Young Sweet Ballerina

Copy Cat

As I came to I felt a soft hand gently caressing my strawberry blonde hair. I rubbed my eyes, turning my head, to face no one. I set out of bed. I let out a loud yawn. This is my home I'm in peace, nothing could possibly have disturbed my train of blissful thoughts.

I come to an abrupt stop. My legs tremble. Wooden planks started cascading down in to a silk pool. I decided to descend towards this pillow. I find I'm able to stand my little fingers run across the fabric. I run through it in a state of euphoria, giggling merrily. My smile from ear to ear. It was like Alice in Wonderland. This magical place like no other so m

Up ahead there is a woman in her foutys she has on a black frock, the skirt is made of tool whilst the top is made from cotton. On the crown of her head I see two feathers that collided crossing at the center of her deep widows peak. She twirls her body round I soon join her. I'm doing very well until I hear the crack of my ankle. I fall down into the silk pillow, almost exhilarating in a peculiar way.

But all I met with was the floor, disappointment flooded my body more than pain as there was no larger duvet to save my fall. My mum comes running in "sweetheart are you alright?" She asked "are you hurt?"

I nod in return in the middle of my faint minimalistic response she raps her arms around me tight. This hug is so safe , safer than my dream, it gives reassurance. It gives every thing a hug should be. My mother places an angel kiss on my left eye. We stay in this referie you a long time.

I latch on to her hand and say "come on mammy I'd like to see those dancers.

She bursts into a smile, "Okay but remember no mischief," she laughed.

I listen to a class full of pupils my age. It's a beginner's lesson, they're not even in the production.

The slim woman of 5,4 announced, " first, second, third, fourth, fifth!"

It's quite clearly a command I copy the teacher from the crack in the door. Every little step she places on the polished floor I follow. Every time she changes her hand movement I change mine. Every time the music plays it sinks into my brain along with a little hum. Every time she says something I make sure to register it in my mind. I want to remember I don't want to get this wrong. I want to be the best I can.

Once me and my mum come home to are flat I use the bannister rail to imitate the bar in the studio. I memorised everything I practiced for hours, as if I was in a factory. Observed, dance, eat, sleep repeated. No time to stop no time to adjust my routine.

My mum was very proud clapping and giggling as I developed in a skill, in this world. I wasn't good at much unable to read basic phrases but I'm sure I learn

Though I knew I could never be in a ballet school. I could at least follow the lead of the other dancers. The worst part about it all was I was better than all of them. Most of them was either there to kill time, obey there parents or to gossip . None of them was there to listen to Madam Lorraine (I was practically her shadow). Sometimes when the other dancers had left there shoes or thrown them away I stole them. Most time they were to big for me but I saved those for later years, just using the ones that could hold my petite feet. I'd also take old leotards. It wasn't the best way to established my dream - but it worked at the time.

One year later it was my sixth birthday and world war two was coming to an end (hopefully). The first of September. I had practice day and night. Doesn't mean I was the best but my competition was miles behind me - out of the class I stalked. For my birthday my mum gave me I an envelope. I gave her a puzzled look. She just just gestured towards the envelope. The only problem was I couldn't read that well I was six.

"Mama what does it say?" I questioned.

She giggled, "sorry dear I forgot silly me it says, in short, an audition is being held for Clara in the nutcracker."

I screamed ecstatic with this news. I placed kiss after kiss on my mum forehead this was my moment my time. I could win a scholarship, if I'm lucky. The show would start in November 3rd end December 23rd. The younger Clara is in the show for 40 odd minutes. She also is twelve or ten. Should be under 5,2. All of this seems to not match me. I'm 4,3 tall for my age I should be 3,7 but perhaps if I'm good enough they'd say yes. I really hoped so.