Falling Offside.

“You're staring at the sign like it personally offended you.” I didn't look away from the window. “Maybe it is.” Mom sighed from behind the wheel. She'd been doing that a lot lately– Just a quiet exhale like that's all she could do in situations she couldn't fix nor control. The sign grew larger as we approached the town and it became impossible to ignore with the letters boldly written in white ink. WELCOME TO ASHBOURNE. I hated how a place I called home made me feel so sick. How a place I was supposed to feel safe carried so many sad memories that I'd spent the last two years trying to bury. “Most people are usually excited coming home, you know right?”Mom continued, not minding I was uninterested in any conversation. “Good for them”, I retorted sharply. That reply earned me the silence I so desired though uncomfortable. Things had been like this since Dad moved out, since the Divorce, since life decided it wasn't done causing havoc in everything concerning me. “Isla…” she swallowed hard before continuing, like she was carefully picking her words now. “I'm just tryna make a conversation”. I turned my gaze to her and turned back quickly, staring vaguely into the trees as the breeze brushed my face. “I know”. And that was our problem. I knew she tried hard. I saw her efforts and now I felt the hurt and defeat in her words and it made my chest hurt so bad but I was going through enough already to create space for hers. The journey continued in silence as the car rolled deeper into the town. I stared at the streets. They all screamed “two years gat nothing on me”. Everything looked same as I'd left it. The Library in Main Street still looked like it had survived third world War with the white-now‐looking-brown paint all peeled that it exposed the bare walls, the old crusty signpost still hung at the entrance of Joe's coffee and the bakery where Dad and I used to stop after every Saturday practice for hot bread and croissants still didn’t age a bit. I sighed deeply. My life definitely was the only variable. Ashbourne remained the same. “Look”. Mom excitedly pointed out to the other side of the road while clearing her throat. I gave a you never give up sigh before steadily following her gaze which I regretted immediately. There stood the rink. As elegant and breathtaking as I first remembered it. It still had the same turquoise blue roof that stood tall amongst other buildings, same glass entrance and the huge banner still largely hung at the entrance “Ashbourne Rink”. The sight of it hit me harder than I expected and for a second, all I did was stare. It felt strange how a building could hold the best memories and still hold the saddest. The memories came flooding before I could try to stop them –Bright lights, Cold ice, Music blasting through the arena speakers, Crowd cheering loudly and then…a thud. Loud and sudden, Sharp pain, Shocked gasps, The world tilting sideways and then Darkness. I snapped out and looked away quickly that my neck hurt. “I'm sorry”. Mom apologised when she noticed my reaction. “It's fine”, I said slowly. But it wasn't and Mom knew, everyone knew. For the past two years, I kept saying I was while withdrawing from everything and everyone I love. The car disappeared slowly into the town, away from the rink but the knot that tightened in my stomach lingered. Finally, we pulled up in the driveway of our rented apartment and I stared from the windshield. The apartment looked small and white and ordinary. Kind of like our lives currently. I sighed deeply. “You ready?”, mom asked with a smirk on her face. I turned to her “No” A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Well, unfortunately that's not an option to be considered” “Can we go back?” “No” I groaned “How about another country then” “No” “Worth asking”, I scoffed. Mom laughed. The first real one since we embarked on the journey and that eased the tension briefly before reality returned. I grabbed my backpack and stepped out of the car and immediately, cold air violently brushed my face. Like Ashbourne had been patiently waiting for me to come back so it'd take its last pound of flesh on me and that was the best welcome. “Nice one” I muttered as I dragged my suitcase and headed towards the house. The front door opened with a small creak and everywhere inside smelled of fresh paints and cardboards. Our lives were packed in boxes and labels, lying carelessly in the living room, kitchen, bedrooms and bathrooms. And I hated it. Not because of the mess but because it felt temporary, like we were visitors in our own lives. “Your room's upstairs”, mom called while trotting through the boxes. I nodded and carried my bags upstairs. “The room isn't as terrible as I thought” That was the first thing that hit me as I stepped into the room. I had expected something else, maybe smaller and less appealing but this looked nice. Better than I imagined even. It had a large window with wooden floors and an empty clean wall but sadly, it was mine. I dropped my suitcase beside the bed and sat. The mattress bounced slightly and the room echoed. Too empty and too quiet and for the first time all day, I was completely alone which was supposed to make me happy instead it made me scared because when things got quiet, my memories got loud and spiralled. I started unpacking to distract myself or something close to it. The first box contained my clothes, the second contained my shoes and the third… I froze. My skates– white leather and silver blades. I got them as a present from Dad years ago when we won regionals. I remember how I squealed that morning and jumped in excitement when I got them. Now I stared at them perfectly packed in the box like they belonged there. Truth is they'd belonged there for a while. Slowly, I lifted them and the weight felt familiar. I remembered waking before sunrise, I remembered competitions, road trips, dreams and thinking I had control of what my future looked like. Now, they were just packed in a box. The door lock latched and I saw mom at the door. Her gaze shifted from me to the skates in my hand then back to me and immediately she understood. I hated that look immediately – understanding laced with pity. Immense pity. “Pizza?”, she asked softly. “No” “You never eat”. “That's because you're asking every five minutes” “That's how parenting works ” I smiled immediately the words dropped. Something about it amused me. “There she is” I snapped out immediately and faced her “Don't get used to it”. “I'll take what I get”. Neither of us spoke anymore and some quiet enveloped the space. I could hear a bird chirping somewhere and the trees reply to the wind outside. Mom gently placed her hands on my shoulders giving me a slight squeeze. “I know it's hard”. I looked away immediately, “yeah”. I knew where the conversation was headed and I tried to stop it before it arrived. Behind me, the door gently closed and I sighed. Grateful that she left before any of us became more emotional. The silence returned like it never left and my eyes wandered and fell on the scar on my knees and my hand brushed against it almost immediately, subconsciously. It'd been a habit I slowly picked up over time. Some scars healed but I learned to hide mine. Immediately, my phone buzzed from a notification beside me and I picked it up. “Welcome back Isla” My stomach tightened and I frowned immediately. Another message followed before I could digest the first. “You still blame the wrong person.” My fingers moved swiftly before my brain could catch up. “Who's this?” The message ticked twice. I stared at the screen for one minute, then two and then… typing. “I saw what happened that night” And a final message appeared instantly, “Ask Mason.”