The feeling of landing the perfect triple axel, the feeling of falling on a horrid triple loop, the feeling of the ghost cold air pushing against my face as I soar across the ice. The best of all though is the feeling of being on the open ice with no one else on it but you and the judges staring at you and an arena full of people chanting your name and screaming. That is what I thought my life was going to be like, but boy was I wrong, although that is exactly my life on the ice. My life on the ice is probably the only thing I really truly love with all my heart. That and my coach, Caroline Browningdale, she is the most terrific coach ever, even when she is constantly yelling at me to get up and keep going. ¨Emmy you could have landed that
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You can meet me here on Thursday at 3:30 if you really want lessons.” Caroline told me. I was so excited for Thursday I literally could not wait I rode my bike there every single day after school. By Thursday I was more than ready for my lesson.
Thursday morning came and I was so excited I hadn't told anyone about my skating. I put on my favorite shirt which was bright pink with neon green polka dots all over paired with my favorite pair of of blue ripped at the knee jeans. I also put my hair into two braids that my grandma taught me how to do after one of our silent dinners of me talking about how cool this girls hair was in my class.
“So today I am going back to the ice rink that Maya had her birthday party at and a nice, tall, pretty lady is going to do a ice skating lesson with me!” I exclaimed loud and proud during breakfast.
“You are WHAT?!” dad shout. I didn’t respond, I did not know what was so wrong with ice skating. Actually I knew that there was no problem with ice skating him and the evil bottles are the problem. He lashed out anyway, he took the spatula he was using to make himself eggs and it began- he picked me up turned me around and repeatedly whacked me with “the weapon.” At least he didn't pick up the knife he was slicing the strawberries
You can meet me here on Thursday at 3:30 if you really want lessons.” Caroline told me. I was so excited for Thursday I literally could not wait I rode my bike there every single day after school. By Thursday I was more than ready for my lesson.
Thursday morning came and I was so excited I hadn't told anyone about my skating. I put on my favorite shirt which was bright pink with neon green polka dots all over paired with my favorite pair of of blue ripped at the knee jeans. I also put my hair into two braids that my grandma taught me how to do after one of our silent dinners of me talking about how cool this girls hair was in my class.
“So today I am going back to the ice rink that Maya had her birthday party at and a nice, tall, pretty lady is going to do a ice skating lesson with me!” I exclaimed loud and proud during breakfast.
“You are WHAT?!” dad shout. I didn’t respond, I did not know what was so wrong with ice skating. Actually I knew that there was no problem with ice skating him and the evil bottles are the problem. He lashed out anyway, he took the spatula he was using to make himself eggs and it began- he picked me up turned me around and repeatedly whacked me with “the weapon.” At least he didn't pick up the knife he was slicing the strawberries