Shattered Ice

1

It was supposed to be an immeasurable day, with the sun shining, a slight breeze and a beautiful outfit for the competition. The stadium was packed out and ready to see the performance of my life. To my dismay, the day wasn't going to go as well as it had started. It had turned into something far, far worse.

...

In ice skating, a jump can either make or break you. Sometimes, if you fall, you can get back up and continue with your performance. If you're lucky, people will forget about your slip up and applaud you on your success. But other times...other times you aren't always so fortunate. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't, and it broke me.

It made me wonder how my life had spiralled out of control so quickly. How one minute I could have been on top of the world and within a second, it all suddenly came crashing down. It was as though none of it had meant anything. None of mattered. All that work and in that short amount of time, I'd lost it. All of it. Now there's no chance of restoring it. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find the will power to get back on my feet. I'd simply fallen, and there was no way for me to get back up again.

"Everly?" The sudden, soothing voice shook me out of my daze, and my eyes cleared up. Instead of seeing the ordeal that had ended my short-lived career, I found the woman that was trying to help me through it all.

"Sorry?" My psychiatrist gave me a knowing smile, one that said; 'I know you aren't listening to me and I know you don't want to be here'.

"Did you call him back?" She asked politely - her voice frustratingly smooth, the kind that could put you to sleep. I suppose she found the perfect career for herself. She was the stereotypical psychiatrist, you know, knee-length skirt, hideous blouse, glasses and clipboard with a notepad and pen. Focusing back on what she had just asked, I shook my head. No way, I wouldn't call him back. I couldn't, not after what happened. I'd crumble. Fall to pieces. Then I really wouldn't be able to pull myself together. I was barely hanging on as of now. How could I be expected to call him and tell everyone that it was all okay? That all had been forgiven? It wasn't okay, I hadn't forgiven, and a phone call wasn't going to change that. I wasn't sure it ever would.

"I think you should give him a call, Everly. It could do you some good to hear from him again," she suggested. "Who knows, maybe you could even rekindle your relationship. Maybe even go back to how things used to be." I remained silent, refusing even to acknowledge what she had said. Go back to how things used to be? Rekindled relationship? Who said I even wished for that to happen? Maybe I don't want to hear from him again. Perhaps I want to pretend he never even existed.

"It could do both of you some good," she further prodded. She might as well hold onto a stick and poke her patients. I scoffed at her words.

"From what I've heard, he's doing alright."

"Okay...well, don't you think you should at least check in? Call him, Everly. Talk to him. Do you think talking to him will give you the freedom you need to come to terms with what happened?" When I stayed quiet, staring at my favourite pulled thread of carpet, she coughed. I looked up and watched as she removed her glasses. Oh Lord, here we go.

"It's been a year, Everly. Don't you think it's time?" I stared down at my lap. People always claimed that time could heal even the worst wounds, but I'm starting to believe that it's just something people say to make themselves feel as though things have improved, even when they haven't.

"I can't. The last time I heard his voice, I was there again and...I felt it all, felt everything I felt the first time," I admitted as hurt began to consume my chest, almost threatening to burst from my chest, much like it did the day of the competition. My eyes watered slightly.