Thalia Anagnos-Loukanis
A 14-year-old girl who has not only struggled to fit in at school but with the people that should have loved her; her family. She was the one that brought two families together.
People wouldn't say the families hated one an...
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- Third Person POV -
Francesco Colombo - 18 years old
"Stepping onto the ice for the final game of the season, is the Minnesota State University, up against the undefeated USA Development Program, which are all ready for the draft coming up next month. Let the game begin"
Francesco, a center for Minnesota, pushed himself up to the puck drop, taking a deep breath in. He had to win this game, he had to make it out of this game, all before his father got home from his work trip and would be able to see his name plastered on everything. He would have to tell Leon, that he had been selected as freshman hockey player for Minnesota State, and that he had been playing for the past 10 months, but he wasn't sure he could do that.
He had told them that he would never play ice hockey, after their father had gone on a rampage, breaking all of his sticks and nearly burning his old uniform. He was 16, at the time, and had fallen out of love with this sport because of his fathers anger for it. He believed that his son was being a "ungrateful shit" for caring more about a sport than what they did for a living.
He was hurt by his father, because his older two brothers wanted to run the business, but he did not. He didn't like it, so he chose a sport, watching it every second he could when he was down working on the cars or in his bedroom, supposedly studying. He loved it, but his father hated him for it.
So, he would have to speak to Leon, about the press, and if he could hide it for him. If he asked Leo, questions would come from the 20 year old, that wouldn't come from his 25 year old brother. He didn't need the questions that he couldn't answer. He just wanted to play ice hockey. He just wanted to play, for crying out loud, like his two little brothers could.
Everyone in the family had a pair, whether it was Leo and Leon, or Lorenzo and Nicolo, they all had someone, while Franco couldn't go to the younger ones or the older ones. One way or another, his father would find out, it was just how much time on the scoreboard would he get out of it.
---
Turning to the side, all Francesco could think, was that he wasn't fast enough. He hadn't given himself enough time. He braced the impact, as the slightly larger boy collapsed on top of him, as he slid into the boards, hearing the snap in his leg. A grunt was forced out, as he felt his bucket fall off of his head.
The weight of the larger boy disappeared, but Francesco didn't move, keeping his head bowed. He had no idea how he was going to be able to get up, let alone into the locker room. He didn't want this to happen, as most athletes don't, but he knew that a relative would be called if he went to the hospital. It had happened before.
Leon had been called at the start of the season, but Francesco had said that it wasn't him with the sprained wrist, and that they had gotten it all wrong. That he was fine, studying in his room all day everyday. He had lied then, but he wasn't so sure he would be able to hide it anymore. He was done hiding everything.
He was done hiding the fact that he looked a little different to his brothers, being one of the tallest out of all of them, standing at 6'5, which made his father laughable at 6'1. He was sick of having the dirty blonde hair and having to dye it every six weeks, but now, he had given up on it. He was sick of having people breathing down his neck.
He was sick of his father, and now, he could finally give away the one thing he had hidden. "3,2,1, up" and with that, he was lifted up, and onto a board, before he could feel the dazed feeling of someone holding his hand, as he was wheeled away. "Don't tell anyone" he whispered, right as he felt his head roll to the side.
---
2 months later
Standing at the side of the practice, he was here, but he was on the bench. He couldn't find the strength in himself to sit down, with his leg in the way of everyone else, so he stood standing. He didn't want to put anybody else out.
He had come to the first practice, as asked, but this time, he would be done forever. He had made the decision, that after his surgery, he wouldn't be coming back to the sport that he loved so dearly. He would go home, and maybe never ever go back to Minnesota, not if his father told him to go for the family business, he would just deny.
He couldn't come back anymore, he was in so much pain every day, that he was about to cut off his leg some days, that he thought it best to head home, and deal with whatever his father had for him. Maybe he could lie again, but he wasn't sure for how long. He just had to get out of this arena, at the least. The same arena, where he could see himself lying under a kid that got drafted a month later to his favorite team.
Yeah, that same team he had hoped would have reached out to him. "Hey, didn't think we would see you back here so early" one of the friends that had helped him so much, patted him on the side of his arm, with a bright smile on his face. "Didn't think so either. How are the freshman this year?" Francesco kept the conversation going, as he held up a pained smile.
"Yeah, there alright" he nudged one of them, before he gave Francesco a nod, and said their goodbyes, as he easily skated back to where he had come from. Francesco wished it was that east to just walk away from things, but it wasn't. It never would be that easy anymore, as they had told him that he will always a little bit of pain, but it will dull out after a while.
They had told him that they had never seen such a torn ACL, and that there was nothing to fully fix it. That there was nothing to be done to fix the broken pieces. "How's the leg?" coach skated over to the boy, leaning against the boy, as he just shook his head at him, already feeling the tears simmer in.
"I can't come back coach. I'm signing out" he muttered, looking down at the floor, as he heard the sigh that he had heard over and over in his own head, when he went over this conversation. He knew that this was coming, and there was nothing to stop it. "You sure? You only have a few more months and then you'll be as good as new. I'm sure they will pick you up this season, after last seasons performance"
But that was the thing. It was last years performance, not this years. It was who he used to be, but not who he was now. Now, he was injured, and out waiting for a few months. "Coach, nobody knows that I am here, playing hockey. Nobody knows and I shouldn't have been playing last season. I shouldn't even be here in Minnesota anymore"
The coach nodded at Francesco, albeit disappointed that such potential had never had an eye on it, and now it was just being washed down the drain, right there in front of him. "Well, if you ever want to come back, as a coach or a player, you have my number" and with that, Francesco buckled up and walked away, a heavy feeling in his chest.
He had only just turned 19, 10 minuets ago, and nobody had noticed, not even a text message because no one had known just how much pain and heartbreak that Francesco had been going through, not even his family. Nobody had known, and they would never know.
They would never know that he had given up his dream on his 19th Birthday.
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