Skating with My Family, an Original Story

Hey guys, this is Abi here,

And I have a couple of story ideas, but I'm not sure what to write about.

I have a couple of ideas... okay, I got it!

I hope you enjoy this, because it's centred around something I found a love for in the last couple of months:

Ice-skating!

Enjoy!

Skating With My Family, an Original Story

I pull out of the drive-way, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. I take a deep breath, and try to focus on my daughter, and how excited she is for this experience.

When I'd really rather be going anywhere else, if I'm honest.

Trying not to think about things I don't want to think about, I focus on my driving, knowing that I'll know where to go due to muscle memory.

"What's that darling?" I answer to my daughter, after missing a question she asked me.

"I said," she speaks louder, so I can hear her, "why did you stop skating, Mum?

And it all comes rushing back in a blur: somebody crying frantically, rushing down a hospital bed, moving too fast to take anything-anything at all-in, except for the fact that my mother is in trouble, and nobody, not me, not my dad, is able to help her.

"Help her, please." I near scream at the doctor that's moving the cart down the corridor.

But then the cart is gone, and I can only turn to my dad. He looks stressed, but calm.

"Don't worry," he takes my hand and gives it a squeeze, "They'll do the best they can."

But their best wasn't good enough. Because my mother died. 19 hours later.

That's the reason I quit. Because I used to be a professional skater. And my mother was my coach.

Skating runs in our family. It was what my grandmother did, and my mother, and then me, at the grand old age of four. Our family had never skated at the Olympics, but that was our goal. Skating was in my blood. And all the blood sweat and tears that I'd put into my performance, my technique and the moves over the years had nearly been worth it. Because it was at the Olympic qualifiers that my mum had collapsed.

After she died, I did nothing but sleep for a month. Until one day, when I thought enough is enough, and I picked up my skating bag, and made for the door.

I won't tell you about that day, but let's just say I haven't been skating since.

Catching sight of my daughter in the mirror, playing with her mini skate key-ring, I can't help but smile.

* * * * * * * * *

At first glimpse, it's incredible bright. Before I can make track of anything, the memories come flooding back. The changing rooms with the ambitious (sometimes jealous) and passionate girls, all striving for the same goals; the bathrooms where we all made up our hair, our make-up before and after practise. Then I set my eyes on the ice rink, and I can practically see the hours of strenuous workout: learning back-ward skating, spins, my first partnering, learning lifts. But then I see my mother, and the lump is back; and the other memories threaten to overwhelm.

But, seeing my daughter's face, I take a huge gulp and plaster a smile on my face.

She can see what I'm doing though, and she looks me dead in the eye, her face a hard look of seriousness and says,

"You okay, Mum?" And I can't break down, not in front of my daughter.

"Yes hun, I'm fine." And then her beautiful smile is back, and inside I breath a sigh of relief.

"Then lets go sign in." And she pulls me in the direction of the check in counter.

* * * * * * * * *

I see my daughter, braving the ice for the first time. And it's a miracle to see. She just looks so small and significant, it's wonderful to have seen her take her first steps on the ice. But there's no way I'm stepping on myself.

Hayley...

I turn, certain I heard someone say my name.

Hayley... join her...

I see my daughter, having the time of her life, and then, as innocent as a daisy, she trips and falls. Before I can even think about going to help her, she's up and skating again. My girl, I think, proud that she's started her legacy.

Without me.

Hayley...

I look down at my skates, just slightly peeking out of my dirty old skating bag.

I look back at my daughter.

I yank on my old skates and, before I know it, I'm on the ice, picking up speed, just like I used to.

And it's as easy as breathing.

And then I scope my daughter into my arms, and as she turns slightly and sees that it's me, a high peal of laughter escapes out of her little body.

"This is what it feels like with a good partner!" I squeal, as we race round the rink, almost like flying.

And she gives me this look, that's larger than life, and she utters, very quietly, so that only I can hear.

"I love skating, Mum."

And I utter, "I love it too."

Okay! That was my "Skating With My Family". A short story that's been bubbling in my brain for some time now. I hope you enjoyed it!

Okay! That it, and that's going to do it for this post! I hope you have a good weekend, and I will see you all on Monday!

Byeeeeeee!

-Abi xxxxx