The Taste of Freedom

Chapter One

The pool tiles seemed like a blur under me. I must be stream- lined I thought. Maybe I was a penguin in my past life. Water skimmed past half my face as I took another deep breath. The air stunk of chlorine.

As my head sunk back into the water the quick glimpse I'd had of the crowd above displayed itself on the tiles below me. Of course the other racers couldn't see what I was seeing, this was my imagination. The only thing that drove me to finish the race. I could see mum standing on the bleachers cheering her heart out. Hands cupped round her mouth, trying to make her voice as loud as possible. She was certainly doing a good job, I could practically feel her voice vibrating off the pool walls, and that was in the deep end.

One metre from the end "Spin!", I commanded myself in my head. As my muscled legs pushed of the wall, hard as they possibly could, I began to feel forceful. The feeling had me flowing with the current as my hands worked with the water to become one.

"Aaarrrphh", I took another deep breath. This time the vision that flashed in the water below me was of coach. He walked with me beside the pool. I was in the end lane so I he was constantly visible as I pulled my head from the water. His face lowered until it was nearly level with the pool. Any moment now and I thought he'd dive in and swim with me. His billowing voice boomed through my head. Sometimes I wish it would go in one side and out the other, but it never worked like that with him. Coach worked me hard. Though sometimes I feel as though the life is being sucked out of me. It's become routine for me to swim. Get in the pool, move with the water and become one with it, that's what he always says. He's one of the best coachs in all the whole city. Others would die to have him as a coach. I say 'others' because I don't want him as mine. Don't get me wrong, coach is great, but I started swimming for a reason. That reason being my love for swimming. I never signed up for this hell.

I signed up for swimming because the feeling that the water gave me when it rushed past my skin was unimaginable for others. The tingles I got and the surge of energy that only made me go faster are what I truly love. Not this. These endless, early mornings are becoming too tedious. Left arm, pull, right arm, pull, head up and down then again, swim. The tingles are beginning to slowly vacate my body. The energy that the water gives me is running out as I grow more and more tired by the day. I want my life back.

Looking down at the tiles once more, I decide this is my last race. "One, Two, Three, turn!", I commanded myself again as I reached the end of the pool. The race is nearing it's end, as is my competitive swimming career. I must win this last one. Not just for me, but for coach, mum and dad, for I know if dad was here this is what he would want.

If dad were here with us all he'd be cheering just as hard as mum and coach. He'd always wanted for me to become a swimmer. However if there is one thing I remember him saying, it was " Mel, I may want you to be a swimmer, but more than that, I want you to be happy. Happiness is the key to success and without it, all that follows is failure. What I'm saying is, before I die I want you to know that you don't need to feel you have to swim for me. Do what makes you happy, don't die regretting all the time you lost, like I did." Those were his last words to me before the cancer subdued his body and took his life right infront of my very eyes. The words replayed over and over in my head making me realise this last race was for him and his happiness, not mine.

My arms and legs moved rhythmically towards the finish line. The were playing the tunes to what must have been the worlds fastest song. As my hand hit the end of the pool the crowds roar from the bleachers was what gave me the energy to yank myself from the steel cold water. I doubt it was steel cold, but that last race had drained my all of my energy and had turned my heart to ice. All I had to do was receive my last gold medal and then I'd be gone like the wind. Swept off my feet and into my nice warm bed. I wasn't going to get up early tomorrow. I'm going to put up a fight, whether people like it or not. I will do what makes me happy.