My Parent's Wishes?

My Parent's Wishes?-Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

*Beep! Beep! Beep!

I groaned as I turned off my alarm. Trying to wake up, I threw open my plain, white curtains and stod there in the warmth of the sun. Just for a moment, because tardiness is not my mom's favorite thing. I quickly dressed in tight yoga pants and a plain tank top, my usual weekend wear. quickly, i scraped my hair back in a bun and jogged down the stairs. Something made me pause outside the kitchen door. I was glad I did, for my Mom was on the phone with someone and clearly didn't want to be heard.

"Of course she will!" she said, in a hushed voice, "it's her life, how could she choose anything else!" There was a pause, I assume from someone talking back to her. "There are only two other options, and as soon as it shows I will talk to her. I know what she is going to choose! " MO's voice was getting angrier and angrier, "This is completely ridiculous! She is not the girl you are speaking of, and I know it! There is no fact in what you are saying, so please drop it! Do NOT call here again!" With that she slammed the phone down. I could hear here seething with anger in the kitchen, so I waited a few minutes before entering the room.

"Morning!," I chirped, in what I hoped was a freindly voice. She stormed out of the room.

Not particularly concerned, I poured some cereal and began munching on my breakfast. I pretty much know she had been talking about me, but whatever she had been arguing abouf, i fugure my Mom will figure it out. I don't know what is supposed to 'show', but I could dwell on that later.Untill then, I guessed I should go about my daily routine, to prevent Mom from getting even more angry.

I made my way from rom to room, with my iPod in and dancing with the broom. Shaking my hips to the beat, I swept the kitchen. I was still dancing and singing and washing dishes an hour later, when Mom came back downstairs. She gave me a half-hearted smile and ate. I decided I should let her talk to me, so I continued my chores for the day.

I danced my way through the ground floor, then moved down to the basement. I swept, dusted, and disinfected every surface down there, untill it shined. Everything was sparkling as I headed upstairs. my Mom was nowhere to be found, but that didn't bother me. I went upstairs now, and cleaned my room and my bathroom. Then I collapsed on my bed and slept for about an hour.

I woke with a start when a loud song came on my iPod. Too awake to go back to sleep, I went down to the basement where i had set up (with Mom's help) a small studio. It was full of mirrors, with a bar like a stripe across one wall. I looked in the mirror and saw a blonde haired, blue eyed 'petite' girl. I looked pretty good. Smiling to myself, I began warming up with plies and tendus and the bar.

Feeling warm, I cranked up the music and danced one of my old jazz routines from a couple years ago. Completely lost in what I was doing, I didn't notice her untill I stopped. She clapped, as always. As always, I smiled.

"Point your toes more," said Mom, then she sat on the couch at the end of teh room and flipped through a magazine.

Completely used to her prescence, I continued. I went through jazz, hip-hop, contemporary and classical ballet routines that I had done over the years. Every once and a while Mom would raise her eyebrows or purse her lips, and I would know that I screwed up. I began to just freestyle.

Starting at the corner, I took two steps and went into a jump, with my legs doing the splits in the air. i soared through the air, and landed perfectly with hardly any sound. I knew it had been perfect. I turned to my Mom, a gloating smile on my face. I was not at all prepared for the look on her face.

What I saw there was a mixture of shock, joy, and a shadow of fear. Confused, I lookedaround to see what had happenned. It was then I realized I was not standing where I should have been, but in the opposite corner of the room that I had started my jump at. My head whipped around to Mom, hoping she coud explain. "Wha-", she help up a finger to stop me.

She slowly rose from the couch where she had been perched, and walked over to me, as graceful as if she was performing. She stopped in front of me and looked into my wide, frightened eyes. Then she bagan to explain. Everything.