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Mythia is eighteen years old. She committed suicide. This is Peter writing. This is the same date that we met, on Christmas. She vanished just as the year ended.***“Mithya Pai, 18 years old, won gold in the ISU Four Continents Competition for team US! Do you have anything to say to the world?” That was what I never got to hear…***I waited endlessly under the Christmas tree until my eyelids finally couldn’t hold it together and dropped. My only memory that Christmas Eve was a “swoosh” sound that swept through my ears. As I woke up, sunlight shone through the big window panes and onto my face. I lazily flipped my body around, and saw a present that wasn’t there before…***On the way to the ice rink, I thought back on excitedly opening the gift and finding out it was a pair of ice skating shoes. I tried it on, and it fit my feet perfectly. Then, a beautiful letter slipped onto the floor. I picked it up and read it: Dear Mithya, I’m assuming you already delightfully opened up the present as you’re reading this. I’ll tell you the truth directly – you’ve been chosen to be one of the next best ice skaters of this generation. If you pass the test after one week of training, you will make it to the national team. Meet me at the community ice rink at 9 am.&nbsp; Santa I’ve been skating for two years now, but only for fun. The next best skater? I’ve never thought about it. I’ve only dreamed of being in the Four Continent Competition after watching Yuzuru Hanyu, the best skater ever, perform at the Four Continent Competition last weekend with my mom and dad.&nbsp; As I arrived, three other little girls and two boys prepared themselves beside the ice rink. I quickly took out the new pair of shoes and started wearing them.&nbsp; “Wow! I’m guessing your favorite color is pink!” A girl said as she looked at my light pink pair of skating shoes. My favorite color is yellow; that’s why Santa gave me yellow skating shoes” “Attention! So, I don’t know how you guys ended up here, but I received a letter telling me to lecture you guys. So, here we are!” OMG it is Brian Orser, the coach of Yuzuru Hanyu!!! I could not believe my eyes at all.I quickly lined up in front of him with the other skaters to introduce ourselves.&nbsp; When it was my turn, I energetically said: “Hi! My name is Mithya, and I’m nine years old. I like to eat ice cream!” All the skaters laughed except a boy with blond hair. I must admit, he looked so dang hot. ***After the first (exhausting) lesson, I happily went to buy hot chocolate. On my way, I bumped into the boy with blond hair.&nbsp; “What the hell, watch your steps!” he shouted. “Gosh, shut your ass!” I blurted out. What’s wrong with that boy…besides, his deep blue, cold eyes were scaring me. It was as if they could freeze me to death. They literary give me shivers. ***The next morning, I met that boy. “Sorry that I was rude yesterday. I was in a bad mood because of my family.” “What happened to your family?” “My dad and mom are arguing about getting a divorce, and they keep scolding me about pursuing ice skating while my older brother is much more “useful” for pursuing business.” “Are you already sure about being an ice skater before receiving the letter?” “Yes. I am pretty sure. What about you?” “I really dream of being an ice skater, but my mom told me that real skaters jump triples at three while I’m only jumping doubles.” “Well, a dream is always the most important thing after all.” “I guess your right…” “My name’s Peter, by the way, nice to meet you.” Maybe he’s not that mean after all, and he’s not scaring me that much anymore. ***I am fifteen now, and I just made it to the seniors. I am particularly excited about it because I could join Peter, who is one year older than I am, in the seniors competition.&nbsp; “What’s up, shorty,” Peter ‘greeted me.’” “Hey, dumbass,” I replied.&nbsp; He put his arm around my shoulders, and we started chatting. I could not tell him that I started to have a fat crush on him after he suddenly grew much taller over the summer. I still remember how we were the only two members who made it to the national team after the week of training. “What about your depression?” He whispered, “has it gone better?” “Kinda? Like I haven’t broken down in two days. Great process.” After joining the national team, every day was hell. Peter is the only reason life is still somewhat entertaining. I missed the Four Continents competition that year, and the year after, due to severe injuries. Peter, even though he competed, did not win any medal due to his anxiety messing up his program. ***Mythia is eighteen years old. She committed suicide. This is Peter writing. This is the same date that we met, on Christmas. She vanished just as the year ended.

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The tragedy of a skater

cellulose01

Cellulose

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The tragedy of a skater

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