Out of the Ashes

It was her first fight, ever. How did Sienna Sullivan get into her current predicament as she finishes tying a strong knot on her firmed laced ice skates with trembling hands, seated on the metal bench. Looking up and through the plexiglass. The six bodies of her teammates move smoothly across the ice that lies on the other side. Her breathing escalated to a rapid pace. Her heartbeat accelerated against her chest. Repressing the gag in its effort to claw its way into her throat. The ice rink emptied of any viewing eyes except those who are meant to be there. Sienna being one of those individuals. Even if she was the one being viewed and not the viewer.

Sienna takes a poor attempt at a deep breath to compose herself and stands. As much as she doesn’t want to be in her own body in the upcoming events to transpire and wishes she could black out and wake up to the aftermath, she knew deep in her heart and her own being that she had to do this, and it had to be her to do it. Looking at the ice on the other side of the glass, the only place she could ever call her “safe space” ever since she was a kid. A movement is caught her peripheral drawing her to Naomi Berry. 

Naomi, with her dreadlocks tied back and the art of a skull gracefully tattooed down the left side of her face. It gave off a zombie-vibe. As if telling the world half of her was dead and the other half was alive.

She dressed in a baggy green hoodie, jeans tucked into knee high brown boots and sporting her famous piercings, from her nose to her eyebrows, across her lips and on her ears.

To say Naomi was hard to ignore would be an understatement. Sienna began to see herself as very "vanilla" with the very stereotypical blonde hair and blue eyes.

Naomi even referred to her as a “cheerleader” at one point.

In fact, the comparison stuck so much that Naomi bestowed upon her the nickname "Pom-Pom".

Naomi comes to stand beside Sienna, eyeing her before handing her a mouthguard.

“Can’t mess up those pearly whites of yours. It might make it hard for you to find your Prince one day if you ain’t got no teeth. You might have to settle for a frog instead.” Naomi says, getting a small giggle from Sienna, taking her mind off her current situation for a brief second.

“I can feel the tension radiating off of you.” Naomi comments.

“Sorry.” Sienna simply replies.

“Don’t be. Just relax Pom-Pom. You’re building it up too much in your head. “

Despite the intimidating look and features of Naomi she was the one who befriended Sienna, even upon their initial meeting. Since that fateful day of Sienna stepping in the locker room of the Miami Slashers for the first time Sienna could tell if Naomi considered you an ally, she would fight to the death with you and for you. But if you were an enemy or a threat to those close to her you’d be wishing for death to rescue you from the proceeding beating that would take place.

Sienna pulls her hoodie off, revealing her blue long sleeve, handing it to Naomi and readjust her ponytail before they walk to the open doors leading to the ice separating the old Sienna and the new Sienna. Once her skate hits the ice there’s no going back. Her life will forever be changed.

“You got this.” Naomi says, as Sienna steps onto the ice after taking one last deep breath.

How did Sienna end up here? Willingly skating to fight another person without any inciting incident that would lead to one.

If she had to trace it back to one moment it started on the birthday of Carter Mulligan, her neighbor. For as long as Sienna knew Carter, which come to think of it until she moved away to college Carter had always been a part of her life in one shape or another, and he always had a birthday party. From the looks of each party every year you would think he was a celebrity. From the music, all the way to the dress code. Year after year Sienna and her parents would attend. They always had a system though. An hour after the cake is served, they would take their leave. It was one of her father’s better ideas.

On Carter’s thirteenth birthday that’s when everything changed. His father had purchased tickets to a local hockey game and a ticket had become available at the last minute. Sienna found herself in a tight spot. It was a birthday after all, and she didn’t have it in her to decline the offer to tag along. Even if she knew next to nothing about hockey, except it was a sport on ice.

So, there she was sitting watching men slam each other into the boarded glass walls, fighting for a small object she later discovered was called a puck, to smack with a stick that would sound like a firecracker exploded with every swing, into a square net guarded by another heavily padded man trying to block their every attempt.

When Sienna arrived back home it seemed like something clicked inside her. Whatever was missing had been found and put in its proper place and now she felt whole. When she closed her eyes in her dark covered room that night, with the cool air of a fan blowing through her blonde hair, she knew where she was going in life, on the ice.

That one moment led to Sienna garnering season tickets for both local and professional games in town. Accumulating her own hockey gear over the years. Visiting the rink any chance she got. Practicing day-after-day. Playing throughout high school leading the league in scores resulting in a college scholarship. Throughout college while balancing her grades and social life Sienna still managed to live up to her reputation as a rising hockey star, culminating in being selected in the fourth round of the Women’s Hockey Association. Now all of Sienna’s hard work and grind has given her the title of “Professional Hockey Player”. All the while Sienna may have had a front row seat for quite a few, she never found herself, personally, in a situation where she had to scrap with another player, or anyone for that matter.

Once word found its way to her teammates the reaction was as if they found out she’d never heard of the concept of a television. She could still hear the words of Paula Greene, the captain of the Maimi Slashers.

Practice that night was the catalyst of it all.

“You’ve never been in a fight before? Like, ever!?” Paula asked, running her hand through her short freshly bleached hair.

Sienna didn’t get a chance to defend herself before another voice belonging to Helen Harlow spoke up during practice.

“Well, this won’t do at all. How the hell are we supposed to play with someone that has fragile hands?” Helen spoke.

