Chapter #1-
I had just gotten home from gymnastics. I dropped my bag on the kitchen counter, and jogged up the steps to the bathroom for a hot shower. I'd spent the whole ride home fantasizing about the hot water running down my back. I could feel the sweat pooled up on the back of my neck, and swipe at it, as I reach my bedroom door.
Quickly, I strip down out of my tight leotard, and grab a towel from my closet, wrapping it around my chest. I pull at my hair, ripping the hairband out of the tight ponytail, and my pale blonde hair rippled down my back. Finally, I slip out of my room, and down the hall towards my bathroom where, naturally, my 16-year-old brother, Josh; was occupying it. I guess hockey practice let out early, because usually it ends about 45 minutes after gymnastics does.
"Josh! Hurry your stinky little butt up! I need a shower too, you know!" I call, as I bang my fist on the bathroom door. I can hear Josh chuckling to himself, and can just see
the smirk on his face, "Aw, you'll get your shower soon, little sis.... soon as the hot water runs out!" He calls back. I growl, huffing loudly. I sit down outside the door, irritatedly, and, finally after about 5 minutes, the steam flooding out from under the bathroom door stops, and I can hear the faucet turn off. He pulls back the curtain, and
steps onto the soft rug. The bathroom door opens, sending me flying backwards onto Josh's feet, and his towel falls down. He quickly kicks me off, pulling the towel back around his waist with a jerk. I roll my eyes.
Once he's back in his room, retreat inside the bathroom, only to see a bunch of sweaty, dirty padding from my brother's uniform. I just sigh, and sweep them over to the wall with my foot, and lay my own towel on the toilet seat. Just as I'm about to turn on the water, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My pale blonde hair waterfalls down my back. But, my fair, muscular skin is covered with large, quarter-sized bruises on my arms, spine, and legs. Obviously, since I train 28 hours a week, I'm used to bruises.
But not like this; not this many. I don't even know where these came from! I didn't fall at all today, and yesterday was Sunday, so we didn't have practice. I press my thumb against one on my upper thigh, and wince, as a shot of pain jolts through my leg. This is not good. But maybe I should just think nothing of it..... But maybe I shouldn't.
