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Her Eyes

she's not afraid; she just likes to use her night light,

There was a scraping sound when he moved across the ice. A sound only he could hear. The only sound he could hear. He had learned a long time ago to drown out the screaming of the fans with the soft, repetitive sound of his skates. It was a coping mechanism. All athletes did it, his coach used to tell him, they just did it in different ways.

He moved to the right, dodging an intentional trip from the other team, and he leaned to the left, missing another offender’s body entirely. He was good, and he knew it. But no amount of talent or skill could prepare him for what was about to happen. If he wasn’t so focused on his skates, then he might have heard the crack of the stick on the ice. If he wasn’t so focused on the puck he might have seen it move into his way. If he wasn’t so focused on the way the one’s on his jersey stuck to his back he might have felt the vibrations of the stick. But there can only be so many if’s in a situation before one thing is certain, it happened.

Jordan Staal skated right into the hockey stick of Mike Komisarek. And he went down. Everything went sickeningly quiet for six seconds - the longest six seconds of Jordan’s life - before the stadium erupted into angry booing and excited cheers, both from each side. He struggled to his feet and looked down at where he was just laying, and he was almost shocked to find small red splatters on the ice. His head shot up and the grin Mike had been wearing dripped off his face quickly. He almost looked scared. Jordan took that split second to lunge at Mike and take him down. The fans in the stands watching Jordan Staal sit on Mike Komisarek’s chest and punch him in the face repeatedly would have thought it one of the best ice fights in history, but the coach for both teams knew that this would be a bad situation for the boys, especially considering their less-than-friendly relationship already.

It seemed to everyone, especially the NHL players involved, that the refs were taking longer than usual to react to the fight. Maybe it was because they wanted to see the fight escalade? Maybe because it was destined to be a fight of epic proportions? No one could really decide on the reason they were so enthralled. But they were.

So many things were passing through Jordan’s mind as his fist raised above Mike’s head. He thought about what kind of a hit his hockey career would take, he thought about what kind of hit Mike’s hockey career would take, and he thought about his brothers. And how disappointed they would be in this. The Staal brothers were always clean hockey players. They got pushed down? They got back up again and continued with the game. Jordan was always the one to slip up, and it was always with Mike.

And right as his fist was coming down to connect with Mikes already bleeding nose, he faltered. His brothers were sitting in the crowd and he knew it. He looked up and searched, but that was his first mistake. He gave Mike the perfect opportunity to turn the tables.

Within a second of looking up, his skull was being slammed against the ice and a weight was being placed on his ribs. He struggled to push Mike off of him, but a fist collided with his face, and again. It was as if everything that had been in slow motion before was suddenly changed to overdrive. The refs came sliding up next to the two, but by then it was too late. Mike was taking his aggression out on Jordan. More specifically, he was taking his aggression out on bashing Jordan’s head into the ice.

Blow after blow and Jordan started to see a puddle-looking blue color seep into the corners of his vision. Then his fingers and hands went numb, followed by his legs. He could feel a warm, sticky liquid going up his back and though he wasn’t paying full attention to it, he smelled iron and salt, making it clear what the liquid was – blood.

It was at that moment that everything blurred. The refs pulling Mike off of Jordan. The medics rushing to Jordan’s side. The ambulance backing onto the ice. Jordan being slid onto the gurney. And most vividly, the yelling from his brothers. He felt Eric grab his shoulder and tell him everything was going to be alright. But it wasn’t going to be alright. Because at that moment, he hit unconsciousness.

And that was his second mistake. He didn’t fight the darkness.


This story was started 3 years ago. That's why it's a little behind. Let me see some feedback!



easydoesit. easydoesit.

Love it. Please post

Futuremrs__ Futuremrs__

when are you going to post the end of this story?

Gigipens Gigipens

This is brilliant!

Aleiksa Aleiksa


hockaayy hockaayy