These little things

These little things

So because nothing spectacular or riveting happened today, thanks to being at work, I’ve decided that I’ll post my first ever completed NonFiction writing piece. I did this for an assignment for my Writing Creative Nonfiction class. I enjoy writing, I like making imagery out of words and being able to express myself and my thoughts through these images. So here it goes…

It is easy to see the beginnings of things, and harder to see the end. For the girl who has been a bundle of nerved for the better part of the day, sitting on a cold hard bench waiting for her name to be called for something that she does not want to do, this statement is everything. This day is always inevitable every year, and this year is no different. As soon as I think it is over, the year goes by so fast and then here I am again, as though I never left and time is playing a cruel, cruel joke on me where I must stay in a time loop of this day over and over again. This day is known as the ‘swimming competition’ day. It should not be a big deal, but it cripples me with anxiety until I can no longer breathe and end up gasping for air like a fish out of water. Which I suppose in this case, I am. No one else seems to be bothered by it. But the smell of chlorine lingers, settling down on my clothes and skin and it does not want to leave. The anxiety in me does the same.

All too soon my name is called over the speaker, and everything inside me turns to mush and I forget how to breathe again. I somehow make my way over to where there are five other classmates waiting to swim against me. All I can focus on is how the tiles feel cold and slippery like I am walking over fish scales. I try to imagine what that would feel like between my toes, as a distraction, but to no avail. I step tentatively on my diving block, breathing in and out so fast that I feel as though I may faint. Time slows and it feels as though it is taking a life time for everyone else to get to their diving blocks. One girl must be afraid, as she has chosen to forgo the diving blocks as I hear a splash in the water beside me and see her from the corner of my eye blobbing in the water like a buoy. At least I am not alone in this, maybe I should go into the water too in case I make a flop of diving from the block in front of everyone and what if my top falls and what if I forget to swim and what if, what if what if. I am hyperventilating again, and shivering from the slight breeze in the air even though it is humid in the room from hundreds of people breathing in unison. I hear a loud clap and realise that is the sound for me to start, so I dive off my board and make a splash like a dolphin. I kick my feet as fast as I can go. I feel like I am gliding, but I have a feeling that I am making more of a flopping splash to get to the other side rather than gliding. But I am doing it, I am swimming.

My fingers finally touch the wall and I am done, finished, no more swimming. I stand there for a few seconds, shaking and too numb to move with all the adrenaline pumping around my body. I feel mum’s hand close around mine to reassure me that it is over, and her touch alone brings me back to reality, to earth, and I don’t feel so numb anymore. I shakily get up out of the water and step into the towel that mum is now wrapping around me. My head feels weird and light, and I feel like I am floating on cloud nine and the anxiety that crippled me not too long ago is gone and I can finally breathe. I clamber up the bulky steps to my seat where there is food in my bag waiting to be eaten, although I can’t really hold it still, so it might have to wait. I watch the next lot of people make their way over to the diving blocks, and that’s when it finally and truly hits me that this experience is over for another year, before I must go through this all over again. But that is for future me to worry about.

IMG_1593Hopefully you enjoyed that piece as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I hope all you lovelies have a wonderful day ❤️

– M

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