Balancing On My Pointes

UPDATE**** Yeah I put Harry Styles in the cast, lol i have NO SHAME. But at least this isn't one of those graphic fanfics about him being gay with 4 other guys lmaoo. he's not even playing as himself.... Eh, Enjoy directioners!!!! Again, this is NOT  a 1D fanfic for some of you sick Directioner bastards(;  I love you shower of c*nts!!! (LOL only true directioners woukd get that joke...)

“Alright, class dismissed! Oh, and Victoria fix your lines before I get cardiac arrest,” joked Mr. Lewis. As you already have guessed, I’m the chick who needs to fix her lines. No, not lines like in geometry (I’m trying to suppress 10th grade of you don’t mind!) lines as in my ballet line. I attend a small dance studio in Arizona and I’ve been dancing since I was 3. I’m 16 and, like every teen, hate life. Mr. Lewis, my dance teacher, is a really funny lad and also a very handsome one at that. As I walked through the door and stopped me by placing his hand on my shoulder.

“Very nice work today, Victoria,” said Mr. Lewis in his British accent.

I gave him a small nervous smile and replied, “Uh, thanks Mr. Lewis!” And I briskly walked away. He’s super cute, I would never in a million years date that guy. I mean, come on, I see him 6 days a week. Can you spell awkward? Anyway, I waited by the main entrance for my best friend Arianna. Unlike me, she does Hip- Hop. It’s her calling! Her personality is always upbeat and energetic, so when she incorporates that and Hip- Hop she’s legendary! We’ve been friends for like, 4 years. I consider myself blessed to have her in my life. 

Arri is a cute short black girl, but she is the whitest black person I’ve ever met (lmao). She is not “bad- shit- crazy” or “from the hood”. Quite the opposite, in fact. I could go on for hours about her, but I don’t feel like getting carpal tunnel today. I heard her signature laugh around the corner and she was walking with this girl I’ve only seen around a few times. She waved good-bye to the girl and walked over to me.

“Hey dude, so how was class with ‘Robert Pattinson’?” teased Arri. I playfully punched her in the arm and said, “He told me I needed to fix my lines before he had total heart failure and later grabbed my shoulder at the end of class to tell me I did a great job.”

“You know what they say, 99% of rape starts with a shoulder touch…” We started cracking up laughing as I threw a barrage of punches at her arm. “Ow, dude! Fricken, your boney ass knuckled like pierced into my skin!” cried out Arri. “You know what they say, karma’s a bitch.” I replied.

Arianna drove me home in her Mazda and we joked the whole way. She pulled up in front of my obnoxiously large house with a cocky steel gate. Yeah, did I mention my dad owns a corporate business of sorts? Well, I guess not anymore… He uh, died… The funny thing is, he left my mom and I ass deep in debt.  “Hey, you gonna be okay in there? I see your mom’s car. You wanna chill in my place instead?” asked Arianna. “Uh, no I’ll be fine… I’ll just come in quietly…” I opened the door and got out of the car. “See you at school, Arri!” After I bid my friend farewell I slammed the car door and proceeded through the gate.

Well this puts me in an awkward position, mainly because I hate talking about my mom. But since it has been brought up I might as well. When my dad died last year there was no one I could hide behind anymore. That’s right, I’m deathly afraid of my mother, always have always will. Why? Oh, I don’t know, I mean she only drinks and beats the crap out of me every chance she gets. This isn’t new, she always has. She tells me over and over how I was a “mistake”. She wasn’t supposed to have kids, she didn’t want them. I don’t know why, she’s just one of those people that don’t have a mothering bone in her skinny little body. That’s part of the reason too, actually. Before she had me she was a runway model in London. She met my dad in one of her shows and, well, here I am! She said my dad didn’t believe in abortion and insisted they get married and keep me. Everyone, even her parents and manager, told her to go through with it. I guess after she had me she couldn’t lose the weight fast enough and got replaced. She easily could’ve gotten a new gig, but before that could happen she turned into an alcoholic and lost everything. She basically pulled a “Lindsey Lohan” just without the drugs. She blew her career and blamed it on me. From then till now she never really talked to me, made it clear that I left her alone, and I get a shove every now and then. So I kind of exaggerated when I said she beats me every chance she gets, kind of. When I do something that annoys her she gets really riled up and scores a few shots on my shoulder and cheek. 

But, hey, what evs right? At least I know how to take a punch and it molded me into a strong person. I crept in the front door carefully and slowly closed it behind me. If she was passed out on the couch then I would have to take extra precautions and get myself a late dinner. I peeked around the corner. Not here, phew! I walked confidently through the living room and swung open the kitchen door. I jumped and gasped loudly when I saw her leaning on the counter with a glass of Brandy. Her lids where half closed when she slowly rolled her eyeballs up to me.

“And what the hell are you doing here?” mom asked in a lazy tone. I swallowed the lump in my throat and said “I- uh, just came back from dance.”

She looked at me standing there in my leotard and said, “No shit, you think I’m an idiot? What the hell are you doing here?” My face felt clammy and I responded less confidently, “I’m hungry. I want to eat something.”

She squint her eyes and slowly made her way towards me, slumping and taking heavy footsteps. We were face to face and I held my breath. She smiled a bit and let out a small laugh. “Well aren’t you special? I don’t even know why he bothered with you…” She slowly eased away from my face and pushed open the kitchen door. I let out my breath a few seconds after she left. Well that was spine chilling. I swear I almost shit myself. At least I have the whole kitchen to myself now! I munched on some leftover chicken Myra prepared the night before and had some Dr. Pepper. I know what you’re thinking, call CPS on the bitch! Dude, she’s my mom. It would be against my morals, and as long as I make little to no contact with her I’ll be fine. Plus, who will take care of me? A foster family? Yeah, like I’d give up this beautiful mansion and settle for a 2 bedroom apartment with 9 other kids and only 5 of them speak English, no offence! I’m not dumb, I’ve told my daddy about her many times. He’s a busy man, with the company and what-not. Sometimes he would say “Mommy doesn’t mean it sweetie”, or “Mommy is just having a rough time”. They loved each other passionately, but when business was rough daddy was stressed beyond his wits and mum was stressed because he was stressed. They loved each other and he simply could not comprehend that his wife was a cruel psycho who hates their daughter with a deep passion because she lost her career apparently because she had me. I mean, that’s pretty understandable. In short, (for you slow minded twats ;3) he didn’t want to believe it. 

After my delicious meal I went upstairs and zipped through my homework and accessed all my social networks.

Xxxxxxx

Much personality in this story ^.^ Well, please tell me what you think and PLEASE   constructive criticism! I wanna be a better writer, but only if you let me! What do you want from this story??