Frozen Stars

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐚
I am the first person to die from humiliation. I just fell from my attempt to complete a triple axel. My face collided so hard with the ice that I might need a correction of it. I am highly aware of my bleeding forehead and the fact that I embarrassed myself in front of the whole figure skating and hockey team. Both. This might be, I actually couldn't hope for it more at this point, the death of me.

I lift my head, the piercing pain shooting through my skull. Great. A concussion on top of everything else. This is exactly what I need. Just as I thought my life couldn't get more complicated, this had to happen as well. When do I ever get a break? No, better question, does a human ever get a break from life? With death. I guess I'll have to wait until someone throws me off a cliff or something.

A groan escapes my mouth as I accept my fate and smash my head against the ice once more. I don't really care anymore. I know that my coach doesn't give a flying fuck about my health and will wait until I finally get up. Quick question—how the hell am I supposed to get up when my vision is black? Like, I get it, I'm supposed to skate, but I don't think that's possible when I'm not able to see anything.

God, this is mortifying. Fingers crossed that nobody comes running over to me and gives me their even more humiliating pity. No, thanks. I'd rather continue laying on this very cold and hard ice until I die, thank you very much.

It's time for me to get up. I shouldn't, my head is still throbbing like crazy, but if I don't start skating soon, I am kicked out of this team sooner than I can blink. Slowly, I place my palms on the ice and use them to push myself up. My feet stumble on the suddenly slippery surface. I know it's always slippery, but for someone like me, a professional figure skater, gliding on ice couldn't be easier.

I blink, taking in my surroundings. The rink, white ice, some screens on the sides, rows of red seats and an exit. Just checking because it's not impossible for me to land somewhere unknown with my amazing thinking skills. For clarification, I don't have any thinking skills. I do everything without thinking about it further. If there's a thought popping up in my head, I don't take long to make that thought reality.

Right now, I'm thinking of cookies. When was the last time I ate cookies? Yesterday evening. That is the longest time in which I haven't eaten cookies. Not good. My stomach needs that sweet treat after all the work and stress pressing down on me. I'll call Nova later and ask her to be my movie evening buddy. She won't say no to that. Thankfully, she's as addicted to cookies as I am. There's a reason for me referring to her as my twin.

My coach claps her hands, waking me up from my trance. "Ella, get going. I wanna see that triple axel again. This time, try not to fall."

I hate that woman sometimes. She can be as sweet as a puppy, but at the same time is a stubborn bitch. Her thinking skills, being the complete opposite of mine, go as far as the difference from the moon to the earth. If she has set her mind to something, she'll never let go of that. If she'd be stupid enough to tell me to do two triple axels in a row, I'd have to do it and she'd have to deal with the consequences. Which would be paying a surgery to close my head. Surely, I would die the next time I crash onto ice. It hurts more than newbies expect.

I take a deep breath and start skating again. The small blood stain melting into the rock hard ice is giving me goosebumps. Alright, maybe I do need to get off the rink soon. It's not a good idea for me to continue skating. But I can't let my coach down. This is my dream, this is what I am meant to be. This is what I've been doing my whole life, the only thing I'm good at. Giving up would be out of the question. My parents would be disappointed and would definitely disown me. Which isn't something I'd like, personally.

The ice slides away under my skates, the metal of the blades crossing the frozen water. I'm not a person to be out of breath easily, which comes to my advantage. I could skate for hours, which I do, and still act as if I was totally fine. Ice skating is my hobby after all. I wouldn't quit, not even if I wanted. The anxiety of being a disappointment to my parents, coach, and teammates would be horrifying. It'd bring me into a depressive episode, that's for sure.