Through The Eyes Of A Dancer

M A R I E

"No.."

My could feel my heart racing as the show started.

My heart always raced whenever we had had a show at Concept. But it wasn't because I was scared.

"No.."

My heart raced out of pure excitement. I am a good dancer, I know that. The people at Concept knew. The audience knew.

"No..don't go on that stage."

As the other ballerinas danced on stage, I was eagerly watched. From the distance I could see my cousin, Rose dance with the others while I waited for my cue to come in and perform my solo.

The ballerinas danced and made space for me in the middle and then I knew it was my time.

I balanced my body, straightened my posture and danced gracefully on stage. I moved my whole body with elegance but with a humble smile.

All those months of practising, all those long days I spent practising in my studio paid off. I focused not on anybody but on myself.

"Leave that stage."

As I did my final step and did a split, I heard a strange sound. I looked up to where the sound came from and noticed the chandelier was coming down on me, within a second I could feel pain everywhere.

"No!" I screamed, panting as I jerked off from my bed.

Tiny droplets were already formed on my forehead and neck.

My hands reached for my bedside table to grab a cup of water but my hands only pushed it forward causing the glass to topple over and break.

That one incident took everything away from me.

**



After having that nightmare, I just couldn't fall asleep again. So I just stayed in bed for awhile.

Staying in bed seemed like a good idea until I just felt the urge to move around. My hands moved around my bed, searching for my cane. I grabbed it, straightened it and made it pave my way to my closet.

I moved slowly until I tripped on something, causing me to fall down on the cold hard floor. I let out a shriek.

In about fifty seconds, I could hear footsteps enter my room and walk towards me. I stayed silent awaiting Steve.

Steve is my assistant. He was friends with my parents and has always been there for me. He would always accompany me to events by holding my arms so there would never be a reason to use my cane.

"Let's help you up, Miss Curtis." Steve's voice filled the air as Steve helped me balance on my feet.

I used my cane to find out what it was that made me trip. But it's length and width, I could tell it was a stool.

My suspicions were confirmed as I went down to use my hands to feel it.

Your hands become your best friend when the world is painted pitch black all the time. Living with this, I learned how to sharpen my senses. Now I do most things by myself without calling for help.

After awhile I could feel people line up in a parallel line in front of me.

"Who left this stool here!" I demanded to know.

"Miss Curtis, the stool must have been left there by mistake." Steve defended the incompetent workers.

"The stool was placed right in the middle of the door, the perfect spot for me to topple over." I explained, hitting my cane on the floor but everyone stayed quiet.

"So nobody's gonna talk?" I calmly asked but still no response.

"Alright then. If in five seconds nobody admits to their crime, you are all going to be fired."

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

"Four."

"F-"

"It was me!" One of the maids finally confessed.

"I cleaned yesterday and I forget it there." She explained.

I scoffed, "I knew it was you. It had a cheap lavender smell hovering around it."

"I'm sorry ma-"

"That enough. I can't have incompetent people working here. Only the lavender girl is fired, the rest of you get back to work." I ordered and they all left.

"Miss Curtis, was that really necessary?" Steve pitched in.

"Get out Steve. I don't need you anymore." I hissed.

After some time passed, my Butler joined me in my room.

"Why do you hire such useless employees?" I questioned her.

"The employees are not the problem."  She muttered.

"Why don't you just move in already? You can take a room wherever you want."

"No. I won't."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't like you! I can only tolerate you for so long and besides I like my bed."

I let out a sigh, "Read out my mail for today." I ordered Irene, my Butler.

"Do you really need to be reading them everyday?" Steve interrupted.

"Steve know your place! Don't question me again."I yelled.

"Sorry miss.' he apologized.

"One from the company. One from your aunt. One from..." She paused.

I Know that silence.

"One from housing." Steve answered.

Liars!

"Give it to me." I ordered.

"You don't need to open i-"

"Hand it over! Now!" I demanded.

Irene handed them over to me. I felt every part of the file and felt a sticker pasted on the body of the file.

Now I understand why they hiding it.

"This is the sticker used for the ballet company's anniversary." I voiced out.

"You don't have to attend it if you don't want to."

"I will attend it. But couldn't she just put it after my parents death anniversary? Why did it have to be the same day?"

After putting on my jogging outfit, I used my cane to walk outside. As I approached the door I could hear Steve's voice.

"What do you mean by the transplant can't happen?!" I heard him argue over the phone.

I heard enough, I followed his voice and ended up next to him. I reached for the phone and took it from him.

"What now? What's the problem now?!" I screamed into the phone.

"Miss Curtis, I don't-"

"What? Did you discover another infection this time? Well doctor, know one thing, I don't need you anymore! Get my name off the waiting list!" I screamed into the phone again before handing back to Steve.

"Snow!" I called out and my dog ran towards me. I grabbed her leash and ran off.

"Miss Curtis! Wait for me! I'll just quickly change from the bathrobe!" Steve called out but I didn't stop.

This always happens! Whenever I think I'm actually going to be get a cornea transplant something always goes wrong.

First the person donating the cornea changed his mind suddenly. The second time, it wasn't compartable. Then because the cornea got infected.

Why do I keep getting my hopes up only to be disappointed?

"Snow, don't go too fast." I ordered her and she slowed down.

I brought out my cane again and looked for the bench that has always been placed in the park.

"Why does she even bother when she can't see?" I heard someone whisper.

"She's quite pitiable. If I lost my parents and my eyesight the same week, I'd be depressed for the rest of my life?" Another said.

"Hey! If you are going to whisper then do it properly so I won't be able to hear you." I said into the direction I heard sounds coming from.

"She made up for it by having a terrible temper." One commented before I heard laughs.

I balanced on the bench, playing with my stick.

After my accident, I tried to continue dancing but I kept stumbling. In a fit of anger, I threw out everything in regards to ballet and ordered everyone to never mention the word again.

I remember jumping from the bridge when I decided to give up on life. They say a ballerina dies twice. The first is when she gives up ballet and the second one when she stops breathing.

I have no intention of breathing, it's more like a curse to me.

It's been seven years since the accident but the wounds are still very fresh.

**

Hey!

What do you think about the first chapter?

Sorry if it's scattered, I'll edit it later.

Thank you.

**