It Makes All Our Reflections Clear

The office was cold, one of the fellow nurses had decided that the room was too warm for her tastes and opened a window. My blonde hair was tied up in a knot on the back of my head, my snow pants were trying to keep my legs warm. My boss was getting annoyed with me; she said that there was a ‘dress code’ that needed to be followed. I thought it was ridiculous to have to wear a tiny, white dress in the middle of a Canadian winter. I was a nurse not a medical stripper, I wanted to be comfortable while I worked. I was a south Texas native, heat was my best friend, I moved to California but yet I'm here in Canada. Legally I wasn't able to work here, but I was working on not having to worry about borders. So my school sent me to go to school in Canada and I met a friend named Sarah. That is the girl who got me into the position that I am in now.

Sarah, my boss, a few other nurses and I were in tiny, little cabin styled work building. The ambulance was parked next to the house and in the not too far in the distance you could see the slopes and turns of the Olympic turf. The Olympics have already ended yet people were boarding and skiing on the grounds that were used.

I closed the window and walked to the tiny thermostat that was on the wall – it was 52F. That just wasn't going to do for me; I kicked up the heat to 72F. I wasn't going to risk dying from lack of heat.

“Sarah I'm going out.” The building didn’t seem like much on the outside but if you walk into this three story building, it turned to a tiny school and next to it was the hospital. It was out here so if anything happened to the locals we would be able to help with them right away. We were working underneath Mary Tituage, who was beyond skilled in the medical field. That was one thing about having a rich family, my parents were able to help me go anywhere in life. I pulled on my green parka and slipped on my boots.

“’Kay, Quinn.” I turned and gave her a quick look. She was wearing that little dress that we were forced to wear around; sometimes I swore that our boss was a lesbian, and she was painting her finger nails. I grabbed the keys to the snow mobile and walked outside into the chilly air. Our white snow mobile was parked next to the ambulance; I tossed my legs over the seat, and stuffed the key into the ignition. It was time to have a little fun, winter was coming down and soon I was going to be sent back home to work at the local hospital. I pulled my snowboard onto the back of the bike and tied it on.

I shifted gears and drove to the Ex-Olympic turf that was being used by the locals. I knew I wasn't much compared to the others on the mountains but I had some tricks down and I knew how to have fun.

This was my day: wake, clean, school, work, school, board, work, sleep. It was a habit and I got use to it. I kept driving my goggles were blocking the little flakes of snow to get in my vision. The figures of people became more noticeable.

I was Quinn McQuay, 20 years old. I was an aspiring doctor, I loved to snowboard, swim, watch and participate in motorsports, and I was one determined woman who could do anything in life. This was something that I repeated to myself every evening of everyday. I was strong, powerful, and everyone around me knew it. Welcome to my life – welcome to my hell.

I reached the slopes and turned off the bike. People around me were pulling tricks and gaining air. I was soon to join them, I unstrapped my board and started to strap up, I have an hour and a half to practice – I needed to get on the ball.