My big dream

I woke up to the sound of my foster mom’s harsh voice. “Get up, brat. I’m taking you to your hockey lesson”, she shouted. I got up, got dressed, grabbed my bag and came out of my room. She drove me there and grabbed my arm before I got out of the car. “I won’t be picking you up after your lesson. You’ll have to walk home, you little brat. Do you hear me”, she hissed practically in my face.

“Yes, mother”, I said. She released me and I walked inside the building.

I saw my skating coach standing in the hallway outside the locker room with two other people. I recognized them and my eyes widened. My coach must’ve seen my expression, for he laughed. “Yes, Lizzy. The Euro-Twins are going to be coaching you. And they also have their teammate, Niklas Kronwall, with them." My eyes widened and my mouth fell open.

"Coach, how on earth did you did you get them to come here?!" Coach laughed and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, gently squeezing me.

"We started a program last year where we can get calls from coaches who think that kids have special talent... extra special talent. You're the first girl we've had, though", Pavel said with a smile. I shrugged, grinning back.

"There's a first time for everything", I replied, raising an eyebrow. Hank grinned

. "First girl in the NHL, you mean?"

"Yes, that's what I meant. Seeing you guys play or practice... it's almost looks like you're free out there. Free from your everyday lives." -Your foster parents wouldn't like hearing you say that! Shut up, I don't care-. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of those thoughts. Right now wasn't the time for me to be worrying about the abuse I knew I was going to get when I got home: right now, I was about to be coached by the people I looked up to.

"Where did you get those thoughts from?"

I turned to see Niklas standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised.

"That's what happens when you're smart. You think things that most other people don't", I replied. He tilted his head at me, smiling.

"You're smart then?" "You could say that. I mean, I am getting all A's in school." -Despite the situation I'm in. They scare me but I'm still finding a way to rebel against them-

"Holy crap! You are smart! We'd better watch out for her." I bit my lip hard as a blush appeared over my cheeks.

"Alright, Kronner. Leave her alone. Let's go play some hockey." I readjusted the bag on my arm and grinned.

"Yes, let's go!!!"

I couldn't help but smile as the cold air of the ice hit my face. The ice-indoor or outdoors-was very important to me. It offered me freedom. Here, I wasn't getting abuse from my parents. Here, I could be myself: I didn't have to be scared or have to cringe every time I heard a footstep. I glanced up towards the ceiling and smiled when I saw the banners hanging in the rafters. Yes, I was at Joe Louis Arena-home of the Detroit Red Wings. This was where my boys played. I'd been here many times-my team sometimes practiced here-but there would never be a day where I wouldn't get starstruck being here. A gentle nudge in the side made me turn around. "You look pretty star-struck, squirt", Nick said. I grinned.

"Squirt? That's a new one! Well, yeah I'm star-stuck. I mean, this is where my heroes play." He smiled and reached out to give me a pat on the shoulder.

"Heroes, huh? Who's your favorite player?" I chuckled and glanced over at the Euro-Twins, who were playing around in the corner. "They're like magic, aren't they?" Nick glanced over at them, half-smiling.

"Yeah, they are. They do things out there that makes you scratch your head and ask: how did they do that? They do moves that people have never seen before."

We were quiet for a minute, watching the Twins do their magic before I glanced back up at him.

"Kronner?" He glanced down at me.

"Yes, Lizzy?"

"What made you want to be a defenseman?" He smiled.

"Well, Nick of course. I had always looked up to him when I was younger, and then when I started playing, I played like him. As for the hitting... I've just always enjoyed that part of the game. It was always fun for me."

"You hit, you get hit.. sometimes you win and sometimes you lose,that's just the way it is and that's just the way it SHOULD be. Those are your own words." He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Are you stalking me?!" I burst out laughing.

"Stalking you?! I don't stalk my heroes, silly! No, I saw the interview where you said that on Youtube. I've tried to relate that statement to life, too. In life, you get knocked down, you knock others down. You don't always win in life, just like you don't always win in hockey. That's the way life is and that's the way hockey SHOULD be."

There was a bit of quiet for a minute, but then the Twins skated over. Hank lightly tapped me on the leg with his stick, which I returned.

