The Eleventh Hour

Chapter 5

I awoke with a start on Saturday morning. I was unable to move – it felt like my back was stuck to the bed. I gently unlocked my arms that were tensed by my sides. Ouch. My whole body was stiff and achey. What time was it? I glanced at my alarm clock grumpily – it was 06:49.

I sat up slowly as my eyes continued to try to focus. I stretched and winced, I really was stiff. I rubbed my eyes and got up to go to the toilet.

When I was done, I subconsciously stripped off and got in the shower. My head was still aching sleepily, I felt like a zombie.

As soon as the hot water hit my aching muscles they relaxed instantly. I’d woken up considerably too, and I realised I’d had yet another one of those weird dreams last night. That might have been the cause of my aching muscles.

I dreamt I was running – just running. The setting’s always the same, dark and rainy, like there’d just been a heavy spout of rainfall. I’m always running down a street, the same street at night. I don’t know whether there are houses or shops or anything else to my sides, I never look at them. But I know there are no streetlights. Oddly, I thought the layout had a 1920’s feel to it.

I’ve only had these dreams a few times in the last few months, they don’t mean anything, nothing ever happens. The only odd thing about it is it’s recurring.

I don’t know what I’m running from or to; I’ve never felt any emotion. I’m not sure if that makes it weirder or not. Maybe I need to research it.

I cut the water off with a sigh. It was time to get ready for the most important day of my life.

 ~

“Crap, crap, crap!”

I rested my head on my steering wheel. It was 13:49, and I was stuck in a traffic jam. I had eleven minutes to get to the Armitage centre, get changed, get warmed up and on the pitch, ready. It didn’t really look like that was going to happen.

And I’d done so well with timing! If it wasn’t for whatever was going on in front of me, I’d have been at the Armitage fifteen minutes ago. But instead, I’m at a standstill.

But not even my panic and frustration could kill this high that I was feeling right now. I’d done my police interview and roll plays, and I’d loved every minute of it. I was still buzzing from how surprisingly well I impressed myself – I was a jittering ball of nerves in the waiting room ready to go in, but as soon as the interview started, I relaxed immensely. It just felt so natural. I know I gave it my all, I was honest, I was myself. Now I just have to hope for the best.

However, my luck ceased the second I stepped out of police headquarters. Well, the second I drove out. I drove into this. I don’t know what’s happened to make the traffic this heavy, but the reality is, it was. I was going to let everybody down.

I glanced ahead emotionlessly at the sea of traffic in front of me, I could be here for hours.

Just then, by some miracle, the traffic started moving. A glimmer of hope washed through me. I was only a five minute’s drive away from the Armitage. I’d have to skip the warm up, but if I changed quickly I could still be on the pitch ready to play within ten minutes.

I ironically broke the speed limit in the short time I arrived at the Armitage. I had seven minutes to change, which I managed to do in my car. I hopped out with my stick and kit bag and sprinted towards the pitch.

When I arrived, it was far more crowded than I expected. The stands were completely full of people, and the sidelines were just as rammed. As I approached, I heard cheering – then realised all eyes were on me. I frowned as I warily approached closer. Are they cheering at me? Or are they doing it as a pisstake because I’m so late? I told our coach, Coach Christie I’d be later than everyone else but the look of relief on her face when she saw me was evident. “Lola! Thank god.”