The Phantom of Ice

Falling and Failing

Christine's body slammed against the bitter, cold ice and a blunt pain resonated throughout her body, followed slowly by a gentle numbness as she lied there, feeling the deep raspy breaths escape from her mouth. Despite her whole body screaming out in an agony of embarrassment, she pulled herself up from her icy bed and skated to the edge of the rink, head hanging heavy in shame.

"Christine. what was that?" sighed an older man leaning on the waist high barrier that separated the ice rink from the real world.

"I'm sorry Brian." Christine murmured as she made a sharp turn and  grabbed barrier, stopping her blades from moving and eliminating all sound from the rink.

"You've been able to do toe loops since you were ten. what's happened to your balance? I'll tell you. You didn't keep your left leg straight and muscles tense as you landed. You need to be firm if you want to land a jump, otherwise you'll never be able to do it." He explained exasperated. Though he hid it well, Christine could tell that he thought this was beneath him. And it was. Christine had been able to do perfect toe loops  while texting her friends five years ago, but now she could rarely land one, let alone land it cleanly.

"Ok. I'll try again with that in mind." She nodded, letting go of the barrier.

"No, no. I think we should finish here." He hesitated before continuing. " Have you thought of anything you've wanted to do apart from skating?

Christine eyebrows and forehead furrowed, clearly understanding what he was implying. "No." 

"Maybe that's something you should think about. Figure skating is an expensive hobby and your parent's money will won't be able to sustain you forever if you continue it." He tried to say gently, but there was no way in which the message could have been blunted to Christine. A hobby? Brian knew full well what her intentions were with skating. Christine had no way in formulating a response, there was no way of expressing the raw, raging emotions of offense and dejection within her. "If you wish to continue skating, you will also have to find a new coach. I'm sorry but I have so many students that I no longer have the time for everyone and  your skating is not at a competitive level like my other students. You know how it is."

"Oh, ok." Christine answered quietly, still trying to comprehend what he said. She couldn't help but feel like an old computer with too much information that she could no longer process anything at all. How would she be able to find a new coach during so close to nationals? What was she going to do if she couldn't skate? She had spent 2 years searching for something to replace the thrill she got with skating with no prevail,  and in her return to her passion, she was now being told to go back and try searching again. 

"It was a pleasure coaching you Christine, you are a very nice girl." He said in farewell as he collected his belongings, not even looking back at her as he left the rink. With Brian gone, Christine let the cacophony of emotions within her explode. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes as she began to choke on sobs. She couldn't lose ice skating, not again. As though the weight of everything Brian had said physically pulled her down, she slide down the barrier and sat on the ice. The ice bit her as she sat there, but it was strangely to some degree comforting, taking some of her mind off her own degrading thought and onto the ice instead. 

"If you don't want to get frostbite, then would suggest sitting on a proper seat instead." Christine shot up immediately with a gasp, searching around the empty rink to see who had witnessed her pathetic display. "I don't think frostbite would help a figure skater much." The Smooth voice came again. Christine could clearly distinguish that it was a male's voice, yet could not find its source.

"I'm not a figure skater." she replied bitterly, adding under her breath, "at least not anymore."

"From what I could see, you show great promise. All you need is the proper guidance-"

"Thank you." Christine didn't want to hear another pitying person's peep talk about not giving up on your dreams, she had heard enough of that over the last couple of years that it made her want to become an advocate against free speech in order to prevent hearing another. "But unfortunately, as you've probably seen, I no longer have a coach and it will be national's qualifications soon, meaning that every single coach will be unavailable. I'll have to pray that someone retires after nationals in order to have a coach available. Even if by some miracle  one is available, they'll probably want to give  their time to some new, young rising star  than a failure like me." Christine felt guilty for whining to a stranger, but getting off her chest how hopeless her situation was somehow made her feel a little better. The conversation paused for a moment, making Christine anxious that maybe she had revealed to much and that the owner of the voice had just left because they felt awkward.

"I can coach you." The mysterious voice offered.