Hung Up
A piece written for 15_minute_fic
The prompt word was Shave.
Shaving is a right of passage, for boys and girls alike. It shows that one is growing up and getting older. It means one may accept more responsilbity. As she stood in the shower, the water castrading around her, she wondered when she would ever pick up one of those brightly colored razors and shave her legs before going on a date the way her older sister did.
She felt as if she was behind the curve ball. As if the world was against her. All the people in her class were shaving, boys and girls alike. Maybe it was because she had skated for so long. She wasn’t sure. She didn’t love skating the way she used to after she came back from her knee injury. She wouldn’t call it giving up. She called it stepping away from something she just didn’t feel the same passion for. People were allowed to do that with their lives, step away from things.
As she scrubbed her legs, her fingers graised over the scar from the surgery, a long scar. There was another on the back of her knee as well. She usually wore pants so no one would see it. Althouh in the winter it blended well with her skin. But come summer, the time where her legs began to tan, it was more defined. People didn’t usually ask her questions about it if they saw it, but she hated talking about.
She could remember the accident as if it happened yesterday. She had been doing a move she had performed a hundred and twnety times before. She knew the shating like the back of her hand, but something happened, something went wrong and she destoryed her knee, she destroyed her career. She destroyed the thing that might have put her through college without her worrying about a thing. To this day she still wasn’t completely sure what had gone wrong, even after she had watched the films.
She rinsed the water from her body and turned the taps off. Maybe one day she would actually pick up one of those razors and shave her legs. She was pretty sure she was more worried about shaving then she was about having breasts or getting her period. Why she had no idea, that was the type of person she was though. The one who worried about the things that no one could see. Or maybe the razors made her feel closer to the friends she once had when she was skating. The older girls used to get together in one hotel room and shave together before a competition.
She sighed as she reached out and grabbed her towel. She wrapped it around her body before stepping out onto the cool tile floor. For some reason, she always stepped with her uninjured leg first, just in case. It was a habbit she got into after recovering from the surgery. She wiped off the mirror and smiled at herself. She had the world ahead of her. She had so much to look forward to, she didn’t need skating to be someone. She was her own person without skating.
She brushed her hair out and ventured into her room. She closed the door and leaned against it, taking a deep breathe, bracing herself for what she was about to see. All the trophies, all the metals, all the awards that sat on the shelf. When her parents asked if she wanted to get rid of them, to pack them away, she had said no. She wasn’t ready to let go. She flung her towel off her body and grabbed a box that was sitting in the corner. She began to clear the shelves of anything involving skating, anything she had ever won from it. There was no longer a need to look at those items day in and day out. Within moments she finished. She grabbed a roll of tape and sealed the box shut before pushing it into her closet. Maybe when the time was right she would look at those items again, but for now, for now if she never saw them again, she would still feel liberated from that.
The prompt word was Shave.
Shaving is a right of passage, for boys and girls alike. It shows that one is growing up and getting older. It means one may accept more responsilbity. As she stood in the shower, the water castrading around her, she wondered when she would ever pick up one of those brightly colored razors and shave her legs before going on a date the way her older sister did.
She felt as if she was behind the curve ball. As if the world was against her. All the people in her class were shaving, boys and girls alike. Maybe it was because she had skated for so long. She wasn’t sure. She didn’t love skating the way she used to after she came back from her knee injury. She wouldn’t call it giving up. She called it stepping away from something she just didn’t feel the same passion for. People were allowed to do that with their lives, step away from things.
As she scrubbed her legs, her fingers graised over the scar from the surgery, a long scar. There was another on the back of her knee as well. She usually wore pants so no one would see it. Althouh in the winter it blended well with her skin. But come summer, the time where her legs began to tan, it was more defined. People didn’t usually ask her questions about it if they saw it, but she hated talking about.
She could remember the accident as if it happened yesterday. She had been doing a move she had performed a hundred and twnety times before. She knew the shating like the back of her hand, but something happened, something went wrong and she destoryed her knee, she destroyed her career. She destroyed the thing that might have put her through college without her worrying about a thing. To this day she still wasn’t completely sure what had gone wrong, even after she had watched the films.
She rinsed the water from her body and turned the taps off. Maybe one day she would actually pick up one of those razors and shave her legs. She was pretty sure she was more worried about shaving then she was about having breasts or getting her period. Why she had no idea, that was the type of person she was though. The one who worried about the things that no one could see. Or maybe the razors made her feel closer to the friends she once had when she was skating. The older girls used to get together in one hotel room and shave together before a competition.
She sighed as she reached out and grabbed her towel. She wrapped it around her body before stepping out onto the cool tile floor. For some reason, she always stepped with her uninjured leg first, just in case. It was a habbit she got into after recovering from the surgery. She wiped off the mirror and smiled at herself. She had the world ahead of her. She had so much to look forward to, she didn’t need skating to be someone. She was her own person without skating.
She brushed her hair out and ventured into her room. She closed the door and leaned against it, taking a deep breathe, bracing herself for what she was about to see. All the trophies, all the metals, all the awards that sat on the shelf. When her parents asked if she wanted to get rid of them, to pack them away, she had said no. She wasn’t ready to let go. She flung her towel off her body and grabbed a box that was sitting in the corner. She began to clear the shelves of anything involving skating, anything she had ever won from it. There was no longer a need to look at those items day in and day out. Within moments she finished. She grabbed a roll of tape and sealed the box shut before pushing it into her closet. Maybe when the time was right she would look at those items again, but for now, for now if she never saw them again, she would still feel liberated from that.