"Who's your favorite player?"

"When I was growing up, it was Stevie. Back in 2002, when he played through the playoffs with that horrible knee injury? Up until that point, I'd always respected him. But that was when he became my biggest hero." Hank smirked.

"And now?" I smiled.

"Kronner. I try to play my game like him." I lifted my head and laughed at the Twins' reactions. "That doesn't mean that you guys aren't great! Kronner is just who I play like." Nik wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me tight, causing me to hug him back. -aldsfjalksdfjlaksdfjl;askdfj. I just hugged my favorite player!!-

"What made you want to play hockey", Hank asked, passing me the puck. I smiled and took a hard slapshot at the net, causing Nik to raise an eyebrow. I laughed and slapped a high-five with him before I turned back to Hank.

"Seeing you guys win the cup. It was like magic to me. (I stop for a second to look at the banners hanging on the rafters.) Seeing those banners up there and seeing them being raised... it just was special. I loved it." Pavel smiled over at me.

"It is special! It's one of the most special things in the world." I smiled back, thinking off all those times I'd watched my boys lift the cup. I can see why it was so special: it's every hockey players dream. I am no different.

"Is it more special than winning a gold medal, Pav", Hank asked. I burst laughing out as Pavel sent him a glare. Hank and Nik had won the gold medal for Sweden back in 2006, which was probably why they were teasing him about it.

"Can you guys just leave him alone?! I want to play some hockey!" Hank gently tapped my leg with his stick and Nik gently squeezed my shoulder.

"Sure, squirt! We can do that." I smirked and gave him two hard taps on the leg.

"Good! You want to show me your best slapshot?"

“Thanks for working with me, you guys. I really enjoyed it”, I told them as we stood outside the locker room. Nick wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

“It was fun for us, too. It’s not every day that we coach a young player like you. We’re the ones usually being coached”, he said. Pavel was looking concerned.

“Won’t it be hard on you when we go out on a road trip”, he asked.

“No. Even I need a break sometimes and I’m just learning how to skate and use my stick”, I said. They all smiled at that. “I have to go. I’ll see you guys tomorrow”, I said quietly.

“Okay, Lizzy. We all look forward to coaching you again”, Hank told me. I smiled and skipped down the hallway with my bag over my shoulder. I just couldn’t wait until tomorrow!

“Will you quit staring and tell us what your problem is”, my foster mom snapped. I frowned.

“I don’t have a problem. I’m just dreaming”, I replied. My foster parents rolled their eyes.

“Dreams are for losers”, my foster dad said. I shook my head.

“No they’re not. Everyone has a dream. Mine is to play hockey”, I answered. My foster mom laughed.

“Play hockey for a job? That’s a laugh. You’re probably so bad your coach laughs at you”, she said with a sneer.

“No! My coaches say I’m good and they’re professionals”, I said angrily.

“NHL players? You lie. You’re not coached by them”, my foster dad snorted. I stood up from my chair, my eyes flashing with anger.

“I am, too. The coach I had before left and some NHL players from Detroit are coaching me now. You’re liars too if you don’t believe me”, I snapped. My foster mom came over, shoved me to the floor and smacked me hard across the face twice.

“Don’t you dare say that again, you ungrateful wretch. Go to your room right this minute”, she said. I went and closed the door behind me. I jumped on my bed and buried my head in my pillow. They had been treating me like this for a long time and I didn’t understand why. I wanted to get out of here and I had to wait until the next day. This was going to be a long night.

The next day, I was greeted by Nik as I came into the locker.

"Hey, Kronner", i said, holding my hand out for a high-five, He laughed and slapped me one.

"Hey, Lizzy! How are you... WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE?!" I winced. -Dammit!-

"Nothing, Kronner. I just... I just fell, okay?" He frowned and placed a hand on my arm.

"Lizzy. I've only known you for a day but i want to help you. Is someone hurting you?" I bit my lip hard. His blue eyes were so full of concern: I felt like I wanted to spill everything out right then and there. But I couldn't: he wouldn't like me after that.

"It's nothing", I said.

