The Rare Ones

*17*

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~~~~~~~
"Dance for me,
dance for me,
dance for me, oh, oh.
I've never seen anybody do
the things you do before."
~~~~~~~
-Tones & I (Dance Monkey)

Beryl

I crashed on my bed, drenched in sweat after a gruelling, seemingly timeless workout session with my mum.

Dragging myself to the bathroom, I took a much needed shower and then crashed back down again.

"I swear, if I don't become like you,"I groaned at the poster of world renowned dancer, Misty Copeland,I had fixed on my sky-blue wall.

I let my eyes roam round my huge, suite-like room.

There were shelves overflowing with trophies, medals and plaques I'd won over the years.

I also had posters and paintings of famous dancers like Anna Pavlova, Misty Copeland, Lalisa Manoban and Kaffy littered on the walls.

In one corner was the door to my walk-in closet for regular clothes and in another was the door to my second walk-in closet for just dance clothes.

Then, there was my space near the huge windows, where I stretches first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

My eyes suddenly diverted to my desk situated at the other end of my gigantic room, where my laptop sat, open.

I pulled myself over there and sat down.

When I clicked my laptop back on, the first thing that popped up excited me, yet dampened my mood.

Julliard School of the Arts
Application Form

I had already filled most of the form digitally, and I had a printed copy on my desk which had countless scribbled and cancelled parts in pencil, from when I was indecisive about what to write.

Thing is, I can't screw this up.

Julliard is my dream school; I can finally prove that I'm serious about my dancing dream.

It's not like I'm good at anything else- my results and report cards speak for themselves- so why not be dedicated in what I can do?

My room door opened and in walked my mother, decked out in a crop top and bum shorts, her usual style.

Sometimes I stop and wonder if she really is me and my brother's mother.

Because she most certainly doesn't look, talk or act like her last born child is a final year student in secondary school.

"Hi, Mummy-"

"Mummy what?"

I grinned. "Hi, Mummy Bee."

She smiled and plopped down yoga-style into the large white swing seat I had hanging from the wall.

Since when I was little, my mum always called me 'Honey Bee', because I took such a liking to the dance movie Honey.