Stronger
1/1
“Again,” her mother scowled. “You can be faster.”
Ali huffed. It was now going to be her third time running the mile that day. According to her mother, she wasn’t working hard enough.
Putting her earbuds in, Ali moved to the beat of some techno music her brother had supplied her with. All of this running, it was supposed to make her better, give her an edge in competition. But it felt like the only thing it was doing was bringing her down. It was.
All she wanted to do was go and hang out with her friends after school, go to the mall, the movies, anything but going to the track. There was the cute boy from her Chemistry class, Nathan, who had asked for her number. If only she actually had time to text him, let alone call him.
****
With the passing of one lap, Ali smiled. She felt a little faster. Maybe it was the people that were now sitting in the stands that made her feel like she was at a meet. Or maybe it was the promise of a dinner made by her sister that was surely waiting for her on the table at home. The youngest of three and the daughter of a single mother, Ali was often caught with the short end of the stick when it came to chores. But lately, it seemed everyone was trying to make it easier on her. Everyone, that is, but her mother.
“Pick it up, Alison!” her mother shouted.
Of course, she was going fast. She just wasn’t going fast enough.
****
Pushing herself as hard as she could, Ali felt her limbs breezing around her. She didn’t feel the ground; she didn’t feel her feet hit the pavement. No, she felt the air. She felt the strength that coursed through her veins. That feeling- the adrenaline- that was why Ali ran. It was like a drug. It was the only thing that kept her going.
As she collapsed to the ground after nearly breaking her personal best, Ali saw her mother staring at her intently.
“What?” she asked bitterly.
“Don’t talk to me that way,” her mother frowned.
Groaning, Ali sat up. “Why do we always end up fighting?”
“We’re not fighting,” her mother corrected. “We’re just talking.”
“Then can we talk about something other than running for a change? It gets old,” she said.
“Well it shouldn’t. You should be living it, Alison,” her mother picked up the empty water bottles that Ali had drained over the course of their practice.
“That’s all I am living for Christ’s sake! And I can’t take it anymore!”
“What did you say?” her mother dropped the bottles.
“I can’t take it anymore,” Ali’s lips quivered. “I quit.”
****
All the adrenaline in the world wasn’t worth the pain she had to put herself through. It wasn’t worth giving up her teenage years. Her mother’s pressure had broken her and now Ali was left to pick up the pieces. Alone.
Ali huffed. It was now going to be her third time running the mile that day. According to her mother, she wasn’t working hard enough.
Putting her earbuds in, Ali moved to the beat of some techno music her brother had supplied her with. All of this running, it was supposed to make her better, give her an edge in competition. But it felt like the only thing it was doing was bringing her down. It was.
All she wanted to do was go and hang out with her friends after school, go to the mall, the movies, anything but going to the track. There was the cute boy from her Chemistry class, Nathan, who had asked for her number. If only she actually had time to text him, let alone call him.
****
With the passing of one lap, Ali smiled. She felt a little faster. Maybe it was the people that were now sitting in the stands that made her feel like she was at a meet. Or maybe it was the promise of a dinner made by her sister that was surely waiting for her on the table at home. The youngest of three and the daughter of a single mother, Ali was often caught with the short end of the stick when it came to chores. But lately, it seemed everyone was trying to make it easier on her. Everyone, that is, but her mother.
“Pick it up, Alison!” her mother shouted.
Of course, she was going fast. She just wasn’t going fast enough.
****
Pushing herself as hard as she could, Ali felt her limbs breezing around her. She didn’t feel the ground; she didn’t feel her feet hit the pavement. No, she felt the air. She felt the strength that coursed through her veins. That feeling- the adrenaline- that was why Ali ran. It was like a drug. It was the only thing that kept her going.
As she collapsed to the ground after nearly breaking her personal best, Ali saw her mother staring at her intently.
“What?” she asked bitterly.
“Don’t talk to me that way,” her mother frowned.
Groaning, Ali sat up. “Why do we always end up fighting?”
“We’re not fighting,” her mother corrected. “We’re just talking.”
“Then can we talk about something other than running for a change? It gets old,” she said.
“Well it shouldn’t. You should be living it, Alison,” her mother picked up the empty water bottles that Ali had drained over the course of their practice.
“That’s all I am living for Christ’s sake! And I can’t take it anymore!”
“What did you say?” her mother dropped the bottles.
“I can’t take it anymore,” Ali’s lips quivered. “I quit.”
****
All the adrenaline in the world wasn’t worth the pain she had to put herself through. It wasn’t worth giving up her teenage years. Her mother’s pressure had broken her and now Ali was left to pick up the pieces. Alone.
♠ ♠ ♠
Fin.