Dreams Under the Ice

Winter, and once again alone on the ice. This was where she came to forget about her troubles. This was where she felt strongest. Guiding power into her legs, Mara glided across the frozen river, leaving little white lines and circle arcs on the surface. The sound of splitting ice spitting snow and carved designs thrilled her in the chilled air. Arms outstretched, bitter wind on her face, she breathed in energy and breathed out art. She shifted her weight, and started flying backwards over the light dusting of snow on the ice. The banks, trees, all brilliant white, deadly silent.

She pumped her legs and pushed into an axel jump, something she had done countless times. Up in the air, she spun, the world a blur. Arms pulled in tight, she was in control. The blade on her silver skate blade caught a chip in the ice, and her carefully arranged world came crashing down. Falling hard, she hit the ice amid the white lines and circle arcs that made up her life and came to a standstill lying on her back.

Deadly silent.

Mara’s eyes opened, and she blinked to get the flakes of snow out of her gray eyes. “That was not the most graceful landing,” she said to herself. She leaned up and looked around; the deafening quiet began to feel unsettling. Turning over, she put her hands on the ice in an effort to push herself up. Looking down, she saw something moving under the ice, a dark form, just below. She turned over completely, and used her gloved hand to wipe away the soft snow from the ice as one would erase the misty fog from a window.

She looked again and terror seized her; had the ice become a mirror? A woman’s face appeared, eyes wide open in horror, bubbles escaping her mouth as her hands scratched at the hardened ice. Her face seemed familiar, but Mara didn’t recognize her. Mara’s screams echoed across the empty river, but no one was there. Violently she pounded the ice, trying to find a weak spot, a place for this woman escape the cold water. Panic started setting in, and Mara redoubled her effort. She pulled off one of her skates and tried to pierce the ice with it. Her sweat froze as she kept hitting the ice, pieces of the solid river exploding into tiny bits. After moments of full desperation, Mara heard the ice begin to split.

Water and ice mixed, and sounds like cracking glass filled that moment. The ice caved in and an arm reached out from the river, feeling around like starving child grasping for bread. Mara tried to catch the arm, but instead the hand clutched onto Mara’s wrist, pulling her down. A voice from the water escaped, "This moment in time, it doesn't belong to you.” Mara screamed as she struggled to stay on top of the ice, with nothing on the ice to anchor her. The voice bit again, “It belongs to me.” The icy hand was stronger, and Mara felt herself slowly getting closer to the hole in the ice like a crossroad into the next world. Her shoulder was next, pulled farther down into the river. She turned her head, struggling for her life and gasping in the last of her breath before the final moments fell. Her head down, the rest of her body was pulled through the hole.

Her eyes opened, and she blinked to get the flakes of snow out of her hazel eyes. “That was not the most graceful landing,” she murmured to herself. Leaning up, she surveyed the area. Down the river she saw the hole in the ice, and a single ice skate near it. Gingerly she got up and skated over to the area, checking out how much the ice was cracked, making sure not to get near it. She stared at the hole and whispered, “Wouldn’t want that to happen again, now would we?” Out loud she mused, “It’s my turn to live, girl. Never say goodbye to my part of your life.” Her life fresh again, she shook out her wet hair and skated up the frozen river, her dark smile never fading from her face. She looked back over her shoulder and laughed, “Where on your palm is my little line when you're written in mine as an old memory?” Turning forward, she skated away from her past to embrace her new future.