Crossed Over

by Santana Knox

I was opening a tomb, releasing dead parts of me that had been hiding, waiting for their day in the sun again, to give another chance for this shell of my body to live once more. That was what it felt like, to be a completely different person than the girl who used to put on these skates nearly every day and wreck her body until she had to be carried out of the track. I thought I’d buried that girl, sealed her casket with five-inch nails. But here she was, digging through the dirt to show her face again, wearing a satisfied smile as she crept closer to the surface with every piece of gear.