trainer in the eyes, 'so, come to tell me to pack up and go home for three years?'
'No, of course not,' the older woman smiled sadly, 'don't be silly. You're our only hope, what with Kara dropping out at the last moment. We can't afford to lose you too.'
'I can hardly go for the singles,' Allie laughed bitterly, 'bit too late for that.'
'No, you can't.'
'So Dan is coming back then?' A hope lit inside of her, 'he's okay?'
'He broke his shin, four toes and his thigh bone, Allie. He's on the operating table as we speak, and he'll probably need another four operations after that. No, he is not going to Vancouver.'
'Then what's all the 'we can't lose you' talk for? I don't need falso hope. If you're gonna tell me to go, I'll go.'
Marie looked at her with pity and understanding. Allie could have killed her then.
'We have to find you another partner, Allie,' Marie said on one breath.
Allie froze.
'Are you insane?' she rolled her eyes, 'two months before the Olympics? With an unfinished programme?'
'We'll have to work hard, yes, but -'
Allie scoffed.
'Marie, how long did it take me and Dan to sync?'
'Well, it's -'
'How long?'
Marie did not answer. She did not have to. Both knew, only too well, that at least a year was needed for partners to synchronize, to get to feel each other, to learn each other's strengths and weaknesses, to, most importantly, trust one another.
'Allie,' there was a tiredness to the older woman's face and voice, 'what do you want me to do? I've spent the past four years preparing you for Vancouver. You and Dan are good. Really good. Who knew that something like this was going to happen? Are you ready to spit on all that work right now, when we are so close?'
Allie looked away, feeling a twinge of guilt.
'Who, then?' her voice sounded so small, so weak.
'Robert.'
Allie flared angrily. If there was one person she truly detested, the one person who was everything she hated, it was Robert. A conceited, self-centered, egotistical young man who cared about nothing and no-one but himself. Vain, sarcastic and cruel, albeit a top-class skater, it was only understandable that Allie felt sick at the thought of ever working with him.
'I know how you feel about it, Allie,' Marie responded to her student's furious glare, 'but he's the only male here who is anywhere near as good as you are.'
'I'll go to another club. Find someone there.'
'There's no time, Allie. And besides, you've watched one another. You know each other's skills to some extent. Come on, it'll only be -'
'- two and a half months?' Allie groaned.
* * *
'You're turning right too quickly,' Robert remarked in a bored voice, 'that's why you keep on messing the support.'
'You're not picking me up high enough. Or you haven't been doing your weightlifting. Pick your favourite.'
Allie skated away, feeling her reluctant partner's eyes bore into her back. She smiled triumphantly, then turned back around and continued sweetly -
'Shall we?'
She made a circle, gaining speed as she went, then made a sharp turn and skated to Robert. He caught her waist, lifted her into the air, and spun around. Then his hands travelled down her body, and he took hold of her legs, spinning the girl around with her face merely inches away from the ice.
'It's still looking clumsy,' Marie shook her head when they were both on their feet.
'And whose fault is that?' Robert asked rhetorically, throwing a look at Allie as she bent to tighten her skates.
'I don't care whose fault that is. Sort it out, okay? Now let's try it again.'
They did. And fell.
'Allie, Robert, it's just not working. Either she's too heavy, or you're too short for her. Let's substitute a barrel, and over-back salto. See how that works out.'
Allie skated back to her starting position, waiting till Robert was by her side and holding her hands behind her. They took a slow, languid step forward, then sped up. Hands parted, they flew into the air, spinning twice and landing with the left leg at a 90-degree angle with the right. Turning, Allie skated backwards for a second, then took hold of Robert's hands and turned over her head. She landed neatly, this time in front of him.
'Excellent,' Marie concluded, 'keep that, then. Let's have the waltz bit and we're done for today.'
The music blared on as they took hands (each wincing rather childishly) and began to – and there was no other way to put this - dance. The smooth steps flowed one in the other, and for once there was no spinning, jumping, flying or catching to be done.
'Tell thanks for Daniel for me,' Robert winked and grinned at his partner as they waltzed down the rink.
'Idiot,' Allie said in a tone in which a doctor pronounces his diagnostic.
'No, really, had he not driven into a wall -'
'Someone drove into him,' Allie flushed, indignant on behalf of her friend.
'Whatever. All that matters now is that I get to go to Vancouver, and not your darling boyfriend. This was we'll win for sure.'
'How does your car fit your head?'
'Ha-ha. You are incredibly funny...'
'No, really. Your ego gets any bigger and you'll have problems getting through doors.'
'Alison,Alison, Alison,' Robert said with mock thoughtfulness, 'just admit it; you're overcome with joy at the thought of-'
'- spending three months with a person I find abhorrent?' Allie rolled her eyes, gripping his hand tighter in an attempt to hurt him. Pity Marie did not allow longer nails. 'Kind of a dubious honour, don't you find? I mean, I'd gladly watch my fan turn instead of spending one minute with you.'
'You're just besotted with me.'
'Yeah, of course,' her voice was rich with boredom, 'I am overcome with love for you, my being rejoices every time you are near me... Actually, the only emotion you stir in me is nausea.'
TO BE CONTINUED
;D
))