#Physiotherapy Aurora

[momentumtherapy]

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[littleadaline]

I Didn’t Know Where Else To Go [P.G6]

Warnings: Reader is unwell?? Angsty on the readers side??

Word count: 2.03k

A/N: wrote this while dealing with stomach flu, so it may be inconsistent or unpolished, sorry about it!!

A/N: Ramadan Kareem to all who partake in it!! May this Ramadan heal our hearts and bring our souls some much needed peace xx.

———————————————————

18:00

You had just gotten off the phone with the agency you had landed an internship with. After countless interviews and days of going back and forth to establish a schedule, you had finally received the green light for your internship. Grabbing your cat in your arms, you twirled around, letting a shriek of excitement.

“We did it Lucía!!” The ping of your phone stole your attention. It was Aurora.

[From Roro ✨🌸]:

Any news about the internship? I got a response for mine!

[To Roro ✨🌸]:

OMG RORO I GOT THE INTERNSHIP!! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT 😭 HBUUU?

[From Roro ✨🌸]:

ENHORABUENA AMIGA!! I GOT MINE AS WELL!

[To Roro ✨🌸]:

I’M SO PROUD OF YOU AURORA! I can’t wait for us to celebrate xx Is tonight any good??

[From Roro ✨🌸]:

Me too! Tonight is no good :( How about tomorrow?? I’ll ask Gavi to drop me off after his physiotherapy appointment.

Your face soured at the mention of Pablo. Pablo Páez Gavira was your friend’s little brother, and despite being the same age and having similar interests, you guys hated each other. You were always bickering, exchanging snarky and sarcastic remarks about one another. Pablo’s parents were deranged by their son’s behaviour, but Aurora saw something beyond the sarcasm and lack of agreement. She often teased the two of you, pushing you to at least pretend to like each other.

“If you end up even getting along with each other, you each owe me 20€.”

“Never.” Pablo responded, shooting the basket ball into the net.

19:00

In need to contain your excitement, you put on your shoes and left the house for a walk. Strolling around the neighbourhood, you admired the early sightings of springs; people keeping their windows open, the sound of music escaping onto the streets. The smell of dinner was not unfamiliar to your nose. You realized were near Pablo’s neighbourhood when you heard the ping of your email. The smile you had harboured for the last hour was quickly wiped away as you read the title of the email.

[Termination of your internship]

Dear Y/N Y/LN,

It has been brought to our attention by our hiring committee that it will be impossible for us to accommodate your personal schedule into the internship schedule. As such, due to the late application date and your uncooperative schedule, we are forced to rescind our offer for the internship. We wish you the best in your academic and professional career,

The Agency.

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Uncooperative schedule”? You knew your schedule was rather complicated, but at no point was the hiring committee bothered by it…nor had they said something either. You and the agency knew the weight this internship held for your final project this semester. If you couldn’t land an internship, you wouldn’t be able to hand in a project, and you’d automatically fail the class. Failing the class would mean you wouldn’t obtain your degree and your graduation would be delayed by a year as this class was only given during the winter. Something wet rolled from your cheeks and onto your phone screen. You didn’t know if it was tears or rain. You let your back slide against the street wall, an uneasy feeling taking over. You were hyperventilating, a million thoughts rolling in. Unable to think clearly, you ran to the only address you knew in this neighbourhood. Making it to the front of the house, you pounded at the door.

“Pablo? Pablo are you here? Please! Anyone?” You begged, sliding your body down the door as you cried uncontrollably. Your body was soaked from the rain, shivering as the wet clothes clang to you. 3 minutes had passed before rapid footsteps were heard and the door was opened in a hurry. You didn’t have the time to turn to look at whoever had opened the door before a pair of arms dragged you inside.

“Who’s that?” Pablo’s mom said, running into the entrance, apron still on.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Hey, hey, deep breaths. Look at me.” Aurora said, taking off your coat and shoes. Your chest was falling and rising at an alarming rate. Your sight was hazy as you fought tears.

“She’s freezing.” You felt Pablo’s mom dragging you to the bathroom upstairs, tears still streaming down your face. You were unable to stop. Aurora was behind you, frantically removing your soaked clothes. Pablo was following, still perplexed as to what had brought you to his house.

“I’ve got it from here,” Aurora held her hand in front of Pablo’s face. “Go get some towels and put them in the dryer for 10 minutes. Pablo do as I say or so help me God you won’t live to see another day. Now is not the time for your rivalry.” Aurora scolded her brother.

Pablo bit back his tongue, swallowing the comments he had. He obliged, rapidly jogging to his laundry closet before grabbing his fluffiest towels, and chucking them in the dryer. No matter how far back your rivalry went, he couldn’t help but feel worried about you. Your soaked clothes clinging to you, your face covered in a mixture of rain and tears, your sudden zombie-like state.

“Pablo? The dryer’s been done for 2 minutes now.” His dad’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He grabbed the towels and ran upstairs before softly knocking on the bathroom door. The door opened slightly, enough for him to peak at your slumped figure on the bathroom floor, still stuck in a zombie-like state. You were left in your bra and underwear as Aurora and her mom worked tirelessly to calm you down. Pablo’s heart broke at the sight of you. He just wanted to take away that pain.

“How’s she-”, he mustered up to say before the door closed back on his face.

