Within You

Chapter Two.

As I nearly trip and fly through the air, thanks to my own two feet, I stop my sprinting as my head starts to sway making my eye sight shake. I breath in heavy breaths as I stumble towards the dance studio.

God, I need to get into shape. Maybe stop eating the Digestives. For a day, at least.

I climb up the steps to the door, probably looking like a pale bagel, as I open the door seeing the many pink ballerinas twisting and twirling in lines of three, classical ballet music shooting down my ear drums.

I search the faces of the twirling girls, noticing a few faces that I recognise, sadly not seeing the one that I ran a whole mile for. Instead I catch the gaze of an old man, Mr Phillips.

He goes to the side of the room walking away from a brown haired girl, who's name I know all to well, Elena Thara. She sits cross legged in her pink ballerina uniform with tear stains down her cheeks, obviously meaning she's been crying.

Or rather fake crying.

Trying not to disturb the other dancers, Mr Phillips heads towards me with a small smile that's has aged through the years of him working here.

"Ah, Ali. It's lovely to see you, again." His normal sweet tone hardens as I remember Alani being a troublemaker last night, which involved myself being shouted at by this very same man that I'm talking to at this very moment. For Alani's behavior towards some of the batty girls, like the one that's currently crying, in the her dance lessons was 'unacceptable'.

"A pleasure as always, Mr Phillips. Where is she?" I ask, searching the dance studio once again, narrowing my gaze on all faces that move across the dance floor.

I notice my neighbour, Grace, in the crowd with her look-a-like son, Mike, waving at me with a dazzling white smile. I smile awkwardly back at her and return the wave, making Mr Phillips turn to see who I'm interacting with.

"She isn't here, is she?" I say in a bored tone already knowing my answer.

"About that Ali, she waited outside on the steps for you but left straight after I turned my back on her to go inside." He says in a not so guilty voice as I roll my eyes. With a grim smile on my face I move towards the door, getting almost knocked over by a tall bold man in a black suit and tie.

I call him a name people should not use around children, knowing that he heard me as I stomp down the steps loudly, not bothering to talk to the foolish man who lost a eleven year old child.

I look out at the empty roads and pathways around me, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"You better be home, Alani, or so help me..."

**********

I rush into our five level apartment building, quickly stomping my shoes on the indoor mat, as I come across our level one neighbour Mr Jenkins.

The newly single, grumpy, middle aged man, that's smoking a cigarette outside his door frowns at my appearance with his old Newfoundland dog sitting by his feet, leaking a white slime from its mouth.

I nod at the man in a friendly manner, getting a nod in return, as I run up the stairs, to the second level or rather my level, and straight up to my red door.

I search for my keys in my bag, only realising that I was in a rush this morning on trying to get to college on time and forgotten them as usual. I flip over our door mat, saying 'slide to unlock!', and lean down to pick up our spare-

What? Where's the spare... Alani!

I twist the door knob hoping for the door to be unlocked, as I see a flat out Alani on the floor in her pink ballerina outfit through our door window. Her head sways as she listens to something playing on my old record player, that our Mama gave me. With no luck in opening the door, due to some little diva locking herself in, I sigh deeply and knock on the door loudly.