Fragments by Caroline Green

clutched at thin air. Then I felt the hand on my shoulder again. It was starting to feel like that hand was laughing at me.
    Come on , I told myself. Feel it . . . feel her presence. Smell her . .  .
    I tried to pretend there was no deafening music blasting my eardrums. There was just me, and her. The world shrunk around me and that’s when I sensed the faintest vibration in the floor beneath my feet. A waft of soap, so slight it was barely there, had me twisting and pushing against the warm, dense body behind me, knocking her to the mat. I couldn’t see her but quickly had her on her back, straddling her with my knees. I laughed in delight, relieved I was finally getting it.
    On the next two goes, I sensed her each time.
    Reaching ten, I snatched the scarf away from my face, blinking in the harsh lights of the gym. Zoe frowned at me and rubbed the back of her head in an exaggerated way. I mouthed, ‘Sorry,’ and she managed a thin smile. Her turn now.
    I blindfolded her and placed the scarf gently on her shoulder.
    Looking around the room I noticed everyone was wearing trainers. Almost without thinking, I whipped off my trainers and socks, flexing my toes. It seemed so obvious, I couldn’t understand why no one else had thought of it. Moving on the balls of my feet, it was easy to get the scarf two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine times. I was starting to enjoy myself so maybe I got cocky on the tenth attempt. Before I knew what was happening, the world had tipped sideways and my back slammed against the mat. All the air jolted out of me and for a second I couldn’t get my breath. I looked up into Zoe’s face. She mouthed, ‘You OK?’ and I nodded as she slid off me.
    I was more embarrassed than hurt. Breathing heavily, I wiped the sweat prickling my face with the scarf and sat down on the mat. Almost everyone else had finished, apart from Christian and his partner. Christian turned out to be really good at this too.
    We had a knockout contest then and soon it was just Christian and me left.
    We exchanged grins and high-fived. This was actually fun!
    Lewis regarded us both coolly and then said, ‘Kyla and Christian, you’ve really nailed this task. Well done. Seems you’ve shown everyone else here up. Come to the front, please.’
    I couldn’t help feeling chuffed with myself. I wondered why he wanted us to come up to the front. For a mad moment I wondered if I’d get a prize.
    Christian was flushed and looked like he was holding back a grin too, but he avoided my eye. He doesn’t give much away, Christian.
    ‘Right,’ said Lewis. ‘Time for a play-off. We’re going to do it a little differently this time. You’ll be seated. You don’t have to disarm your opponent, just catch them in any way you see fit.’
    This time he tied the scarf around my eyes himself and guided me so I was sitting on the mat with my feet poking out in front of me. I felt a bit stupid and exposed. He must have turned on some kind of noise-cancelling thing this time because it went so quiet, the silence seemed to press in on my eardrums. I couldn’t hear the other people in the room. All I could make out was my own heartbeat.
    I tried to tune in to the vibrations in the room. It was weird, though, because I couldn’t pick out anything at all. I started to get a cramp in my leg and moved it, ever so slightly. And at that exact moment, I felt a burning agony in my wrist, making me cry out.
    I screamed and moved my arm. And that’s when I realised something was attached to my wrist. My other hand closed around something warm, muscular, alive . . .
    . . . and scaly.
    Scaly?
    Wrenching off the blindfold, I cried out again, looking down at the thick, green snake clamped around my wrist by its jaws. I fell onto my knees and smashed it repeatedly against the ground, over and over. It didn’t loosen its grip and then suddenly it went limp and stopped thrashing.
    Sobbing, shaking, I wrenched it off my wrist, shuddering