“Vale, hija, respira.” Pablo heard his mom softly say from behind the door. Defeated, he walked back to his room and rummaged through his drawers. As fun as the rivalry was, the current sight made him want to burn the entire world. He dug through his clothes until he pulled a matching sweatpants and sweater set. He put the set in a basket, heading to the guest room where he grabbed the fluffy socks he kept. He grabbed those before heading down to his laundry room and putting them in the dryer to warm them up. While waiting for the dryer to finish, he walked back to the kitchen where he poured you a bowl of soup, previously made with care by his mother, and boiled some water for tea. The dryer had been done for a few minutes now when he heard the sound of the bathroom door open. He ran, skipping steps, to hand the clothes to his sister. Aurora took the clothes without hesitation, simply thinking Pablo for his actions. Gavi knew you were soon going to come out of the bathroom, so he left the food and tea on the guest bedside table. Soon enough, Aurora helped you get in bed. You had regained some colour, your hair now clean and in a braid. You were wearing the set Gavi had warmed up, the clothes baggily hanging around your body. Gavi’s inner self breathed a sight of relief seeing you settled in bed, a more peaceful look on your face.

“I’m gonna help mamá clean up the bathroom. Make sure she stays warm and at least drinks the tea or eats the soup.” She patted him on the back before closing the door behind her. Gavi simply nodded, feeling the need for rivalry fading away.

“Vale…” Gavi awkwardly sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you want the tea?”

“Did you poison it Gavira?”

Gavi chuckled, taking your sarcasm as a sign of wellness.

“No, I didn’t. Tea or soup?” He tried to sound annoyed, but his newly found care for you betrayed him.

“Soup smells delicious. I could recognize your mom’s soup from miles away.” You laughed weakly.

Gavi grabbed the tray with the bowl of soup and approached the bed. He sat on the corner before bringing a spoonful to your lips.

“Mhhh…” you moaned in delight. “Gimme more.” You felt your body slowly regaining its strength. You sat up on the bed, Gavi feeding you one more spoonful of soup.

“Y/N, what happened? You had us all scared.” Pablo confessed, setting aside the bowl of soup.

You sighed, debating telling your newfound friend the truth.

“I…um. You know that class Aurora and I are taking? The one where we need to intern with a company related to the theme assigned to us? Well, if we don’t land an interview by the deadline, we automatically fail the class. And up until,” you checked your phone. “2 hours ago, I had an internship. Until I received an email telling me that they had to rescind their internship offer due to schedule issues. And if I don’t pass this class, I have to wait a whole year to retake the class. Which also means my graduation is delayed.”

“I don’t get it… How could they do this?” Gavi angrily asked. “What theme were you assigned?”

“Gavi… I’m not sure you can help in this situation…” Gavi’s eyes pierced through yours, desperately trying to uncover your secret. He had this kindness in his eyes, something you had never noticed before…. Maybe because you were too busy being at each other’s throats.

“What theme were you assigned?” He asked a second time.

“Media in sports…”

“You’re doing it with us and that’s final. I’ll contact the media department first thing in the morning. They don’t have any interns for this term, they should be able to accommodate you. I may have to twist Xavi’s arm for this, and sprinkle in some emotional manipulation, but you know the mister, he can’t say no to these puppy eyes.” He bragged.

Gavi fed you a new spoonful of soup, slowly taking more space on the bed.

“What brought you here?”

You almost chocked on your soup, the brutality of Gavi’s question taking you by surprise.

“Oye Gavira, are you trying to kill me with your brutal questions?” You heard Gavi laugh, something you never dreamed you’d be able to hear coming from him. “Since you want to know, I went on a walk to contain the excitement of the news, and I made it to your neighbourhood when I received the email. I guess my instinct just kicked in, and I ran to your house. I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go…” you said, defeated.

You heard Gavi put down the bowl on the tray before he shuffled closer, pulling you into a hug. Shocked, you simply laid there, your arms laid on your side. Your body turned on auto-pilot and you hugged him back. You didn’t know Gavi was capable of such signs of affection, especially not with someone he’s been bickering with for the last decade. On the other side of the interaction, Gavi’s mind was rolling at 200 km/h. *What are you doing cabrón? You’re supposed to hate each other. Let her go! Push her away! Wait, this feels natural, almost meant to be…*

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened to you. Aurora was boasting about how happy she was you obtained the internship with this agency. I can’t imagine how it must feel.” He whispered. You both stayed in a comfortable silence until he spoke up again. “You look tired, do you want me to leave?” He slowly got off the bed, but you pulled him right back down.

“Stay. Your presence is somewhat comforting. I don’t know what your mom put in this soup, Gavira, but it’s making you less… annoying.”You sighed, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. You heard Gavi laugh, a low but subtle chuckle, and smiled to yourself. Gavi was lying on his back, his arms crossed on his chest.

“Can I… Can I lay my head on your chest?” You asked him, your voice growing shy at the request.

Gavi was slightly taken aback, but nonetheless nodded, his heart fluttering at the thought of you being so close to him. He heard the sheets shuffle before he felt your head snuggle in on his chest. He swore right away in this moment that he was done with the animosity, the backbiting, the jokes. He was going to let you in. He was going to properly love you. He was going to cherish you. And in that split second, he realized he owed Aurora 20€, not that he minded anymore.

“Sleep tight nena.” Gavi’s hand found your hair, slowly stroking it.

[searchingforakeythatdoesntexist]

Asks game

6, 16, 21

Hi @seraphhiim ! Thanks for your ask!❤️‍🩹

6.Do you prefer drawing or writing? 

Aouch, tough one! Let me think about it...🤔

Both are great but can be difficult in their own way - for me, at least. Drawing allows me to express a feeling, a scene, a memory, and if I'm doing it good, anyone might be able to understand with just one glance, even if they don't know my language or how to read. It's kind of... universal? But sometimes it can be less precise or misunderstood.

