Atlas Grove, once a dancer with dreams of dancing under the stars, now lives petrified in the shadows of abuse. To escape her living nightmare she must keep her head down and work hard, being her senior year this is her last chance to get out. Altho...
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They both look at each other then back at me, unreadable expressions. Blaze squeezes my hand supportively and his mom nods at me with an understanding smile, pity hiding in the tiny creases of her tired skin.
This is it.
The first time I've ever properly spoken about what happened to my momma and how he ripped my family apart...how he ripped me apart.
When I was living in care homes they tried to make me talk about everything, that night especially. They wanted me to tell the police what happened, as obvious as it was, but I made myself so secluded trying to block it out of my mind it ate me alive. It still does. Maybe if I talk to them the nightmares will stop, the pain will lessen unshackling me from the grief and guilt.
"I-uh-I was born in Illinois. Obviously. I am the oldest of two girls... was the oldest." My heart clenches, I really don't know how to approach this. I feel like it's going to just come out in one big waffled mess. my palms sweat more than humanly possible and my heartbeat is loud, beating like a drum. "It was me and my sister, Lucy, she was seven years younger than me but... that didn't matter. She had blue eyes that would twinkle in the sun and she'd always wear her hair in braids, brunette braids with ribbon... she had his hair, not mine and my mommas." I breathe recalling her dancing around our bedroom in one of my tutus, braids flying around her freckled face.
"My momma was originally a dancer. She flew around the world as part of several royal companies as a Prima Ballerina Assoluta after she graduated from Julliard. That title is only awarded to the most notable female dances, it's an extremely rare honour and my mom was amongst the fourteen women who have been graced with the title. If you dance. You know who she was, she was ballet royalty." I let out a strained chuckle. The rare title, taken to the ground. "In fact, the only thing I thank my birth dad for is that he made me take my mom's last name, it's the one thing I can still hold onto with pride. The girls I've danced with used to fawn over my last name, always asking for time with my momma." I don't realise the tears have already started until Blaze wipes them from my face with the calloused pads of his thumbs, I smile nervously and sniffle, "Can I uh... borrow your phone?" I ask nodding towards his phone laying idly on the kitchen island next to a plate of cold toast. He slides it across after he unlocks it and I type in my momma's name to google with shaky fingers.
Evie Grove
Pictures of her flood the screen. Some with dramatic stage makeup and others her natural tone, pointe shoes secured around her feet, mid-flight in the air. Poise. Elegance. Talent. Beauty. She dazzled on the stage in her many costumes. My cheeks are slick like the banks of a river as I turn to show them. They take the phone and scroll down, their eyes glassing over in admiration.
"She was incredible. She captivated everyone and was such an amazing woman to be around, you'd never find anyone with a bad word against her. she was the kind everyone got along with or went to for help, she lit up a room when she walked in... then she met my dad." The air turns cold and they look up from the phone, just the very mention turns the taste in my mouth sour.