"Okay, fine. But I'm here to talk if you need it." I blushed and turned my head away, the gentleness in his voice causing the tears to fill my eyes. He knelt in front of me and placed a hand under my chin, pushing my head up so I could look him directly in the eyes.

"Lizzy, I swear on my father's grave that if anyone is hurting you, I will personally kick their butt."

Later that night, I was in my room doing homework when my foster mom came in, pulled me out of my chair, and threw me to the floor.

"What are you doing there, wretch?" I shivered,

"My...my homework." She laughed and slapped me hard across the face.

"Bitch! Homework isn't good, you know that?" I didn't answer so she smacked me again. "Answer me, you little bitch", she growled.

"Yes, mother." She grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up, throwing me against the bed.

"Remember, if you tell anyone about this, I will kill you." I nodded, my hands shaking like leafs. She smirked at me and left.

A few minutes later, my foster dad entered. He walked up to me and smacked me in the back of the head.

"Brat! You were supposed to get mother and I beers minutes ago." I slid off the bed and started walking towards the door when my foster dad grabbed my arm HARD and spun me around. "You are going to have a sip of my beer and this time don't protest, got it?" I didn't answer for a minute so he smacked me in the face. "Do you UNDERSTAND?!"

"Yes, father." He dragged me into the family room and pushed me towards the fridge. I let out a soft sigh before I grabbed my parents' beers and brought them out to them. My foster dad all but shoved the beer bottle in my face after he opened it. I took it from his hand and took a drink from it before I handed it back to him, using all my willpower not to make a disgusted face.

"Good beer, huh bitch?"

"Yes, mother. It was good beer." -Actually, no it wasn't! No 14-year-old should ever drink beer and I hate both of you and I hope someone treats you the same way you treat me- My mom started chugging down her beer and I watched in disgust (my face remained neutral, but on the inside I was disgusted). My foster dad noticed because he grabbed my arm and all but pulled me onto the floor.

"Are you watching my wife, you little brat? Huh? Didn't anyone teach you not to stare", he asked, hitting me in the back of the head. I opened my mouth, but my foster mom cut me off and reached down to pull me up and smacked me across the face.

"Go to your room right now, bitch", she growled, shoving me forward. I made my way to the bed room and fell onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow. -Sigh. This is going to be a long night.-

It was about a week later that I came to practice with some horrible pain in my back. Not only has I gotten hit hard multiple times in the last few games I'd played in, but my foster parents were making it a habit of shoving me hard onto the hardwood floor every half hour (at least it seemed that way to me). "Lizzy?!" I looked up to see Nik and Hank standing in front of me, eyebrows raised.

"Hey, guys", I said, wincing as I readjusted the bag onto my shoulder. Hank took the bag from me and rested his hand on my shoulder.

"What happened?" I shrugged.

"I got hit pretty hard during some of the last games I played in. Hurts like hell." Nik let out a curse under his breath.

"Do you play in a girl's league?" I nodded and he let out some more curses. "In a girls league, they're not supposed to do that! Did they get chewed out by their coaches?"

"They all got suspended, actually. The mom of one of the girls tried to claim that it was my fault because I wasn't paying attention." Hank let out a gasp and cursed.

"Damn! They should've gotten kicked out of the league. Those bruises are awful. It doesn't matter if you weren't paying attention, you still should not have gotten hit." Nik came around to my back and gasped when he saw the bruises on it.

"My gosh! It's making me sick just looking at those bruises! How did you play with those?"

"If I had sat out, the people out there would've said I was too weak for the league. I couldn't handle that: I get called that at school too much." I felt a hand placed on my back and tensed up, but when I felt a soft rubbing over the giant bruise, I relaxed. -It feels strange that these guys actually care about me, but it's cool at the same time. How many other people could say that they're friend with FOUR NHL players?!-

"Does that feel better, baby girl?" I nodded.

"Yes. It doesn't hurt as much as it did."