Writing is my favorite way of expression since 20 years - when I'm not blocked because burn-out or depression. When the words flow in my head, it feels like freedom, everything seems possible. But sadly, I'm not able to write like this in English, only in French.

So... both. Both is good 😁

16. Want any tattoos? What of? 

If I wasn't afraid of needles or changing my mind later - quite common with me - I would have already had one! About an symbol I have created for one of my previous fanfictions because it means so much more to me.

(Other life, other fandom, other website. Search for something called "Foedus Aurorae"...)

Right now, I think I would go for something much personal. One of my own wings, certainly. But not necessarily on my back or my shoulder, because I would like to be able to see it easily. And remind myself that the freedom of creation exists, and that I just need to allow myself to embrace it.

21. How was your day today? 

Honestly? Quiet, but anxious and a little bit sad until now. I miss drawing, but I have to wait 4 weeks more before being able to remove my wrist orthesis. And even then, I'll have to do physiotherapy, so dunno how things will go. But you know what? Writing all of this reminded me that I have other ways to create❤️‍🩹. Let's go to writing! Ooor finally give a try to an abstract painting project I'm thinking about for a while!❤️‍🔥

Thank yoouuuu🥰

Next ask?

[meloinmilan]

French Class

I really have to start writing down all the topics I want to talk about in my blogs, because yesterday I had like 20 ideas and now they're all gone.

Day 24, Time 10:04 am, Currently in French class (we have free time).

Yeah, I have no idea what I am going to talk (write) about I guess as I go I'll figure it out. Let's start with school, Tomorrow I am going to take part in the Italian Math Olympics, which really is just for fun. Our school is just giving us the question sheets and we can choose to participate or not without having to pay for it. Yes, I started this blog in French class but now I'm home writing some more. In French class, my classmates and I did a practice presentation for the, in two weeks, summative presentation about songs from memories that are special to us. Of course in French, and surprisingly it went better than I thought it would, I'm pretty okay at french.

After French class, we had an hour of math, which on Wednesdays is normally the extended math day. So the class is for people who do extended math, not me. The other people get a practice test to make and understand what we learned Monday and Tuesday better. The whole day yesterday I thought it was Thursday because during the lunch break, when we're supposed to go outside, Aurora, Luther, and I worked on our clay art project. Which I will also work on tomorrow in art class. After school, we worked on it too, or at least Luther and I did. So on my way home, I was a bit confused about what day it was, which was much later.

Because after Luther and I worked on our project I didn't bike home but biked more towards the center of the city to go to physiotherapy. It was so relaxing, I always like it, and the physiotherapist always gives me advice on what to do to help my back from hurting. Only after that, I got home, and by then it was already 18:00 so it's late but I don't have that much homework. Just a whole bunch of projects that are due soon, the one I just talked about being a clay sculpture for art made with the pinch-pot technique. Then there is the math investigation due next Friday. Then my group and I are making a magazine for geography about the area around our school.

And then in general there is my personal project I have to work on more than I have been. I'm not sure I have mentioned it before but right now I have to decide what parts of the brain replica are going to be able to take off and what pieces are together as one piece. For now, I already have an idea what material it is going to be made of, paper-mache, because that is easy, light and, I will be using recycled materials from my household.

So yes, eventually I did find out what to talk about, I have an idea for next time too and I am going to write it down right now. Okay, I wrote it down. Normally I have the most time and motivation to write during my free time at school during classes. So I might not blog tomorrow because then it's a busy day but I will probably write Friday before the weekend sometime. Write you next time!

01 - 12 - 2021

[jamie-tartt]

Ah thank you for kindly sharing that part, nice, Mateo's getting Angel back then, I was sad to see him sad! I just have 7 tattoos for now but, when I got my first ones I had to stop physiotherapy and sport until the cicatrization was done! Also in the show it's often hard to place when what happens, there's not much clarity on how much time passes between episodes or during one or whatever so 😂 so it's okay I guess! Also it adds and plays a major role in viewers emotions but the "victims/callers" actors are like, so so good? Even in season 1 some made me so so teary! That hits hard!

mateo is so pure of heart that no one wanted to be the one to tell him that his tattoo was spelt incorrectly 🥺 that’s true. time’s not real in shows lol. i was hoping that s2 would pick up after the whole aurora borealis car moment/tk getting shot (so we could see tarlos develop a bit more) but they just fast forwarded to present day with covid. yes, those actors really are giving their all. i knew what was going to happen with the dad in that car crash scene. i could sense it when they were arguing in the car. if he got out of it basically uninjured, it would’ve been too easy. the space one in s1 really got me 😩 i think it got everyone though. 

[coxwellphysio]

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[rebirthuntilthesunsetburst]

Sucker Punched (Ch.4, Aurora)

    I slammed to the ground, only faintly catching my breath

    Jared’s hit had landed right in my gut. I caught myself with my hands but they clashed hard with the ground, the vibration of the fall slithering through me.

    “Repeat that again!”, Benzo bit out from the upper guardrail. He leaned with the back against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest. His eyes pierced together, two black bricks wearing holes into me.

    I swallowed, ignoring Jared’s hand and pushed myself up to my feet. I rounded him, as I took my previous stance: my feet wide apart, hips sat back while tightening the rest of my body. My arms raised in front of me, hands billed to fists in a defensive manner.

    I knew I was weak, and didn’t know how to fight by myself, but I’d had other arms to protect myself.

   I’d forgotten the knife. That was my only mistake.

    Yet my defiance gave away under the awareness of my fatal mistake and its consequences. It didn’t matter that I was his sister. It didn’t matter that I fought better with knives in my hands.

