Ballerina

Chapter Twelve

A/N: Hi everyone, sorry for the cliffhanger in Chapter Eleven. This update is short but crucial and heavy. Please read the warnings carefully and thoroughly before continuing.

Warnings for this chapter:  angst, panic attack, poor mental health, blood, wounds, reminiscences of a past trauma, crude depiction of a car accident, hit-and-run, physical and psychological pain.
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Pain
Immense pain
Harsh, deep pain was what startled Iris awake.

The sound of screeching tires and a loud crash echoed in her ears, making it almost impossible for her to hear the flow of her tangled thoughts.

She wasn't sure if it was real or just a cruel trick of her imagination.

She found herself still on the cold hard floor where she had crumbled as soon as she had gotten home from Jake’s house. After seeing something that completely changed the way in which she saw him.

That discovery weighed on her shoulders like a ton of ice-cold bricks.

She was drenched in sweat, her body sore for spending a lot of time on the hard tiled floor.

Tears were still streaming silently down her face and the room was completely dark.

She didn't know what time it was but it looked like she had laid there for a long while.

Her breathing was fast and ragged.

She tried to close her eyes and calm down but suddenly darkness all around her was devoured by a blinding ray of light.

She didn't know if she was dreaming, hallucinating or if that was really happening.

She opened and closed her eyes a few times but the light was still there, reflecting hauntingly on every surface of the room.

She closed her eyes again but, as soon as she reopened them, she gasped.

Something was wrong.

The scene had morphed and suddenly she wasn't in her kitchen anymore.

Iris found herself at the side of a road she didn't recognise.

The night was cold and eerily quiet. The air around her was freezing, in complete contrast with the summer approaching.

But her skin wasn't bothered by it, it just tickled her and confused her.

It shouldn't be this cold in June, she thought.

But suddenly, she realized something.

It wasn't June.

Little perfect snowflakes started falling all around her.

The night was so completely silent that she could even hear the fluttering sound of them falling all around.

After a while, she spotted a familiar shadow approaching on the other side of the road.

And she understood.

It was incredibly strange but she understood, nonetheless.

She recognised herself, buried deep in her coat making her way home from ballet practice on that dreaded Saturday night of many months ago.

When she realized what she was about to witness, she grew restless.

She tried to run towards her projection, but her feet were glued on the spot.

She tried to scream, but no sound left her bitten lips.

She was truly and utterly helpless.

The only thing she could do was watch.