Balance

Chapter 19 ~ Ribbon

I can do this.

I want to do this.

I promised momma I would do this.

If I can teach and cheer I can bloody dance.

I pull my old pointe shoes out of my dance bag that's fraying at the straps and bend them in my hands, feeling the soft material under my fingertips. I've missed the feeling but I know they're going to hurt when I put them back on, I need to rebuild that strength in my bones... and my head.

I wrap the pink ribbon around my fingers, these were the last pair of shoes my momma bought me. I tried to carry on dancing after I moved I managed to keep going for a little while but eventually, the guilt got too heavy and it pained me to dance, every time I tried I'd ended up in a hysterical ball having a panic attack. It was much harder to dance in care too, the other kids would laugh at me for wanting to dance but being a blubbering mess.

I move over to the area of floor in front of the mirrors and slide the shoes onto my feet, they still fit perfectly... they'd need to be changed soon but I guess I have to thank my body for not growing once I hit thirteen, it's doing wonders for my feet now... which is more than can be said about my height...

I never thought I'd be able to do this again. Feel the shoes on my feet, even think about dancing. I don't know what changed, maybe I'm fed up with living in the past and constantly being beaten by the nightmares. I need to start living for me. I've started by making friends... that was a good start but now I need to dance.

I step up and take hold of the barre, I start by going through the positions and stretching out making sure I'm warmed up. I know what I want to do.

I've been thinking about it for weeks.

I want to do a whole contemporary- lyrical piece.

I love ballet but I love incorporating it into contemporary even more, momma used to say how beautiful it was when I created a piece all by myself and for the past few weeks I've been piecing choreography together in my head. Catching my legs moving by themselves when I listen to the music.

I plug my phone into the speaker system and pull up the song I've been mapping for a while. Lovely by Billie Eilish fills the small studio. I take a long breath and take a final look in the mirrors.

I can do this. I have to do this for my momma.

'Thought I found a way, though I found a way out'

I push up onto my shoes, immediately feeling the pressure as my whole body weight rests on my toes. My muscles tighten in my legs as they fan out and support my balance. I hit the floor with such strength, I can't hold back anymore. My body thrashes about rhythmically, my arms enclosing around my face, being careful not to tangle with my hair.

'Oh I hope someday I'll make it out of here'

I go through the notions of producing a simple but elegant jetè, the slow but centred movements concealing emotion that overspills onto my face. A series of arabesques have the fire pumping through my veins.