    Nothing mattered but the fact that my body was still weak under the hands of a man. Benzo hated that I was a woman, because it was weakness when it counted as such.

    So this was what he choose. Having me fight with an MMA soon-to-be member of the league. At least, he hadn’t asked a stronger professional. Jared was nice and I was aware that he went easy on me.

    Benzo didn’t like that, primarily because my body gave away under his force anyway. After every hit, my body slumbed like a wet sack.

    But this wasn’t the loss I truly mourned. When it came to the point, I failed in real life and not under the safe conditions of a fighting ring. I was weak outside and that meant I couldn’t survive on my own.

    I wondered if it pleased Benzo a bit, even just a tiny bit.

    However, he’d hated that I lost valid information.

    Valid, secret information that now belonged to whoever attacked me last night.  

    My skin crawled at the memory of his hands on me, his lips on mine.

    Not only an attack, but harassment as well. How deep had I fallen in the eyes of my brother? Since he didn’t think I was beautiful enough to encourage a genuine appreciation for my looks in a man, he’d thought I had provoked it. He had snickered and asked me whether I’d liked it or not.

    In that moment I hadn’t known if I wanted to cut his face with my knife or mine.

    Jesus. Get a grip, girl.

    Bad things happened in our world. Worse things had happened and I had to chase those memories out of my head regularly.

    Last night was nothing compared to what I have only seen.

    I simply couldn’t let go of this unsettling loss of control. No one touched me. No one spoke to me. No one attacked me or else I’d kick them out of my way.

    “You ready, girl?” Jared’s voice snapped me out my thoughts.

    “Do not give her a heads up. Simply. ATTACK”, Benzo’s voice echoed through the room.

    I gasped at Jared taking a step back, before rolling his head and charging at me. I turned, made a fast escape from his body and looked at him from his left side. In under a second he’d taken my arm and thrown me over his shoulder onto the floor. Bam! My shoulder ached, ripping – at least it felt like that and I crashed to the ground.

    I whimpered, slamming my hands on my face. It hurt, everything hurt so badly.

     “Fuck! I think I hit her too hard, Ben”, Jared yelled as he tried to take my hands and pull me up.  I wouldn’t move though. My shoulder felt dislocated, my back ached and I still could feel the ricochet of my crash.

    I heard loud footsteps as Benzo approached us, leaning over me with a still impression. He shook his head as he let his hands glide over my head, checking if there was any blood. “Let’s get her to the doctor, then. I’m sure it’s only a minor inconvenience.”

X

    Jared had insisted on joining us. I could tell from Benzo’s demeanor that it didn’t please him. In those moments when I was fragile as now he wanted me for himself. Either to soothe his ego or isolate me in my pain – I didn’t know.

     I kept my hands around his neck as he carried me through the sliding doors of the hospital. I could only look at the flickering lights at the top as Dr. Lucas dressed all in white approached us quickly.

     “Benedict, so good to see you my friend”, he greeted my brother with the friendliest smile I have ever seen. It probably suited his polite nature to act amicable to Benzo. No one liked Benzo, not even kind people. Yet he gestured us to follow him and continued to ask my brother several questions about our life. How have we been? How did the accident happen? Was I in much pain? Did I look forward to spring break next week?

     At this enquiry my brother nudged my elbow and I nodded, trying to look honest. Dr. Lucas smiled at me as he applied pressure to my shoulder. I winced as he tried to move it from my side.      “Dislocated shoulder. Various bruises on her back, arms and legs. I order her to not do any sports during the coming weeks. She can start again around the 13th. Anything beforehand would only risk her healing.” He smiled at us. “Here is the prescription for the pain killers and physiotherapy.” He pushed the envelope into Benzo’s hand, who crunshed with his teeth. Dr. Lucas stared undeterred at us both, expectantly.

     “Thank you, Doctor”, I interrupted the silence and gave him a small smile. Out of my right eye I could see Jared’s posture slumbing. He wasn’t used to hitting a woman. He felt guilty.

      I sighed.

     It wasn’t his fault that my brother was a lunatic, who had probably forced him with blackmail to mess me up. He seemed like a really nice guy despite causing the pain on my shoulder.

     Benzo said nothing as he carried me out of the office. He smelled like nicotine and sweat. He needed a shower. We passed a couple of the patient rooms and by chance I caught sight of two adults entering the room of a girl. The tubes of a breathing device snaked around her face, into her nose. Curious I sat myself up in Benzo’s arms who paused at my movement.  Holding my head to his shoulder, I focused on the family.

     The parents initially stood close to her bed as the woman slouched down to embrace her daughter into her arms. The machine made some squeals. The father stood in the background, his back to me but I could tell the emotion he felt from his deep breaths.

     The girl couldn’t be older than 10, 12 at most.

     “We have to go, Rora”, Benzo whispered, while nudging my face with his nose. I turned my head and stared right into his eyes, wondering why couldn’t be like this family. The love between them seemed to vibrate through the whole room out to us. No one could deny it.

    We weren’t like them though. I wasn’t his true family. He wouldn’t accept me as such.

     Such a fragile thought to have of a man who’d done nothing but hurt me my whole life. It’s why I refrained from dreaming at night. I wanted nothing because everything only existed in my imagination.

     I just hoped he wouldn’t become more evil.

     The blacks of his eyes that sometimes turned into a dark blue scanned my face like I knew he always did. I blinked and broke away.

     Nothing is meant to last because sin evaporates the soul.

     “We can go home. Can we stay together at home and you read me something from one of your books?”

     His eyes lost in constant despair, forlorn the hints of kindness from a few seconds before.

     Yet he nodded. My heart skipped a beat.

