Don't Let Go: Day 5

Word Count: 33,013

Summary of Events:

Uncle Zikki's funeral was held, during which Tor cried extensively — and, thus, was grateful that Uncle Zikki had wanted his pallbearers to wear their racing suits, complete with helmets, as it allowed him to keep the fact that he was crying so much hidden. Nevertheless, in a matter of days he was in Austria, where, after going out for lunch, he and his girlfriend, Madlenka, they then went on a hike, on which she asked him if he wasn't afraid to die, to which he replied that he wasn't, for racing was his life, and dying doing it wouldn't be a big deal; this, however, made Madlenka react with hurt and walk away from him…

Excerpt of the Day:

Taking long, brisk strides to catch up to her, Tor caught a gentle hold of her hand.

“I love you, Lenka,” he said as she stopped and turned to look at him.

She didn’t look like she believed him. He took up both of her hands.

“I really love you, Lenka” Tor said, even leaning in and kissing her right cheek softly. “But racing is what gets me out of bed every morning. You, on the other hand, would do a far better job of keeping me in bed.”

A small smile showed Madlenka understood the jovial intent of his closing sentence, even though he wasn’t able to make it sound as jovial as he’d meant.

“Even still,” Madlenka said, her smile fading. “I feel like you’re rushing back to being normal, or trying to rush back, and not taking the time to grieve, the time that you need to grieve. Don’t try and force yourself to be okay if you’re not just to pursue winning the championship. I know you’re a competitor and that you want to win not just the race, but the greater prize, but…”

“If you want me to be okay, then I need to race Lenka,” Tor said. “I can’t be okay without racing.”

Madlenka didn’t look terribly convinced, but she merely sighed before looking toward the trail ahead of them. Tor released one hand and they fell into silent step together onward.

As much as losing Uncle Zikki was one of the worst things Tor had ever had happen in his life — and far worse than the worst thing he’d ever wanted to have happen in his life — it was not so bad that it would make him turn away from racing in any way; not merely because Uncle Zikki wouldn’t have wanted him to stop or to be afraid, as Uncle Zikki had been one of the number who’d believed that, of the two of them, Tor was actually the better, more talented driver, and had believed that for that reason, chiefest of all, Tor would enjoy a more successful motorsport career than he had, but because he didn’t know what he would possibly do with his life if he didn’t race.

He could do without his cellphone, his video games, his family, food, anything, but he couldn’t be without racing, and not even the fact that it had taken from him one of the most dearest and beloved people in his life was going to stop him from continuing to do it.

It wouldn’t necessarily be easy, especially as he got to points in his motorsport career where he was more visibly following in Uncle Zikki’s footsteps than he was at present, but Tor didn’t know how he could possibly be alive without going racing, it just didn’t compute.

Maybe he was rushing back, but Tor didn’t think it was for the reason everyone thought he was. He wasn’t rushing back out of fear of losing the championship; he was rushing back because he didn’t know how to possibly live — especially in the face of the loss he’d suffered — without it.