As you stand in the cold rain, you watch droplets of water racing down your long, wavy brown hair that's always falling in front of your light blue eyes. You contemplate the events of the last fifty days (you've been counting).
You have gotten ever closer to her, you remember the forty-fifth day of you talking to her. You were sitting on the familiar wooden bench, her head on your shoulder, her long, curly, light brown hair running down your shoulder, clinging to the soft material of your light green fleece.
“Don't ever leave me,” she murmurs in your ear.
You slowly look down at your old casio, not knowing how to react.
You noticed that it was time for you to go a while ago and yet you remain seated not wanting to lose this moment.
Three minutes later you slowly stand up, making sure to not move the wooden bench, saying something along the lines of “I've really got to go, I'm so sorry.”
She responds with a gentle smile and the words, “Don't worry.”
As you make your way up the staircase running through the building and out the front door she stops you and tells you that her mom is waiting for her around the corner. She hugs you and you feel her small head pressing against your chest, you hug back softly, making sure you don't squeeze too hard, slowly you whisper to he,
Readily punctuating every word. “I love you, please take care of yourself” she looks up at you, a gentle smile forming on her lips.
As she starts walking away, you gently take her by the arm and pull her back for another hug. A soft smile spreads across your face as you watch her walk away.
You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, could be anyone, from your parents to… her. You pull it out of your pocket, hiding it in your worn through denim jacket, making sure no rain falls on the screen. You see her name, written at the top of the screen. You thoughtfully open the snap expecting a smile.
She's crying, you feel something crack in your chest, hurting for her, not knowing how to help.
You send her a message, asking what's wrong.
She answers with the usual. Those two words carried such an immense amount of pain and sadness.
You reply, “Can I help somehow?”
She responds with the two simple letters, “No.”
You stand there, thinking about her soft smile, as you did whenever you got sad, thinking about the hug you shared on the 45th day. You imagine her standing in front of you, you gently take her by the shoulders and pull her close, trying to comfort her. You feel her tears moisten your faded black sweatshirt.
You pocket your phone, slowly slip on your headphones, and continue walking into the darkness.
As you approach the pool you get nervous with excitement about seeing her in a few minutes, even if she's sad, even if it's only for a few moments. You were happy to even see her even if it was from afar.
You smile as soon as you see her, with a grin spreading across her face, you tell her that she looks like a little penguin waddling along. The moment she walks up to you, she smacks your shoulder and lets out a small laugh.
You walk with her to the circular cement guard rail, you sit down and she continues standing, you look up into her beautiful face. You say something along the lines of how tired you are and she pulls you into a tight hug, your head pressing into her stomach.
You descend slowly down the stairs into the depths of the swimming pool building, you walk to the all too familiar ninth changing room.
You slowly drop your bags onto the grey plastic bench, wince as you hear your possessions move around. You pick up your dark grey school bag and hang it next to your jacket. As you look down you see a light brown curly hair stuck to the faded material of your jacket. You pick it up and look at it, shuffling through all of your memories together.
As you change you brace yourself against the cold breeze of the wind rushing through the pool, into the changing rooms, up the stairs and out the front door. You drop your towel back onto the plastic covered bench and pick up your red Nike bag, and start making your way through the dark grey cement hallway, lined with wood on one side and cold hard cement on the other.
Together you descend into the changing rooms, you hug her one last time before you part ways. You change as fast as you can, just so you can talk to her before your training.
You rush out of the changing room passing through the cold ceramic room containing the showers. As you walk out of the showers you speed up your pace, as soon as you notice her absence you slow your pace to a leisurely walk. You wave a friendly hello to your coach, walk to the staircase and sit down waiting.
You see her walk out, as beautiful as ever, her curly, argent hair flowing down her shoulders, she walks up to you with a smile and starts complaining about her swimsuit, saying it made her look bad. You look her over and can only think about her eyes and her beautiful smile.
You assure her that she looks as beautiful as ever, give her one last hug and hastily make your way to your side of the swimming pool.
You do some stretches, still thinking about that smile. You tie up your hair, put on your cap and goggles, and dive into the depths of the pool.
As you swim, with each stroke you look in her direction, a soft smile spreading across your face anytime you see her. What feels like an eternity later, you drag yourself out of the cold pool, you turn around to look at her, a grin on your face.
You almost run towards the changing rooms, hoping to get one last hug before she leaves, and you’ll only get to see her tomorrow. You jump into your clothes. Racing up the stairs against your heart.
You stand at the top of the staircase and look down the stairs, you see her, walk calmly out of the changing rooms, as she starts walking up the stairs, she sees you and a soft smile spreads across her face. The moment she reaches the top of the staircase you start walking towards the glass double doors, as you walk outside you pull her into your embrace, she hugs back, sending microscopic electrical shocks wherever her skin touches yours. You look down at her beautiful face and tell her you’ll see her tomorrow.
As you walk through the colder than usual ceramic shower area, you notice that you are early, as you walk out onto the pool deck, you slowly walk towards the staircase. You wait until you see her, she comes up to you and you exchange a few hasty meaningless words. Saddened by the realisation that the conversation has ended, you hastily make your way towards your side of the pool, you put on your goggles and look out onto the calm, flat surface of the pool.
You stand and think about the last fifty days, you take one last look at her, her light brown, curly hair and her contagious smile.
You take your final step off the deck and plunge into the darkness of the pool.
Envoyé: 09:40 Tue, 14 March 2023 by : Mazourine Matvey age : 16