Secrets and Lies

Casey is a teenager with an amazing will to succeed. She is an incredible runner and is determined to enter a marathon. However it is not that easy. Her world is upturned as her friend's life begins to break down and only Casey can help, Casey is madly in love with a man she thinks will never want her and a sad turn of events results in a huge blow. But Casey is still determined to follow her dream...

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7. 1st May 2013

 

“Are you sure you ready?”                                                                                                                                                  

   “Positive.”                                                                                                                                                                          “Then show them what you’re made of”

The siren went and I started running. I had a long way to go, all the way to Wales in fact on Level 7, on the treadmill of course. My music was plugged in to a speaker; it blasted out Stronger (what doesn’t kill you) my new favourite song since the incident. I paced on, lost in the music moving to the quick beat, on and on.

Soon I was adrift in my own world, focused on my new muse. 80 miles, 2 days, 12 hours, 4 breaks. Unbelievably £500 was riding on this, all for BeatBullying. As soon as I had come out of hospital and was deemed fit enough to run I wanted to do this. I was overwhelmed by the support I had got off my family and the town I lived in, Amaya and mine’s story was soon leaked to the local newspaper so naturally everyone knew.

Everyone had been very generous with their donations; the one I had fallen for sponsored me with £30 wishing me the best of luck. Aside from helping an amazing charity, proving to everyone that I was stronger than they thought and showing myself that I could do this; that was what also made it worthwhile. Knowing I would make him smile his imperfect flawless crooked irresistible warm smile if I did this, kept me more motivated than anything else. Although helping kids just like me wasn’t far behind.

I still had my left arm in plaster which I had to admit made it a lot harder run than normally. There was not a milometer of plaster that wasn’t signed by someone, I think most of the school had minutely scribbled their names on there, all the teachers had written a message, and I had my whole family tree on there too.

 “Okay, Case. Time for your first break. You’ve done great! Only 60 miles to go!” said my P.E teacher who helped me down from the treadmill. He had light brown spiky hair, with smiling hazel eyes and shiny white teeth. With a little bit of stubble and a what was sure to be a six pack and strong arms; only about 30 years old, almost every girl in the year above us seemed to be always trying to get his attention.  I’d been running for 3 hours non-stop (of course I had water whilst running) and I was completely exhausted. I was allowed a two hour break before I needed to start running again.

I was inside the new school gym which was unusually pristine. I seriously needed a shower, so I went into the girls changing rooms and took one relishing the icy cold water and the clean clothes that I put on. It was odd being at school but not being in class. I had gone back to school last week, so missing out this week was odd. I guess I was lucky that school had allowed it but because I had finished all my exams for a while, my wish had been granted. Amaya wasn’t as lucky; she couldn’t stay with me while running and had to learn. Poor Amaya.

After I had eaten, Mr Horan came back into the gym setting up the bed in our rest room                     ( yes we had a room in our school that was for sleeping)“ It’s up to you whether you sleep for a little, but remember that you will be running for another 4 hours so you might need your energy. I will be teaching some year nines in the sports hall if you need me. The head told me I can leave you alone as long as you are okay with that?”                                                                                                                                                      “Yeah, sure. Thanks Sir.” I answered already yawing. He left me to it. It was so surreal settling down to sleep in school, so bizarre. But as soon as my head hit the pillow I was out like a light.

Soft slight waves carried me forwards, as the turquoise water shimmered in the sunlight. I caught an amber and white beach ball and threw it back to my Dad. I was 14, laughing in the beautiful welsh sea which our holiday home was near to. It seemed like the whole of Wales was in the water, as suddenly I was crammed and bombarded with a mass of people that were splashing and shouting loudly making my head buzz with fear. I was scared.

It seemed like I had lost my dad in the massive mob of bodies; I couldn’t see him anywhere. Trying as hard as I could not to cry, I began to push my way through the crowds calling for my dad but my noise was lost in the commotion, and I was lost in the clamour of bodies. Suffocating me were the people, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe; there was no space I was going to get squished.

There was only one place I could go. Underwater. I stopped my legs from kicking and starting falling down, down, down. I was lost in the timeless world of screaming silence; it was like the world has stopped spinning. But then my lungs started burning and I was caught in a tangle of sticky bodies. Panicking, my arms and legs thrashing wildly for space as I tried desperately to get back up to the water, to get air, to survive.

It was either drowning or getting strangled by bodies. It wasn’t much of a choice. My heart was ablaze and rapidly pumping blood around a body that just wouldn’t move. And then my muscles failed me, they didn’t seem to want to help at all. Soon my legs went; they just felt like lead that was too heavy for me to heave. As I watched the sea of flames devoured me just as my scorching of my throat reached its climax.

And still I hadn’t taken a breath, although every atom I possessed was yelling at me too. The sinister salt was quickly dissolving my vision and black patches appeared. I knew I was going to die. I closed my eyes just willing it to end now.

Without warning I felt strong arms wrap around me, tearing me from the water’s incredibly tight grasp and pulling me onto the sandy shore. My lungs refused to work and I still couldn’t breathe so I lay still, an inch from death. My ears popped deafeningly, and all at once I was overwhelmed by the thundering loud noises I could hear. People were so unaware of what was happening and still seemed to be celebrating something whilst in one ear I could hear frantic welsh whispering. The man was telling me to hold on, to breathe! He wasn’t my dad.

He started hard compressions on my chest desperately trying to get me to take in air again. He didn’t sound like a life guard. Who was he? Again and again he pounded down on my heart, despairing as I didn’t respond.

I wished he would just leave me to die. But he didn’t. I felt his warm lips open mine and a huge gust of gold escaped from his mouth leaving me no choice but to inhale it. Somehow the air forced my lungs to move and start ventilation. Choking dangerously, I greedily gasped for more oxygen until after a while my lungs could cope on their own.

Bright light dazed me as I cautiously opened my eyes. Enchanting swirls of azure and apple clung to the man’s dark dilated pupils as he moved away from me, making sure I had room to breathe. He anxiously bit his lip and started messing with his chocolate brown hair, unsure of what to say or do. This man had just saved my life, and was speechless. All I could utter was measly words. “Thank you.”

Before he could reply, my dad ran over to me and hugged me saying he was worried sick of where I had gone. He obviously hadn’t seen me drowning then. I looked back at the man, but he had vanished; lost in the crowd of vibrant people. Why had he left? I couldn’t tell my dad that I had nearly drowned; it just seemed too surreal to say out loud. I apologised the-

“Casey, Casey. It’s time to wake up. We are going to start again in 10 minutes” Said Mr Horan softly, waking me up. Wow. I hadn’t had that dream in months, but it was so real. I didn’t understand why I had just remembered the first time I met him, the man of my dreams. It was so unreal, the holiday that I had two years ago (the summer before I moved to Ainsdale ) but I could remember it like it was yesterday, clear and vividly. I didn’t know if I had imagined some of the memory but it just felt so absolute and true that guilt ran through my veins when I doubted its existence. 

I don’t know how I managed it but I ran for another 3 hours until I was allowed to go home and sleep. But to me it was just a blur of nothingness; I was haunted by that dream that had changed everything two years ago.

                              

         

 

        

                                                                                                             

 

 

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