     I didn’t crave him. I simply craved the last drops of water like a parched traveler in the desert.

     I had no idea what love was but sometimes those moments of tenderness echoed in my heart as if they were remnants of such emotion.

X

     The same sinister smile that had touched my soul that night broke out on his face now. My breath stilled as I’d just held him close to me. It didn’t mirror the smile he showed me rarely, the honest truth beneath the cold surface. My hands stroked his shoulders as I tried to maintain the intimacy between us.

     “Kiss me again”, I begged, leaning my head back, offering him my face, my neck, my mouth. It all stood open for him, ready to break under his touch.

     He leaned down, his mouth hovering over my skin. The warmth of his breath installing sensations over my skin. “You really wanna fuck your own blood?”

     My eyes ripped open at this remark and I looked into Cooper’s viciously amused smile. His body shook as the crackle of his laugh echoed in my mind.

     NO!

     I broke out of the surface into my conscience. Wide awake, I sat up in my bed. My pulse quicker than it should be and only the ache in my shoulder reminded me that I’d settled back into reality.

     “Hey”, my companion whispered. “Are you okay, Aurora?” Joslyn caressed my knees that I’d pulled up to my chest. My friend and one of the rarely kind fellow workers in our establishment leaned on her right arm to look at me. “Have you had the bad dream again?”

     I shook my head. No. This time the only faint memory of pleasure had turned into a nightmare, which had been worse.

     I hated it when different flavors blended together. The bitter aftertaste wouldn’t disappear so soon.

     Pleasure and fear, disgust and desire – it all lied so close in my head. I didn’t know how long I’d take it.

     I lied back on the bed, trying to console myself that it hadn’t been reality. It had been a dream, a nightmare. Everyone carried their nightmares around with them. That was normal.

     “Tell me the story again of how you escaped Chicago. Tell me about your dancing on that road trip.”

     Joslyn giggled and started to whisper, while caressing my face.

     If anyone could talk about their journey on the highway to hell, then it was Joslyn.

     I snuggled closer to her side, lying my head on her shoulder and drifted to sleep under the narration of abusive fathers, funny barkeepers that let you stay over for fun, evil roommates that cut your hair in the night out of jealousy that you’d eventually get the job at the casino …

     Every woman at my brother’s place carried their scars with them and yet proceeded to smile for the show. The men pretended to be the ones in charge, but it was those fragile flowers that had been torn and beaten countless times that determined the outcome of the night.

     Joslyn was the complete opposite of me. Quiet, demure and friendly. I couldn’t believe that someone like her lead the live she lived.

     She seemed too beautiful, too wholesome, but every scarred person didn’t carry their own on to the outside.

     Skin healed over time, but the right spirit doesn’t.

     Joslyn was very reserved which at times gave the impression that she was shy. She didn’t trust any strangers, but in the world we lived in that meant strength and not weakness.

     “Are you okay now?”, she asked as she drew images into my arm, a habit she had picked up once she realized it soothed my nightmares and eased my stress. “I feel horrible about what happened to you today. I can’t fathom the thought of someone – a man – hitting you.”

     “Me neither”, I whispered. It unnerved me that today had shaken me so badly, but it felt good that she cared. I had ended up with Benzo on the couch after all, watching him read. I had eventually dozed off in his arms and woken up in our room – Joslyn’s and mine.

     While I didn’t claim myself to be the friendliest person, and really I had no friends, I couldn’t let her continue working and sleeping at the other women’s “dorm”. It was one of the few pseudo-collective ventures of my brother which in reality functioned as a secret gateway for suitors to arrive and steal the girls away. Since Joslyn had been the one to approach me first, it felt like I owed her.

     Her words had stuck. The genuine kindness in her eyes, the way she always nodded at me before she left with someone.

     After four agonizing weeks of pleading and becoming a desperate set of feet following Benzo around, he had given in. He’d changed her profession from prostitute to simply performer; the same way he changed her home to mine.

     “I don’t understand how possessive he is of you at time, and then – snap! – he acts like he doesn’t care”, she sighed.

     “I think he is possessive of everything, but most importantly his own control”, I replied. “Nothing can stay out of place. I lost important information and he knows that the consequences will hit him harder than before.”

     “Well, then he shouldn’t instruct you to go out there and steal it! I mean you’re his sister and a woman … what if one of your clients realizes where you are up at night, roaming through their house?”

     I snorted, pondering if I should let her know that I had a great way of sending them off to sleep at night.

     “They are very relaxed around me, Jo. They’d never suspect anything because I am so sweet to them. The problem isn’t the job, the problem is me – I wasn’t careful enough. I didn’t notice that someone was following me in the first place, nor that the window was open when I walked through the corridor”, I retorted. “It’s also not wise to question my brother’s morals. He has none. I am the sole reason you’re here with me. I’m … maybe I’m human. I can’t say the same about my brother.”

     I remembered his arms around me, the smell of orange that indicated he had showered to be with me, the way his tone had become soft for me.

     I shook off those thoughts of a different reality that only seemed to return from time to time. Not permanent, nothing was permanent.

     Nothing is meant to last because sin evaporates the soul.

[adrianreeves-blog]

TEXT: Adrian // Aurora

Aurora: how was your physiotherapy today babe?

Aurora: did they give you any stretches to do at home?

Adrian: it was fine

Adrian: yeah, a few, but I honestly just spent most of today at work stretching out.

