Accolade

chapitre treize

I was feeling better. 

Even after my episode of extreme drowsiness yesterday, I slept through the night and woke up as the sun was rising. Someone had carried me to my own bed last night, and they left a glass of water on the nightstand in case I needed it. 

For a moment, my body seemed to recognize my old routine and it felt unbelievingly comforting. It was normal to me, despite how everything had been so unknown lately. I made breakfast, and coffee, and then I took my painkillers. 

It was barely even seven in the morning, and I felt even better after I ate. 

I couldn't really explain it, the feeling was like an overwhelming urge to be productive. Similar to what one would experience at three in the morning when they finally decide to get their life together. I wanted to go out for a run like I always did, but I remembered the paparazzi. I didn't dare go out alone. 

So, I stood at the floor-length windows in my living room and gazed down upon the waking city. I imagined what it would feel like, jogging through the cool air, and feeling myself come alive for the day. I sipped some of my tea. Poetry seemed to become motion, and then I found myself setting my tea on the coffee table. 

I moved into the open space of my living room, and I lifted my right hand above my head. My left reached for the floor. My position was assumed, and it felt so good. I took a deep breath and then I closed my eyes. 

My body always melted into the dance of my soul.

I didn't think as I moved. I wasn't letting myself think about the familiar pain that might flare at any moment. I just danced. Something I had yearned to do since the day I fell but the pain had stopped me. From one position to the next, I kept going quicker and quicker as nothing held me back from hitting the positions. My leg extended, my toes pivoted, my arms raised.

I was dancing again.

It felt beautiful because it was the only thing I knew. 

There was no concept of time as I danced in my living room while my brothers slept. They had no idea what was aspiring, and I couldn't wait to tell them. This changed everything. 

Eventually, I was breathless as I collapsed onto my couch. There was no pain. My legs didn't hurt. I had hit my pirouette without wobbling or tipping off my axis. I could hold the third and fifth positions. I moved with the fluid grace that I grew addicted to, and it felt amazing.

It was perfect. 

Hope renewed and rushed through me. 

I was getting better. 

Suddenly, I could see myself dancing on that stage for Broadway. I could imagine the spotlight on myself, the audience holding their breath as they watched me. I could feel the heat of my skin as I pushed myself to my limits and brought every fiber of my soul into the performance. I could hear the fluttering of my heart as I finally achieved my dreams. 

It was all happening. 

"Aida? Are you okay?" 

I turned my head. "Good morning!"  

"Morning," Auden murmured, and then he did a double take. His eyebrow rose in question. "What's got you smiling this early?" 

I shrugged, the said smile never leaving my lips. "I don't know, I just feel better." 

"Really?" His voice was hopeful, "That's good, Aida. I'm glad. Did you take your painkillers?" 

I nodded, "Yes, but I don't think they're working."