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Lately, a cloud of tranquility washes over me whenever I sit in my favorite spot under the oak tree in the park and I do savor the quietness of peace and harmony even though I was worn out from continuous rehearsals every day for 6 days a week , 6 hours a day practicing and practicing gymnastics routines. The vault, floor, beam, uneven bars and not counting the extra practices: running, yoga and a whole assortment of other things.
I love what I do and this passion stemmed from the age of 5 made me who I am. Four times champion at worlds – world's gymnastics and next year I will be competing again for world's title.
But lately, I can't explain to the people around me about my losing weight, mood swings- not as if they haven't blamed it on gymnastics so I escape to the place where I feel the safest.
Amongst the joggers, families with kids and athletes running around the park in the city there are many oak trees that stand strong against the wind. Sitting under one whilst watching the sunset has been calming just before I head back home, currently I live with my dad in a townhouse in one of those upscale neighborhoods.Operation to move out on my own has failed countless of times, all arguments in turn for gymnastics training, college, independence has failed miserably and as father has pointed out that I am still 17 and in his books still underage to move out on my own.
What does he know about being underage anyway?
I heard from my cousins that he got into trouble since he was 12 and was in and out of prison many times by the time he was 20. Got through the ranks in the mafia family he belonged to and finally ended up being the head of the family. Of course they edited the story of the power struggles in the country with 4 other dons, the bloody blood baths, the hide and seek game with the cops, and my mother's murder.
My mother's murder happened in front of my eyes but I remember very little about it, I was only 3 when it happened. I heard bits and pieces through hushed adult conversation since he doesn't allow any talk about her and has kept pictures of her away. All I knew was that she was a beautiful opera singer with ebony hair and a charming smile. Sometimes, I go to her closet and sit there in the dark cupboard amidst racks of her clothes, handbags and shoes and wish she was still alive.Maybe if she was alive, dad wouldn't have looked at me sometimes with pain in his eyes.Lance tells me that I resemble my mother a lot right down to her voice.Maybe that's the reason why dad was very protective of me after mother died.
Till this day I remembered how I had hid in her closet and fell asleep there oblivious to the fact that the entire staff in our house was searching high and low for me. It was after one of the maids had opened up all the closets in the room and finally found me asleep there; needless to say my unfortunate governess was fired from her post for not keeping a better eye on me once father found out. But I never forget the fear in everyone's eyes including Erik's well maybe Erik's since he had been entrusted with the role of my safety especially after mother died. I never forget the look on his face, his pale skin was flushed pink with sweat contrasted with the white porcelain mask he wore on the right side of his face.He had sighed in relief.