Blue

01

Juliette Horan

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

My fingers tap up and down on the grip of my stick, counting again.

I look up at the goal, about fifty feet away. I have ten balls lined up in front of me, parallel to the goal.

I take a deep breath in, seeing the sun start to rise in the distance behind the goal. I grip my stick harder, putting each finger in place one by one.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

I pull my arms back, winding up my stick before my drive. I swing it back down with all the strength I have, hitting each ball in the line as fast and as accurately as I can.

Without even looking up, I hear ten hard slams from the plywood in the goal, each ball going directly where I wanted them to.

I roll my shoulders back, stretching out my arms as those ten balls signify the end of my own early morning practice.

I drop my stick onto the turf, my hand flexing and fingers moving up and down as I do so.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

This is the only moment of peace I will have today. Every single morning without fail, you will find me here before the sun comes up. This field is my safe place, one of the only places in the entire world that I am 100% myself.

I hear the birds chirping from the trees as I walk over to the goal to collect all ten of my blue field hockey balls. A few cars driving by in the distance as the rest of the city begins to wake up.

I sigh, preparing myself for the rest of the day ahead of me. At least I got my tranquil morning at the field before the chaos that today will bring.

I can feel the nagging thoughts in the back of my head, shaking my hands out to calm myself down.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.