Paige Says

The story of gymnast Paige, who goes through multiple hardships.

        

Prologue

“We need a crash cart! We're gonna lose her!”
“Get her a room, now!”
“Not my little Paige, nooooooo.” my mom's sobbing voice exclaimed.

“We need five hundred milligrams of morphine!”

        All I could hear was panic from voices I didn't know. I felt my body being rolled very quickly down the hall. I tried to open my eyes, move my head, to do something to let my mom know I was okay. But I couldn't do it. My eyes were not opening, my head was braced to the backboard. I didn't know what was going on, or how I got here. But I knew this wasn't good. I tried one final time to open my eyes before everything blacked out.........

 

~1~

“Paige hurry up, you're going to be late!” My mom's voice echoed up the stair case as I grabbed my gym bag and left my room. My coach would kill me if I was late, but what could I do? I was in the middle of my book. I didn't want to leave the land of Bella and Edward to go get all sweaty. But I knew I had to. It's the life of a competitive gymnast. Eat, sleep, school, practice. What else could happen in our lives? We get maybe two, three if lucky, days off a week.

But really, it's not too bad. I mean. The glamor and stuff that you see as an outside audience member, that's not all too real either. Us gymnasts, we live in our own world. That's what gymnastics is. You'll see those stupid signs that say “gymnastics is life” but really, it's not life, but a way of living. We have special routines to follow, ways to live. Our diets are strict, our workout schedules are crazy busy. We've all got these rules we have to follow. Contracts signed every year, each one a huge amount of “reading” that nobody ever does. The basics though- no drugs, no alcohol, eat healthy, no missing practice, and the toughest of all is the no boyfriends rule.

Personally though, it's a stupid rule. But maybe I only find it stupid because quite frankly, I've never had a boyfriend myself. I've seen so many girls on the team get caught with boys and they get punished for it- gotta love extra conditioning. But really, it's a stupid rule I guess. I don't see what about a boy can mess us up so much while we're actually at practice. Unless you're out getting pregnant, you're fine. Really. What is going to happen? You're going to get too many butterflies from kissing him that you lose your balance?

But anyways, other than that tangent. The rules are pretty simple, easy to follow. And quite frankly we need them. There have been girls who didn't eat the right stuff, or were turn stupid and decided to have a party and came to practice the next day with a hangover. I've seen the screwy side of them, it was obvious they were post drunk, and coach not only made them work harder, but they were crazy sick after. As for the ones who didn't eat enough, they passed out in practice. They ended up at the hospital, hooked up to all those machines to feed them and help them breathe. I felt terrible, when it happened to Nicole. She was one of our bests, and she let an eating disorder get the best of her. They can only really get away with it for so long before it takes over.

So that's why, as I'm running through the kitchen, I grab a granola bar before practice. I always have a few in my bag, for those random “I need something in my body” moments. I'd rather not end up passed out under the beam, or fall off the bars in the middle of a giant. That'd kind of suck, quite a lot. I run out to the car, granola in one hand, water in the other, bag over my shoulder. I turn the car on, and pull out of the driveway. To the gym I go. Ready to rock, and ready to roll.