Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Endings Change Eventually

"I made the mistake of looking at my dad at that very moment, standing on top of cracking, chipped bleachers, no longer screaming, no longer tapping his chest, not looking at me, just shivering under a coin-operated heater, staring at the ceiling as if it was time to give up on me and my dreams and his dreams. I bent my knees as far as I could for the second sprint and promised myself not to let him down ever again. This time we had to cross both sides of the ice, that impossible net feeling so far away twice without stopping, always far away. The whistle blew and everything inside of me was coming out, weightless but still weighed down at the same time. Even when my rage caused me to scream and the lights filled my vision because the tears blurred my eyes, I still couldn’t keep up with everyone and Sean was already turning around, getting ready to pass me on the way back. I thought about my dad and I thought about Sean and I thought about how stupid it was to cry and I thought about how I was embarrassed and how I used to actually want to be here and how I’d left a small black smudge on the boards."

This is how I ended a story recently about a young hockey player and his emotionally abusive father. I wanted to end a story without everything getting destroyed for once but I guess you shouldn't shy away from your instincts, right?

The Boy Least Likely To - A Balloon on a Broken String