Breaking The Chains

We all get a second chance at life. At least, I think so.

I’m still waiting for mine.

Sitting at the desk up in my room, I watched as a school bus stopped at the intersection at the end of my road. I watched blankly as high schoolers jumped out of the bus and walked towards their houses, mouths going a mile a minute to their friends. Most likely about how retarded school was today, the party they were throwing that night, or complaining about the heat and humidity.

Turning away from the outside scene, I looked at the thermometer in my room, stating it to be around 90°F with high humidity outside. I cringed, thanking my AC for working as hard as it was right now. The bus had now driven away and the high school students were now in their houses, hiding from the heat just as I was. Unfortunately for me, I had work in an hour, which meant having to go outside and face the horrendous Nashville heat.

I wish I could have hid out in my room, away from the suffocating heat, but I needed to make money somehow. Make money so I can someday get away from the life I had here in Tennessee.

A year ago, I was once one of those high school students, jumping off the bus and running to escape the heat of the day. But that was in the past now, I had graduated and was now thrusted into the real world. A real world I hated. All through school, I struggled with my studies, struggled with friendship, and struggled to overcome my shyness to the world. I grew up the youngest daughter in a family of four. Despite being 3 years younger then my oldest sister, I was always outshined by Cara.

The beautiful, talented, outgoing, straight-A student Cara Henderson, my twenty-one-year-old sister who was studying at Harvard. Everyone in my family adored her for what she had done, who she was, and what she was doing. No one cared about lowly me, the nineteen-year-old Camilla Henderson. The less beautiful, less talented, shy girl who couldn’t even get into a community college!

Grumbling in annoyance, I got up and began to pull out my work uniform. Yet again, like all the other days since graduating college and failing at life, I dressed in my uniform, braced myself for Southern heat, and drove to my full time job. Monotony of life, it wore down on you. I wanted out, I wanted to move on, I wanted to go off and see new places and meet new people and discover shit I never knew fucking existed! I never had been out of Tennesse and for almost becoming twenty-years-old that little fact drove me insane.

Nashville had nothing for me except for a monotonous life and a constant reminder at how I never manage to do anything.

I had a dad who was always working, a mother who at sometimes was caring but other times more interested in wondering what Cara was doing then if I had a good day, and a sister who only came back for the summer and stole the little spotlight I had. Getting into my work clothes, I grab my car keys and ran down the rickety stairs to my living room, the place empty and quiet. I passed through the living room and to the kitchen, reaching the front door, looking around at my surrounding.

“I see my reflection in the window, this window clean inside, dirty on the out, I'm looking different than me, this house is clean babe! This house is clean.” I ripped open the door and cringed at the blasting heat, interrupting my Metallica song. “Fuck is it hot.”




Slowly closing his window, Joonas Rask quickly turned on his AC to try and block out the rising heat from outside. Heat, it was something that was never Joonas never could handle, neither could his brother. Walking away from his window, the cold waters of Saimaa taunting him, and kicked his suitcase close. Starring down, the zippers were calling out that they needed to be zipped up or all the hard work of packing would have been in vain.

Bending down and struggling to close the stupid thing, Joonas was happy for the fact that he just completely went against is Mom’s wishes and just turned on the AC or he would have been drenched in more sweat.

What could be done anyways? He was leaving for America tomorrow, big deal.

Finally succeeding, Joonas made sure his hockey bag was packed with everything he needed. Forgot one piece of equipment and he was screwed. Hockey was the reason he was going all the way to Nashville, Tennessee, if he forgot apart of his equipment that would just look completely idiotic and the last thing he wanted to do was fuck up any chances of getting to the NHL. Nashville…the place sounded interesting but Tuukka had said the couple times he had been there, it was nothing special.

Yet again, his older brother one up-ed him, Tuukka got to go to freaking Boston, Massachusetts and by the sounds of it, where did Joonas get? The boondocks of America.

Greaaaaaaat.

Joonas did love his older brother Tuukka, that’s for sure. If it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t have gotten into hockey and Tuukka was his freaking brother. The guy had been there every single day of his fucking life, of course he had to love him! Even after all the times Joonas’ walls shaked with his brother’s attempts to play drums at 11 in the morning when all Joonas wanted to do was sleep. There was a permanent dent in the wall now thanks to Joonas’ response of pounding his fist against the wall followed by the usual curse: “Vitun surkea, älä lopeta päivä työtä kusipää!”

You fucking suck, don’t quit your day job asshole!

But that was all way before Tuukka managed to get himself into the NHL. It was a huge thing for everyone, being the first to actually achieve such a high goal (no pun intended). It quickly overshadowed Joonas and his hockey skill. Overshadowed everything, really. All Joonas became after that wasn’t Joonas Rask, hockey forward who competed in countless World Juniors and now Captain of the Ilves Tampere league, but now just pretty much: “the younger brother of celebrated Boston Bruins goalie Tuukka Rask.”

It was rather annoying, being only known for the fact that you were the younger brother of an NHL player. God dammit, that shouldn’t be something to be known for! Joonas wanted to be known for something else, like, hmm, I don’t know, a celebrated NHL forward!? Even his own god damn family was more in tune to what Tuukka was doing in good old Boston all the way in America then what Joonas was doing in boring old Tempere, Finland.

Even people in Tempere only saw him has the younger brother of Tuukka!

Dammit, why did Tuuk have to be part of Ilves first? He wasn’t the only Rask people! Sometimes Joonas was tempted to wave a little flag that stated I’M STILL HERE at family gatherings in the summer when Tuukka came home. Thank god his brother was eager to see him whenever he came back and was always asking when he would be playing against him in America. Soon, man, sooooon.

Kicking his bags into a corner of his room, he stared at the picture of him and his brother when he first visited him in Boston. He remembered their rant that day about how America was fucking stupid and made drinking ages, restricting the two of them to having to drink themselves shitless in his apartment with alcohol they had to get from his older teammates. This time though, he wouldn’t get to see his brother at all, instead he had to go to a different city and state in that country.

Why?

Finally, Joonas Rask was drafted for the Nashville Predators. Finally, the doors to the NHL had opened for him and he was off to prospect camp and make a different name for himself. Leaving his room, Joonas opened the door and was met with the unpleasant reminder that only AC running in the house was in his room.

“Fuck is it hot.” He grumbled.