On Ice

Author Note:

I had such a spark of inspiration tonight that I couldn’t ignore it, so this is the very long introductory, first chapter of my new project. I will fully admit that I have used creative license with the description of real places and things, if you get my drift. So, if you see anything that’s glaringly not right, I’m sorry, I did my best. Questions and comments are appreciated. Happy reading!

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Friday, October 5, 2012

From my position at the back of the line, I felt my stomach rumble uncomfortably. For two months I’d managed to hide my weaknesses, but as the line moved forward I realized that one of the bigger ones was about to rear its ugly head. With every step I felt the knots of panic beginning to form, my heart begin to race and my breath turn into the quick pants that always signalled a granddaddy of an attack. I fisted my hands and shoved them deeply into my jean pockets to hide the fact that I was trembling like a leaf. I gritted my teeth to cut off the sound of my distress as I was forced from behind to take another step forward.

Come on brain, think of something, anything! Rational thought was becoming difficult and my carefully compiled mental list of excuses was jumbled by the absolute terror that try as I might, I still hadn’t managed to get under control. Another shove forward from behind shot a new burst of panic into my system. I could clearly see Miss Fleming now, clipboard gripped in one hand and pencil in the other as she checked off each students name as they passed. My fight or flight instinct was rapidly relaying the message that we should run, run away far and as fast as we can.

I was too close, my brain ceased to function and all I could do was stare mutely at the portal that was one of my greatest fears. Tearing my eyes away, already feeling the hot shame building in my eyes, I tried to latch on to something anything that would make me avoid what I knew was coming. My lips quivered and the words came out almost soundlessly, “Miss Fleming I don’t feel so well.”

She looked up from her clipboard, her eyes peering over the top rim of her glasses as she studied me. With a disgusted sigh, she pointedly looked at the watch that was strapped to her right wrist. Her lips pursed and her eyes rolled heavenward in one of those God-why-me sorts of expressions.

“Cally, you have thirty seconds to get on the bus. We’re already behind schedule and if you don’t go on this field trip you’ll risk summer school,” she informed me brusquely.

I grimaced as she mangled my name, again, but didn’t bother to correct her. Instead I felt light headed considering the three steps beyond the door of the bus. I heard murmurs behind me from my classmates wondering what the hold up was about and I flushed with embarrassment. It was impossible to hide my tremors now, feeling the muscles in my throat constrict I tried one last time. It came out as a thready whisper, “Please Miss Fleming, please don’t make me get on the bus!”

Her patience with my stalling completely evaporated. Miss Fleming’s face was pinched with irritation and she jabbed the clipboard toward the bus door. My heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest. Peripherally I could see the faces of my fellow classmates pressed against the windows. Terror literally throbbed in the very centre of me and I felt a cold sweat bead up along every inch of my skin. A rough jab to my shoulder set me off balance and careening nearer to the object of my horror. I couldn’t suppress the scream or keep myself from jerking away as if burned, before backing slowly inch by inch away as though waiting for it to strike. Tears streamed from my eyes and for once I was utterly happy that the panic had taken over so I couldn’t feel the flames of humiliation at the startled faces or the laughter of the other students.