I let out sigh and placed my head in my hands. This week hadn't been easy-my foster parents were harder than ever and I had had a history and math test two days apart. My games were harder too-I had stayed out for three games, but when I came back the other teams were more stuck on me than ever. My friendship with my boys, however, had blossomed in the month I had known them. They were the sweetest, most stubborn people I had ever met. When I had those bruises on my back, it had taken all four of them and my coach to get me to sit out. The one I was closest to was Nik. Not only was he my favorite player, but he seemed to sense more than the other three when something was wrong. When the other guys would bombard me with questions, Nik told them to knock it off and said "She'll tell us later." My bedroom door opened, breaking me from my thoughts. "Whatcha doing there, brat", my foster mom asked.

"Homework", I replied. She grabbed my arm and pulled me to the floor before sitting on top of me.

"Liar, you're thinking about running away, aren't you?"

"No." She smacked me across the face and I felt a sting shoot up my face.

"You've been thinking about running away for a long time." I didn't answer so she smacked me again. "Haven't you, brat? Haven't you been thinking about running away?"

"No, mother. I haven't." She stood up and kicked me in the ribs twice. I fought back the scream but couldn't hold back the tears that filled my eyes. Breathing hurt like hell, but I didn't make a face, not wanting her to win. She raised her foot again, kicking me in stomach three or four times. I couldn't hold back the scream this time and she smirked in satisfaction.

"Hurts, doesn't it? That's what you get for being a brat. No wonder no one loves you." I didn't answer so she kicked me in the stomach again and left. My body started shaking and I started to cry into my hands. My ribs and stomach hurt like hell: I couldn't stay here anymore. Slowly and painfully, I got up, grabbed the paper Nik had handed me, and left.

It took me a while, but I finally found Nick’s house. I knocked on his door and waited. When he opened the door, he looked surprised. “Hi, Lizzy. What are you doing here”, he asked. I swallowed hard and I felt my eyes filling with tears.

“Can I please come inside”, I asked quietly. The surprised look on his face turned to concern and he let me inside. When he saw my face and what must’ve seemed like a tired look in my eyes, he pulled me into a hug. He hugged me way too hard; I let out a gasp and gently shoved him away. “Please don’t squeeze so hard. I hurt all over”, I said. He looked down at me, concern written all over his face.

"Is it from practice?!" I shook my head, tears filling my eyes.

"Nicky, there's something big I've kept from you. Please don't be mad at me." He knelt in front of me.

"I won't, I promise." I took a deep breath (which hurt like hell) and lifted up my shirt. The bruises on my ribs and stomach were painful and sickening to look at. I watched as Nicky went from confused, to shocked, to angry. "Who the hell did this to you?!" I swallowed hard and lifted my one hand to my face, too embarrassed and upset to look at him. "Lizzy." His voice was soft and the hand that pulled mine away from my face was gentle. "I'm not mad at you, sweetheart. I just want to know what happened." Tears spilled down my cheek as I told him about my parents abuse. I was full out crying when I finished and my ribs and stomach hurt like hell. I don't think I'd see Nik look more pissed than he did right now. He muttered several cruse words under his breath and pounded the floor a few times with his fists. I shivered and a few more tears spilled down my cheeks.

He stopped pounding the floor and looked up at me, his blue eyes softening. "Did I scare you?" I shook my head.

"No. I just hurt really badly and I don't want to go back home", I replied. I turned my head away, not wanting him to see me blush. He touched my cheek and turned my head towards him gently.

"You don't need to be embarrassed about asking me if you can stay. You're not going back to your parents house, not after what they did to you. I hate them right now." Tears spilled down my cheeks and onto his hand. "Hey, kiddo, what's wrong? Did I make you upset?"

"Oh, Nicky, no. You didn't make me upset. It's just.. it's been so long since I've felt love like this. It's making me cry." He smiled and stood up, his hand resting on my shoulder.

"And I'm gonna keep showing you that love." My eyes widened.

"Nicky, why? I've been beaten, starved, and haven't gotten a descent sleep in who knows how long. Why are you being so nice to me?" I couldn't help it-my foster parents had been telling me for years that I was no good and I had believed it.