[americanbuildings]

North side. - Fitzsimons General Hospital, Physiotherapy & Electrocardiograph Department Building, North of Building No. 516, East of corridor connecting Building No. 511 to Building No. 515, Aurora, Adams County, CO

[yorkconcussion-blog]

Do you suspect that your co-workers roll their eyes when they hear you will be away again because ‘your concussion is acting up’? Do you want to convince them that you are genuine but don’t know how? Does the stigma of ‘faking it’

[mrexterminator-blog]

Physiotherapists  Specialist in Aurora | Coxwell Physiotherapy Centre

Coxwell Physiotherapy Centre is an advanced Physiotherapist Centre in Aurora. We have the best  physiotherapists providing physiotherapy exercises, treatment and more at the comfort in your area. Our professionals are trained to treat symptoms of injury and disease.

https://www.coxwellphysio.com/

[coxwellphysio]

Acupuncture is a one of the oldest medical practices in the world. It can decrease your pain, reduce inflammation and promote healing within the body. At Coxwell Physiotherapy Centre, our team understands that our main priority is patients relief their pain. If you need Acupuncture Service in your area, call 905-841-7126.

[magicofword]

Dies sind die Geheimnisse, die Ballerinas dir nicht erzählen werden

"Ihren Namen und mit wem Sie einen Termin haben, bitte." Es ist 10:15 Uhr und ich stehe am Bühneneingang zum Royal Opera House, während ich der forschen Empfangsmitarbeiterin die Informationen mitteile. Plötzlich überkommt mich ein Gefühl von nervöser Unruhe, doch nach einem kurzen Telefonanruf und einem prüfenden Blick ihrer Argusaugen werde ich durchgelassen und betrete geweihten Boden: das innere Heiligtum des Royal Ballet. Draußen auf der Floral Street verbindet eine hohe Brücke das Gebäude mit der gegenüberliegenden Royal School of Ballet. Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed Betitelt als Bridge of Aspiration (Brücke der Hoffnung) ist sie ein Symbol der Träume von allen Tänzern, die hier trainieren. Als ich vor Jahren durch diese Straße lief, baten mich zwei aufgeregte Teenager, ein Junge und ein Mädchen, ein Foto von ihnen vor der Tür zu machen, durch die ich jetzt gerade getreten war. In der Erwartung, ein Foto mit lächelnden Touristen zu knipsen, visierte ich sie mit der Kamera an und siehe da: Sie traten in Aktion. Mäntel und Schals wurden abgelegt und plötzlich sprang das Mädchen hoch, in die Arme ihres Begleiters und streckte ihr Bein in die Luft, in einer perfekt balancierten Pose. Seitdem hat das, was hinter dieser Bühnentür lag, eine unermessliche Anziehungskraft auf mich ausgeübt. Nun bin ich hier. In einem einfachen Bereich mit zwei Glastüren, die die Mitarbeiter und die Tänzer von der Außenwelt trennen, mit Brieffächern, gestapelten Unterlagen auf den Tresen, an Pinnwänden gehefteten Notizen und einem stetigen Strom von dick eingehüllten Menschen, die betriebsam hinein- und herauslaufen und stehenbleiben, um zu lächeln und sich miteinander zu unterhalten. Es ist alles so normal. Doch die Frau, mit der ich mich hier treffen werde, ist alles andere als das. Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed Marianela Núñez, unter Bekannten meist "Nela" genannt, ist ein aus Argentinien stammendes Wunderkind, das seit dem Alter von drei Jahren tanzt. Mit neun Jahren trat sie der größten Ballettschule in Argentinien bei. Normalerweise trainieren Tänzer hier zehn Jahre lang, doch Núñez begann bereits nach fünf Jahren, in einer professionellen Ballettkompanie zu tanzen. Im Alter von 15 Jahren landete sie in London, wo sie ein Vertragsangebot von der Royal Ballet Company erhielt – nur, um dann die Royal Ballet School besuchen zu müssen, als man feststellte, dass sie ein Jahr zu jung war, um professionell tätig zu werden. Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed Als sie zwölf Monate später die Brücke der Hoffnung überquerte, ging glücklicherweise alles schnell: Nach nur anderthalb Jahren im Corps de Ballet wurde sie die erste Solotänzerin im Alter von 17 Jahren. Mit 20 wurde sie eine Primaballerina. Für diejenigen, die sich mit Ballett nicht auskennen: Primaballerinas sind die Prinzessinnen Aurora, die Kitris, die Carmens – alles Rollen, die Núñez im Laufe ihrer knapp 20 Jahre bei der Ballettkompanie getanzt hat. Als wir aus einem Fahrstuhl in der Größe eines Gewerbeaufzugs stiegen, sagt Camilla, der Pressekontakt bei unserem Besuch, dass Núñez bereits bei ihrer ersten Klasse ist. Bei diesem täglichen Aufwärmtraining herrscht striktes Zugangsverbot für die Presse. Es ist eine heilige Zeit, in der sich die Tänzer ohne jegliche Ablenkungen konzentrieren können. Also löchere ich erstmal Camilla mit Fragen, während wir die Aussicht über die Dächer von Covent Garden genießen. Überall im Opernhaus finden Bauarbeiten statt, die, wie ich erfahre, noch mindestens bis ins nächste Jahr fortgesetzt werden. Außerdem wird an der Vorderseite des Hauses gearbeitet, ein Projekt, das darauf abzielt, den Haupteingang zugänglicher erscheinen zu lassen. "Von außen vermittelt er noch immer ein Gefühl von Exklusivität, das wir nicht wirklich wollen", teilt Camilla aufrichtig mit. "Natürlich ist es etwas Besonders, in das Opernhaus zu gehen, doch wir möchten, dass so viele Leute wie möglich das Gefühl haben, dass das hier etwas für sie ist." Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed Dieser Kommentar stößt bei mir auf offene Ohren. Für einen Ballettliebhaber mit knappem Budget ist das Royal Ballet überraschend erschwinglich. Für 5 Pfund (etwa 5,70 Euro) bekommt man einen Parkettsitz oben im Dachsparren. Du wirst dir zwar den Hals verrenken müssen, doch die Aufführungen sind sogar aus dieser Höhe noch immer von Magie erfüllt, die Kostüme glitzern nach wie vor und die Pas de deux sind auch weiterhin ein Vergnügen. Ich kann das bestätigen, da ich die aktuell laufende Aufführung von Dornröschen bereits dreimal gesehen habe. Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed Es gibt zwei Klassen: eine weibliche Klasse und eine männliche Klasse. Letztere bietet ein riesengroßes Zuschauerfenster, durch das wir einen Blick werfen, bevor wir uns auf den Weg zu der Klasse mit den Tänzerinnen machen. Obwohl Primaballerinas frei entscheiden können, in welcher Klasse sie trainieren wollen, unabhängig vom Geschlecht, hat Núñez sich dazu entschlossen, die Frauenklasse zu besuchen. Dort ist das einzige Fenster zum Hineinschielen ein spärliches, nur wenige Zentimeter großes Stück Kunsstoffglas in der Tür. Hier ergattern wir einige Sekunden lang den Einblick in einen Raum voller knochenhart ausgebildeter Tänzerinnen in Bewegung, darunter eine sich anmutig bewegende Núñez. Als sie heraustritt, ist es schwierig, die warme und sofort sympathische Person mit der fließenden, perfekten Figur in Einklang zu bringen, die wir zuvor gesehen hatten. Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed Was beim ersten persönlichen Treffen mit Núñez auffällt, ist, wie menschlich sie ist. Nachdem ich mehrere Male Schwanensee gesehen hatte, war ich darauf vorbereitet, einer wunderschönen jedoch neurotischen Tänzerin im Stile von Natalie Portmans Nina zu begegnen. Diese Frau ist das Gegenteil – ebenso wie die gesamte restliche Ballettkompanie. Die Tänzer laufen umher und fühlen sich dabei offensichtlich wohl und bei den Proben, die wir besuchen, steht die Kameradschaft an erster Stelle. Dies sind alte Freunde, die seit Jahren zusammenarbeiten. Als ich nach den Tänzerinnen frage, die sie am meisten inspiriert haben, sagt Núñez, dass es zu viele sind, um sie alle zu nennen, doch sie sieht gern ihren Kollegen zu – sie sitzt in deren Aufführungen in der ersten Reihe. Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed Das heißt nicht, dass es keinen Konkurrenzkampf gibt. "Die Konkurrenz ist gegenwärtig", sagt Núñez. "Es gibt Leidenschaft. Es gibt Besessenheit, jedoch eine schöne Form von Besessenheit bezogen darauf, was wir tun. Wir sind verrückte Perfektionisten, allerdings braucht Ballett diese gute Art von Verrücktheit. Es ist diese Verrücktheit, die Kunst schafft." Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed Und für Núñez ist es Kunst. Wegen der Extreme, zu denen die Balletttänzer ihre Körper treiben, werden sie von vielen als Athleten bezeichnet, doch Núñez lehnt diesen Begriff strikt ab. "Es gibt eine gewisse Athletik, aber es ist mehr eine Form von Kunst", sagt sie. "Wir müssen sehr darauf achten, diese dem Publikum auch zu bieten. Man kann sehr schnell laufen und sehr hoch springen – das ist jedoch kein Ballett. Man muss versuchen, der Kunstform treu zu bleiben." Das heißt nicht, dass sie die schieren Ebenen der Stärke nicht anerkennt, die Ballett fordert, wenn Tänzer danach streben, sich Tag für Tag auf neue Höhen zu kämpfen. "Das, was wir jetzt mit unseren Körpern machen können, konnten die Menschen früher nicht", sagt sie. "Gestern Abend tanzte ich reinstes klassisches Ballett. Heute habe ich meine Hose an und mache zeitgenössischen Tanz – das sind zwei starke Gegensätze. Und die Tänzer drängen nun sogar das traditionelle Ballett in die Extreme. Das wird am besten deutlich, wenn wir für zwei kommende Shows proben: After the Rain, ein Ballett von Christopher Wheeldon aus dem Jahr 2005 und The Human Seasons, ein Ballett von David Dawson aus dem Jahr 2013. Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed "Es ist wunderbar, dass wir hier im Royal Opera House, die Vergangenheit respektieren, jedoch auch in die Zukunft blicken", sagt Núñez zum Repertoire der modernen Tänze im Opernhaus. Es ist ein heftiger Wechsel von Parkettsitzen, bei denen man sich den Hals verrenkt, zu einem Sitzplatz in der Mitte der ersten Reihe bei einer Probe. Am Ende des herzzerreißenden emotionalen Pas de deux zwischen Núñez und ihrem Partner Thiago Soares – ohne Kostüme und nur von einem Klavier begleitet – merke ich plötzlich, dass ich vergessen habe zu atmen. Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed Als wir von Raum zu Raum gehen, von einer Probe zur Anprobe zur nächsten Probe, kommt das überwältigende Gefühl eines in vollen Zügen ausgekosteten Lebens auf. Zwischen den Terminen werden Brötchen zur Stärkung gegessen und die Anweisungen sind immer auf den Punkt. Núñez ist stets höflich, doch ist sie eine Frau, die weiß, was sie will – von ihren Kostümen über ihre Physiotherapie bis hin zu ihren Schuhen. Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed Wir treffen Jane Latimer, die Spitzenschuh-Verwalterin im Royal Opera House und besuchen ihr Zimmer mit tausenden schimmernden Spitzenschuhen. Einige sind mit Edelsteinen geschmückt, einige haben verschiedene Farben und einige sind kreidig, doch die überwältigende Mehrheit ist perfekt Satinrosa und in den Fächern der Tänzerinnen reihenweise übereinander gestapelt. Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed "Die Mädchen haben zu jeder Zeit zwischen 40 und 120 Paar Schuhen in ihren Fächern", sagt Latimer. "Die Tänzerinnen bewegen sich immer auf diesem schmalen Grat, auf dem ihre Schuhe brechen, sie sie nähen, sie sie bis zur Perfektion tragen und dann darin tanzen. Marianela kann bis zu 60 Paare im Monat verbrauchen." Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed Dies ist ein weniger bekannter Aspekt der von Balletttänzerinnen geforderten Fähigkeiten, die über das Tanzen hinausgehen. Sie nehmen ihre eigenen Schuhe auseinander, fügen sie wieder zusammen, nähen sie und bearbeiten sie sogar mit dem Hammer, um sie genau passend zu machen. "Ein paar Millimeter hier und da können dafür ausschlaggebend sein, ob die Tänzerin sie tragen kann oder nicht", erklärt Latimer. Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed Die Kostüme werden in ähnlicher Weise bis zum kleinsten Detail bearbeitet. Ein Team von Schneidern steht hinter der Bühne bereit und passt Korsetts und Gürtellinien an, damit die Tänzerinnen sich möglichst ohne Behinderungen bewegen können, obwohl die Kostüme Bahnen von Tüll und Edelsteinen um sie herum kreieren. Vor der Show kann es mehr als drei Stunden dauern, sich vorzubereiten. Jede Sekunde zählt und es wird keine Einzelheit ausgelassen, um den Tänzerinnen zu helfen, ihr volles Potential auszuschöpfen. Es dreht sich alles um die ultrakurze Karrierespanne einer Tänzerin: Aufgrund der Belastung, mit der Ballett auf den Körper wirkt, können Ballerinas sich glücklich schätzen, wenn sie bis in ihre Vierziger tanzen können. "Ich sah Darcey Bussell in den Ruhestand gehen, als sie im Alter von 37 Jahren an der Spitze ihrer Karriere stand", sagt Núñez. "Sie tanzte auf eine so unglaubliche Weise – ich wollte sie anbetteln, nicht zu gehen! Das machte mir klar – es geht schnell. Du kannst keinen Tag verstreichen lassen. Bevor du geblinzelt hast, ist es vorbei." Die Karriere einer Tänzerin ist die einmalige Vorstellung ihres Lebens; in Wirbelwind aus verschiedenen Elementen, der ein erstaunlich schönes Erlebnis kreiert und dich wünschen lässt, dass es nicht endet. Für Núñez ist dieses treibende Verlangen, das Beste aus ihrer Zeit zu machen, alles durchdringend. Das Tanzen ist ihr Lebensblut und ihr Lebensstil unterstützt sie dabei, damit so lange wie möglich weiterzumachen. Sie raucht nicht, sie trinkt nicht und ihre Ernährung ist streng gesund. Ihr Lieblingsrestaurant, 26 Grains, befindet sich gleich um die Ecke vom Royal Opera House und ihr Lieblings-gericht ist Avocado auf Toast mit pochierten Eiern. Und genau dieses Gericht bestellt sie, als wir uns später beim Mittagessen dort unterhalten. Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed Perfektionismus ist die einzig wahre Bezeichnung für diesen Lebensstil. Schuhe, Kleider und Ernährung sind so sorgfältig gestrafft wie die perfekt platzierten Finger und Zehen. Zum Glück gibt es jedoch etwas Spielraum für menschliche Fehler. Ich erzähle, dass ich vor kurzem Zeuge einer auf der Bühne stolpernden Tänzerin wurde und frage, was normalerweise die negativen Konsequenzen für solche Ausrutscher sind. Núñez zuckt mit den Schultern. "Unfälle passieren – das könnte jedem passieren." Lachend beginnt sie eine animierte Nacherzählung ihrer eigenen Horrorgeschichte, als ob sie jede anhaltende Peinlichkeit, die die abwesende Tänzerin empfinden könnte, zerstreuen möchte. Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed "Letzten Dezember führten wir Der Nussknacker auf und an einer Stelle musst du auf die Schulter des Prinzen springen", erzählt sie. "Seine Jacke hat einen kleinen Haken, an dem sich meine Strumpfhose verfing. Als er mich absetzte, dachten wir, dass die Strumpfhose sich vom Haken lösen würde, doch das tat sie nicht. Er musste seinen Kopf über eine halbe Minute unten am Saum meines Tutus halten, während ich nur das Publikum anstarrte! Ich hab mich geschämt, aber jetzt können wir darüber lachen." Laura Gallant / BuzzFeed https://www.buzzfeed.com/lauragallant/bevor-du-geblinzelt-hast-ist-es-vorbei?utm_term=4ldqpia&utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

[momentumtherapy]

Experienced Clinical Therapists Aurora

Experienced Clinical Therapists Aurora 5 Star Rated Physiotherapists Aurora Special interest in Sports Injury rehabilitation and Spinal Pain relief We Direct Bill Book online!

Book an appointment

Website: https://momentumtherapy.ca/

Give us a Call: 905 727 3029

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Address: 15165 YONGE STREET, AURORA, Canada

Location: https://maps.app.goo.gl/w7pJBre1JjZUQyBb8