One Shots

Shatter Me

I pirouette in the dark. No audience. No musicians. No co-performers. My feet and body ache. I'm bone weary to the point where I may collapse soon. But I keep dancing. I must. Regardless of the sweat dripping from my brow. Regardless of how  dizzy from the endless spinning I may be. If I do not, I face punishment. I'm frozen by the fear in me. Stuck in this glass globe. No audience, but all eyes on me. It used to be fun. I'd leap and twirl. Dance around on stage with the beautiful lights shining on myself and the other dancers. But then I signed my life away to someone who promised me more. Now I'm no longer a happy person on stage. I'm an overused automaton in a ballerina costume. Tired mechanical heart beating for nothing. I'm broken from my trance when my back and head hit the floor with a harsh thud. Unfortunately, all I did was slip on my sweat. Shame I didn't pass out. I could have had a chance to rest if I had. I lie there, wishing I could break the glass of this globe. But if I break the glass, I'll have to fly. There's no one to catch me if I take a dive. And that's pretty much bound to happen. I can't get out of the contract either. I would have by now. So I'm stuck.

"No, you're not." A voice whispers in the dark.

I don't have the strength to move, or I would sit up to look around. But instead I just roll my head to one side, then the other in a pathetic attempt to look around.

"I'll reveal myself in due time. For now, just focus on relaxing and resting. And keep your eyes closed. That part is for my sake as well as yours."

Because I don't have the stamina for arguing, I just obey. I see no harm in it anyway. Even if he kills me, I will only gain peace out of that. I don't sleep, however. I can't. My paranoid imagination won't let me. But I rest all the same. I feel myself being lifted from the floor. Next thing I know, I'm feeling myself sway and kind of bounce. Not like the fast bounce of a horse or a bumpy road. It was much smoother. A slight bounce. Mostly swaying. My guess is that I'm being carried. To where, I neither know nor care. I can only hope that if I die it will be quick. That's my only wish. But I don't die. Not yet, at least. Instead I'm placed on something soft. Fluffy soft. More like foamy. Memory foam. It's covered in something rough. Wool? Burlap? It doesn't matter. It's better than the floor.

"There. That should feel better."

It's the voice again. I like that voice. So far the owner has been kind. The only kind thing I've experienced since signing that damn contract. I immediately snuggle into whatever I'm on. "Thank you..." I mumble, barely loud enough to be heard by someone with average hearing. I feel my head being stroked by a lukewarm hand with the gentlest of carresses. "Shhh. Rest well." It was then that I fell asleep, finally feeling safe enough to. Thanks to this stranger.

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The above story was inspired by the song Shatter Me by Lindsey Stirling. The other character was inspired by the song Get Out Alive. I most likely won't explain anything about the other character. Unless I change my mind, I'll reveal things on my own later. Tell me. Should I continue any of my stories?