Anxious, Confused and in a Leotard

Chapter 2

The bus comes to a halt. I glare around at the confused faces- the building we pulled up in front of was not the new, modern attractive building they had told us we were going to stay in, instead it was a large old gymnasium. I squeeze mama's hand tighter, I'm scared.We all pile off the bus with kids clutching their parents hands the same way I was and march to the building were we were greeted by two large guards in Soviet uniforms. They started calling out our names in a deep scary voice-almost shouting them at us as if we were the numbers of cattle being called out. As they called out the children's names, you could see proud parents and even some proud but scared children saying their last goodbye's to their loved ones before being pushed into the hall.

'Anastasia Zakharova' shouts the guard.I'm stiff, I can't move, but a nudge from my mother knocks me out of this haze and I turn around to see her proud face. She gives me a hug and a kiss- I savor it for as long as I can before she pushes me away into the 'scary room' which I had called it.

There we stood in lines and were stripped from our layers of clothing exposing our cold, pale skin to the examiners. One by one they walked down the line and around us like a pack of wolves getting ready to pounce on its prey. Most of them were men, but some women too with stern faces and no expression with a pen and paper in their hands- writing notes about our bodies like butchered meat. This went on for at least half an hour until they all gathered into the corner discussing in whispered voices.There we stood in the meantime shaking, scared and confused not moving- still in our thoughts. They then all came back and stood in a line in front of us.

They then stared calling out our names again but with a number from either 1-5 in it. 'Anastasia Zakharova four' shouted the examiner.What does this mean? I wonder- but I just stand there still- consumed into my own silence until we are told to go to the door with our number on it in 5 minutes.

Like mice, we scurry to our assigned door. There we were greeted by a short, muscly lady with blonde hair. 'Welcome to the rhythmic gymnastic testing room, here we will find future olympians!'

We all stare around at each other wondering who it will be.