He knelt it front of me again, his blues eyes full of concern and... love. "Lizzy, that's exactly why I'm being nice to you. You've been abused for a long time. Beaten, starved, barely getting sleep, told you were no good. You don't deserve that, sweetie. No one does. Your foster parents can't see the girl inside: the funny, smart, brave, beautiful girl that I know. This girl (he gestured at me) isn't one I like seeing. It makes me sick to think that your foster parents abused you like this. I promised on my father's grave that I was going to get back at whoever was hurting you and I'm going to keep that promise. You have something that they don't. (He took my hand and pressed it over my heart.) You have heart-courage. Even while they were abusing you, you managed to fight them by getting all A's, becoming a good hockey player and become friends with three NHL players! How many people can say that?"

"Not many." He smiled.

"Let's get some ice on those bruises and then I'll call Pav and Hank from upstairs, okay?!"

I followed him into the kitchen and leaned my elbows on the counter as he got the ice out of the freezer. This all seemed like a dream to me right now: I was in my favorite player's (who turned out to be my best friend) house, getting an ice pack for bruises just because he cared about me. How many people could say that?! I took the ice pack from Nik and placed it on my side, wincing at the pain it caused. "PAV! HANK! Get your butts down here! We have a guest." I bit my lip, my hands starting to shake. I took a deep breath and told myself to calm down. These were my friends-my brothers. Why was I so nervous about telling them? I shook my head, trying to clear it. There was nothing to worry about.

"Lizzy?! What are you doing here?!" I looked up up to see Hank and Pavel standing in front of me, eyebrows raised. My hands were sweaty, but I took the ice pack off my side and lifted my shirt. Gasps came from both of their mouths and their eyes widened with anger.

"Holy crap! Who did this to you", Hank asked, his voice a near growl. Pavel's fists were clenched and so were Hank's, although he was gritting his teeth too. I shivered and turned my head away, not wanting them to see the tears coming down my cheeks. "Lizzy, we need to know. They need to pay." Swallowing back the tears, I told them everything. There was nothing but silence when I was finished but I see how upset they were. "All this time and we never knew. It's sickening."

"It's my fault, guys. I wanted to tell you but..." I was cut off with a finger to my lips.

"Lizzy, it's not your fault. If they forced you not to tell, it scared you enough not to do it. Don't blame yourself."

There was silence for a few minutes before Pavel held out his hand. I came over and took it. “What makes you say that we wouldn’t have wanted to coach you? After hearing your story, I want to coach even than I did before. Your foster family doesn’t see what they have right in front of them: a sweet, beautiful girl who loves hockey”, he said. My eyes widened and I opened my mouth in shock. My voice came out shaky as I asked:

“You guys care about me that much?” Hank gestured me over and I stood in front of him. He pulled me into his lap and brushed the hair gently from my face.

“Besides my family and maybe my teammates, I’ve cared for no one as much as I’ve cared for you. I felt your sweetness and your charm when I first met you. We’ve worked with you for three, maybe four months, and we all agree that you’re like a sister. No one should go through what you’re going through. If I’d known this earlier, I would’ve taken you in right on the spot. It’s pretty special to think that, after all you’ve been through and are still going through, you’re strong and sweet. I want to keep coaching you and I hope you keep coming”, he said. For what seemed like the 20th time that night, my eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, Zetta, do you have any idea what those words mean to me? After two whole years of hell, I never thought I would hear someone say what you just said. I never told you guys this, but you guys mean so much to me. Everything that you’ve done and that you’re doing right now is a blessing. There were times that I was just ready to flee to another country or hide under my bed for days at a time…” My voice trailed off, but I knew that each of them knew what I meant.

I woke up in the middle of the night sweating and crying. I had just had the worst nightmare ever and I just wasn’t sure if I was ever going to get it out of my head. I heard my bedroom door opening and Nick coming inside. “Lizzy? What’s wrong”, he asked, sitting on the edge of my head. I swallowed and crawled toward him.

“A nightmare. The same one I’ve been having for six months now”, I said. He pulled me into his lap and I buried my head in his chest, crying. I felt his arms go around me and he rubbed my back. “I’m sorry, Nicky”, I said. He ran his hand through my hair.

“Sorry for what”, he asked.

“Showing up at your house in the middle of the night, for crying, for acting weak and tired”, I replied. Suddenly, we heard knocking on the front door. I felt fear run through me and felt my fears being confirmed when I heard, even though the front door was closed and we were upstairs, my foster parents’ voices. “It’s them”, I said. Nick looked at me.

