"Annalise Annalise stop dawdling I need to get to work or I'll be sacked!" my mother shouted at the top of her lungs, "I know this isn't the best way to spend a birthday, but please understand, come along honey!"
"Sorry mama, it's a birdy," I pointed out a bird I found cute.
She wasn't as impressed by it as I was (if at all), it's little head and abnormally large body was quite funny to me. I held my mama's hand as she darted from street to street.
Until we came to a gigantic house. It was old but hadn't lost it's classic charm. How it delighted me with its large cream bricks bigger then mama's head. It's almost visible velvet satin curtains.
"Wow mama this is a big house!" I gasped in astonishment.
She giggled,"this isn't a house it's a ballet school, that I have to clean, so come along Annalise let's not dilly dally."
I rushed up the stairs and mum opened the door. It was even more beautiful on the inside. My jaw could have torch the floor. My hands could have reached the skys. On the floor there was squares on an angle they where mainly white but every so often there was the odd black tile, in some sort of calculated format. Then on the ceiling there was weird swirly patterns like leafs surrounding a chandelier. There was a sweet smell of roses. I found, from the side of my eye, that there was a china pot full to the brim of red roses, yellow tulips and Anne's lace. A beautiful combination of flowers, though not the best I'd much prefer violets, purple hydrocephalus, bluebells, lilies, forget-me-nots and cornflowers .
I wobbled away from mama. I was in a trans following a sound a beautiful, lovely sound; it was loud in a harmonious way. I could have swad in complete tranquility.
In my doze I ran into a woman. She was tall, slim and pale. She had platinum blonde hair tied up in a tight bun. However, just as her body, it was thin like a wisp. It was quite obvious she wasn't doing well. Her eyes where amber though dull, emotionless. She had big, dark bags under her eyes. She wore a blue long sleeve pole shirt with high waisted loose beige pants. When she sore me her face brightened.
"Oh hello Annalise, oh my you've grown oh I'm so glad your mother kept you despite the war," she whispered in a sweet motherly voice, "*gasp* it's your birthday today *gasp* your 5 years old, I have a gift for you come with me."
I followed the woman upset too not know were the music came from. We came to a flight of stairs that went down to a long hall with lots of doors all high and a deep dark brown. She came to one with 115S. She opened the door with a key from her breast pocket.
The door opened :I expected a large, white, immaculate room. But to my dismay it was dusty, brown and small. I felt a little dejected by the eyesore. The floors where wood and bended in - this being a sign of old age. It seemed to only been cleaned a decade ago, the only clean things where the chest of drawers and the bed. She opened one of the draws. In the draw was a seed cake she cut a slice then put it on plate. She place the piece of cake in my dainty hands. I ate the cake as she talked.
"Oh my gosh your so much like your father, AHH I could died, I'm Kelly," she squealed,"your like a pot doll well I'll leave you to it."
She left me just like that. I got up only abandoning a few crumbs. I went up the stairs to the second floor. There I heard the music once again the same tune. I ran to it until it almost deafened my ears. The was so intoxicating, addicting and irresistible. Every bone in my body moved along to it like a mouse to cheese, a familiar concept.
My little legs carried me to a slightly opened door. I peered in to see a man and a woman leaving the middle of the room to the side. The enchanting music stopped.
Then a bearded man showed in an accent, "dance of little swans."
The music changed but still gave me euphoria to hear the promiseing melody. Four ladies entered the middle of the room slim and tall. They moved gracefully but fast it was magical. My reverie was discontinued by voice.
"What's wrong with you girl?" She spat at me.
"Nothing mam." I blurted out as I stood with my hands behind my back. I almost jumped out of my our skin.
She smirked.
"It's beautiful is not I once could dance like that," she paused with a deep breath, "I now teach."
She was only forty, with a little grey and age marks. But despite that I knew I wanted to be part of this dancing world.
YOU ARE READING
Young Sweet Ballerina
Historical FictionA young girl of 5 goes to work with her mother - a cleaner at waltz wing ballet. She sees them dance and is mesmerised by the elegance of the dance. She dreams to be up on stage in that light.
