Short stories

The red ballerina

"I'm nervous," I tell Miss Stacy.
"Me too," she replies. We are preparing to go on stage. I shudder as I remember the last time I preformed ballet for the school. Mr. Crane told us to show off our talents for that weeks grade. We would have all week during class to prepare, and on Friday, present. I was already made fun of for being the only kid in school to like ballet. Despite that, I thought if I showed them what it was really like, they would understand. I had decided to do an origional peice based on "The Red Shoes". Miss Stacy told me I would make a great Victoria and to go for it. I was practicing on Monday when a kid laughed at me and threw a paper ball at me. Then it was raining paper balls. So for the next few days I sat in the bleachers with a forged note saying I twisted my ankle.
Now, the same thing is probably doomed to repeat itself. Except today, I have Miss Stacy with me. The red ballerina. Every ballerina I have known has always worn the traditional pink or white. When I found out that Miss Stacy was a former ballet student like me, she showed me her costume. It was all red. Including the pointe shoes.

Tonight is the school's annual talent show. Miss Stacy and I are performing an origional peice I choreographed to "Renegade" by Kevin Olusola. It is sort of a more modern ballet/contemporary dance. Looking at her now, I can see the confidence glowing in her face and the worry in her eyes. It's Amazing how a ballerina will be one of the best actors you can meet but if you know how to read their eyes, they can never lie to you. She looked stunning in her red outfit. As a present for tonight, she bought me a matching one. I am proud of this dance more than anything else in the world. We are the last performers. I know the only reason the audience is still here is to find out who won, otherwise they could care less. I'm just glad something is keeping them here. As the announcer gives us an intel I hear lots of boos through out the crowd. The announcer quiets them down and we enter on stage. As the music begins, my heart beats faster than the speed of light. But the further into the dance I get, the more I forget the crowd. I just feel the music and my movements. In fact, I get so lost in my own little world, I almost don't hear the roaring applause of the standing ovation Miss Stacy and I are receiving. What wakes me is the announcer yelling over the crowd that we are the winners by a landslide. I am grateful for all of the praise but,
I could not have done it without the help of he red balletrina.