Spoiler
Hello there! This is for a contest. My word was "Bracelet" and I had to write about the first thing that popped into my head (which, if we want to be technical, here, was actually 'bracelet') BUT, the first NON DESIGNATED word that I thought of was 'ring' pahaha. I hope you enjoy it!
Warning: I kind of got a little description happy with this O.o
Warning: I kind of got a little description happy with this O.o
I silently pulled back the bow with all my strength. Placing my thumb near my chin, I concentrated on hitting the round white object in front of me. I released my fingers and the bow made a small noise as the arrow snapped forward. Trees and plants in the surrounding area rustled as the wind blew lightly. The sound annoyed me. It was almost as if the trees were mocking me as the arrow flew past the target and disappeared into the bushes behind it.
Grumbling, I snapped a second arrow into place, and pulled the string back again. This time, I tried as hard as I could to concentrate on the little black circle in the center of the target. Closing my right eye, I looked upon the circle with irritation as my fingers released the bow string for the second time. Again, it snapped forward. The arrow flew from it's holder. I sucked in a breath, and the short seconds felt like hours.
Once again, the arrow flew past the intended target and disappeared. “Ugh!” I shouted in frustration. This so wasn't fair! The archery club made this look so effortless and easy. When I was little and my father was teaching me for the first time, it hadn't been this hard. I grumbled again, and placed my bow on the ground. There were only two more arrows left, for the other eight of them were somewhere in the bushes.
I flopped down onto the ground and rested my arm over my eyes. The bright sun tinted the back of my eyelids orange, and the heat of the day made my arms feel sticky with sweat. “I hate this,” absentmindedly, I mumbled to myself.
“So why don't you quit?”
My heart jumped as a voice suddenly questioned me. Removing my arm, I opened my eyes and looked up. Standing over me was an archery club member. His dark blond hair was tied up into a tiny little pony tail, and the small hairs that weren't long enough to fit were sticking out at the nape of his neck. He looked like a little boy as he smiled, squatted down and peered over my head.
He chuckled. “You're trying too hard.”
“Huh?”
“You're trying too hard,” he repeated. “If you put too much pressure on the bow string, you'll lose control of the arrow upon release. You have to relax in order for the arrow to follow the path you want it to.”
I sighed. “You make it sound so easy.”
He laughed again and picked up my bow. Sitting down next to me, he gently placed it in his lap. “What's your name?”
“Sicily!” I responded automatically. “And yours?” I asked. But of course I already knew. He was the captain of the archery club and the whole reason I was attempting to take up archery again.
“Evin.” His smile was bright. “Sicily is a very interesting name.”
“Thank you.” I fidgeted in my spot quietly. I had admired him from afar ever since I was a sophomore.
“Well, Sicily, let me show you what I mean.” He stood up and took my bow in his hands. Straight, perfectly positioned, but still relaxed, he stood in front of the target. His strong, tan, arms held up the bow and as he pulled back his muscles flexed slightly. Concentration was shown in his eyes, but he was calm. His face was straight and perfect.
This person, this form, was exactly the reason I had my mind set on relearning archery. I had stumbled upon the archery club's practice one afternoon, before my father picked me up from school. I was sitting in the art room on the second floor, and from the window you can clearly see the practice area that the club used.
The breeze was light and cool as it blew through the open window, and Evin was carefully lining up his bow. I was captivated as he pulled back the string. He waited five long seconds, and everything seemed quiet. The arrow soured across the open space as he let go, and landed near the center of the target. Everyone waited a few seconds. Then suddenly, Evin's stance relaxed and he smiled a breathtaking smile as he let his arm and bow fall to his side.
Every day after that, I waited in the art room after school just to see Evin practice his amazing shot, his face so composed and serious. Everything only lasted a few seconds in total, so I was never able to draw him, like I had wanted. But I figured that learning archery was second best, and that way I had a chance of getting closer to him.
“Are you watching?” he asked.
I snapped out of my thoughts and observed his stance for the thousandth time. And once again, I was amazed as the arrow hit the target, as always.
“Now you try,” he said with a smile. He walked toward me and handed me the bow that was more suited to him, than to me. “Don't worry, I'll help you.”
“O- Okay,” I stuttered. He lightly pushed me into position and backed away a little. My lungs filled up with a nervous breath as I lifted the bow, arrow and all. I felt his light touch under my elbow as he lifted it higher, and his other hand on my lower back.
“Keep your elbow up,” he whispered and I felt his breath on my ear. My heart pounded in my chest as anxiety took over. “Now. Let go.”
I did as he told me and let my fingers release the bow string. Again, the arrow soured over the top of the target.
“Relax,” he told me. “Archery is like a mirror. It reflects the heart. Don't let anxiety consume your soul, or you'll never be able to shoot right.”
“Easy for you to say,” I mumbled quietly. Either he didn't hear, or he ignored me, as he walked over to where the target was and searched for the missing arrows.
I sighed and tapped my bow against my shin lightly. I wasn't exactly sure how to respond in a situation like this. For years, I had admired him, and gradually that admiration turned into something deeper, but never had I imagined him actually helping me like this. I knew he was kind, I had seen him laughing with his friends all the time, but I didn't expect him to help out a complete stranger.
He was like a completely different person while holding a bow. He seemed like a kind and gentle person on a normal basis, but once his bow was in his hands, he produced an aura that made it hard to approach him. He is always so sophisticated and serious as he treats the bow like his prized possession, and gently narrows his eyes, concentrating deeply on the target ahead.
When he returned, he took my bow and gently snapped the arrow into place. Again, I felt his hand on my back. “Hold your string longer, this time. If you release too soon, you won't be able to concentrate on the right spot, and you won't be able to steady your hand.” He paused. “Wait.”
He stepped back and I lowered my bow. Smiling at me, he pulled out his tiny hair tie and asked me to hold out my hand. “There!” he said, after he placed the tie around my ring finger. “For good luck.” I stared at my finger for a few seconds before breaking out into a smile. I turned around and faced the damned target with more confidence.
“Take a deep breath,” he whispered in my ear, again. “One... Two... Three.” As he counted slowly and quietly, he backed away, stepping once per number. “Four,” he whispered.
“... Five,” my voice came out with soothing confidence as I finished the countdown. One more breath I took and I closed my eyes. I exhaled and opened my eyes, staring the target down. Once again, I released my hold on the string. The arrow leaped forward again and my heart raced as I pictured the arrow flying astray once more.
Evin laughed beside me, “I told you it was a good luck ring.”
I stared in awe at the target, where my arrow was now sunken into the white foam. “I did it.... I did it!” I shouted in excitement. I laughed hysterically and turned around to face my teacher. “I did it!”
He laughed again and I ran into his arms, full speed. Squealing in delight, I jumped up and down like a small kindergartener on the first day of school. “Thank you so much!”
Evin's kind smile was bright as he patted my head like a proud teacher. “Keep that ring. Maybe you'll make it to the Olympics.” And he winked at me before taking his hand off my head and shoving it in his pocket. “Don't lose it!” he shouted to me and laughed as he walked away, crossing the campus and disappearing into the front seat of a car.
“Thank you,” I muttered again, and kissed the ring as he drove away.