“Your foster parents?” I nodded. Nick whispered some plan into my ear and I nodded, ready to do anything that would get me away from my foster parents. We went downstairs and I sat on the floor in front of the couch. Nick went and opened the door.

“She’s here! Where is she”, my foster mom asked in a demanding tone.

“I don’t know who you are talking about”, Nick replied, confusion in his voice the way he’d planned.

“My foster child”, my foster mom replied. Nick (I didn’t see it, but I heard later) rolled his eyes.

“Really, you think I would have a foster child here hiding? Unless the parents were mean and I knew the kid well enough that they’d trust me, I wouldn’t take foster child in”. I smiled to myself.

“Well, our foster child told us she was being coached by some Detroit players. You’re a Detroit player so you must know her. Tell me where she is”. Nick sighed. That was my signal.

I slowly pushed myself up and walked over to where Nick was. “Hi, sweetie. I’m happy to see you”, mom said. My eyes flashed.

“That’s what you say. You’re not really happy to see me”, I replied. She looked at me like I had grown two heads.

“Why would you say that? Of course I’m happy to see you”. I shook my head.

“No. No, you’re not. If you were happy to see me, would I have these bruises on my face? If you were happy to see me, would I come over to his house crying? No, I wouldn’t. You’ve given me nothing but crap for two years. You’ve hurt me, starved me and I haven’t had a real good night’s sleep in a long time. No, you don’t care about me. No foster parent or parents would treat their foster child like crap, especially when the kid’s parents have just died”, I spat. My foster dad glared at me and reached for my arm. I scrambled out of the way and hid behind Nick.

“Get back over here, you little brat”. I shuttered. Nick’s hand touched my arm and he gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Give me my child”, my foster mom said angrily. Nick’s hand on my arm tightened just a bit.

“No. I will not give her back to you. She’s been dealing with you for far too long. Maybe I only found out tonight what you were doing to her, but the bruises on her face, her crying and how late it was when she came here was enough to know something was wrong. I hated hearing stories about people being abused, but now that I know someone who’s being abused, it makes it a lot worse. The best thing you could do right now is get the hell out of my house”, Nick said. I wrapped my arms tight around his middle and he squeezed my hands. As I found out from Nick later, my foster parents looked quite surprised.

“You dare defy us of our daughter”, my foster dad asked. I bit my lip.

“When you’ve been hurting her for as long as you have, yes I can defy you. Now get out of here before I call the police and tell them you were trying to kidnap a child”, he said. The door slammed shut as my foster parents left. I started to cry and Nick wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

“Shh. You’re okay”, he said, pulling me into a hug. I swallowed hard and shook as the sobs racked my body. I could feel Nick gently gripping my upper arms to steady me. “Do you just want to go to bed”, he asked.

“Yes! Don’t leave, please don’t leave”, I replied. He picked me up and carried me back up to the bedroom.

“Who says I’m leaving? I won’t leave, I’ll stay with you”, he told me softly. He tucked me under the covers and climbed in next to me.

“…and that’s my story, Officer”, I finished a few days later. Nicky and I had decided this morning to go to the police and talk to them. Ever since Nicky had sent them away from his house, they had been threatening me and trying to blackmail me to come back to them. I wasn’t going back, but I was scared for both Nicky and I that they’d try to do something worse.

“Why haven’t you call us before to tell us this”, the Chief asked. I chewed my lip nervously.

“I’ve tried, but they’ve caught me every time. Whenever they’ve gone out, they’ve threatened to beat me up if they found out that I called the police”, I explained. Nicky squeezed my hand tightly and I send a small smile his way.

“Well, thank you for coming to us. The next thing we’re going to do is talk to them”. My eyes widened.

“I’m screwed now”, I muttered. Both of them looked at me.

“Screwed? Why would you be screwed”, Nicky asked.

“Because they’re going to deny everything that I’ve said. They always do. If they deny it, what’s gonna happen to me?” The chief bit his lip.

“Don’t worry about that. Just worry about getting better, okay?” I nodded and then Nicky and I said our goodbyes. “Expect a phone call in the next week or so”, the chief said to Nicky.