Helen was the enforcer of the team, also known as a “goon” to hockey fans. Goons were the fighters, the ones you send out if another player from the opposing team gets out of line or becomes a threat to one of your teammates. In recent years Helen seemed like she was making a run for the record of “Most Fights in a Single Season”. But in her way of achieving that goal was her own teammate Naomi, whose record seemed impossible to break.

Naomi was brought in for a meeting with the CEO of the league after a season long display of violence.

That year she spent more time in the penalty box than playing. But, due to the amount of merchandise sold each game, thanks to Naomi, she was given a stern warning to “tone it down or else”. So, if Helen wanted the record, it might be the end of her hockey career. A risk she debates daily.

“I told you to keep your pretty little mouth shut about that.” Naomi whispered to me.

“We’re going to have to fix this.” Paula said in a sigh. Silence hung in the air briefly.

“Okay. Tomorrow night meet back here. If I can’t count on you to fight with me then I can’t count on you to play beside me. So, tomorrow you’re going to fight Helen. If you can pass that test, then maybe there’s hope for you after all.” Paula finished before skating away.

Sienna felt a cold chill run down her spine as she watched Helen follow Paula, eyeing her as she passed.

“My face and all I’ve work for is about to be smash to pieces in a single night.” Sienna thought.

“Helen’s a teddy bear. You’ll be fine Pom-Pom.” Naomi says, breaking Sienna from traveling down the deep well of despair her thoughts were taking her too, before skating away herself. Leaving Sienna with the image of her future hanging in the balance with something she’s never done before.

Now, as she’s brought back to her present moment, with Naomi by her side, and her teammates awaiting her, Sienna steps out onto the ice.

No going back now.

Sienna skated to center ice, Naomi closely behind. Helen was waiting with red sweatpants, white T-shirt and a smirk. Sienna and Helen stand face-to-face. The others in attendance form a circle around them.

“Alright, Let’s see if Little Fragile Hands can fight. Helen don’t kill the poor girl but do what you do.” Paula announces.

Sienna looks behind her at Naomi who gives her a thumbs up before putting in the mouthguard. Sienna feels a rough forceful jerk at her shirt, turning her sight sharply back forward to find Helen right in her face, her fists pulling at her shirt. Before Sienna could register what was happening, she felt her body act on autopilot. Her hands tightened into fists and struck once, twice, a third time until she found her blows turn into a blur.

Helen loosened her grip completely turning her back to Sienna, hands clasped to her face.

Sienna’s eyes wide, her breathing hard, adrenaline spiked, and her hands trembled. Helen turns, revealing her palms coated in red from her leaking noise. She spits on the ice below, painting a spot with her bloody saliva.

Helen’s looks at her palms and then back at Sienna. A crazed look appears in her eyes, and she presents Sienna with a crimson smile before swiftly moving toward her.

“Oh Shit.” Sienna utters, unable to move, she stands frozen in place before darkness consumes her from Helen’s right fist engulfing her vision in quick motion.

Sienna’s eyes flicker. Her sight blurry, her head pounding. Muffled sounds fill the silence until everything clears. A tattooed face is there to greet her.

“You still with Pom-Pom?”

Fog clouds her brain. Her body fails her as she tries move from the cold chill against her back.

“What happened?” Sienna asks. Naomi pulls her up slowly to a seated position.

“Well, Helen laid you out, but not before you bloodied her up a bit.” Naomi response.

“Yeah. You caught everyone off guard when your fists started flailing about. I think they call that fight-or-flight mode, and you clearly went into fight mode for that first couple of seconds.” Paula says kneeling next to her. Sienna didn’t even notice she was there until she spoke.

The memory of what happened begins to come back to her now. Sienna rubs her face realizing she lost the fight.

“So, I guess that’s it then? I’m off the team?” Sienna asks, her eyes watering and grief invades her. Everything she’s ever wanted and has worked for ever since she was a teenager, just went down the toilet in one instance.

“What do you mean?” Paula asks. Sienna looks up to her.

“You said you can’t count on someone to play beside you if they won’t fight with you. I lost to Helen.” She answers and watches Paula and Naomi exchange expressions.

“Um, you were never going to beat Helen. I knew that much when I heard you’d never fought before. I just needed to know that if it ever came time to fight, that you could, and you showed that once you started throwing your fists in a frenzy.” Paula continues.

“Yeah, it wasn’t a pretty site. It definitely was not your finest moment.” Naomi chimes in, drawing Sienna’s attention.

“Okay, thanks.” Sienna replies.

“I mean, you didn’t even look good doing it.”

“I got it.”

“You’re going to need a lot of work Pom-Pom.”

“Alright, I said I got it.”

“Okay enough you two, let’s go before coach finds out what we’re doing here. I don’t want to have to listen to another one of his lectures again.” Paula interrupts.

Naomi grabs Sienna’s left arm. A hand is put in front of her leading to the figure of Helen bent over before her. Traces of blood remain on her face despite an extensive clean up job in the bathroom.

“Come on, teammate.” Helen says.

Sienna takes in her surroundings. Naomi holding her as her side, Paula skating away with fellow members of her team following, and then at Helen’s extended hand, before finally taking it in her own.

Just as a phoenix rises out of the ashes. The old Sienna is gone, and a new Sienna has been born.