Ballet Boy [Ballet With The Bad Boy]

12 Years Old

The nurses were nice. Well, they always were when I came in so I guess they must like me.

The medicine they'd given me had made the achey pain in my arm numb down but it still felt weird.

Luckily the game I had loaded into my Gameboy could be played with one hand so it easily kept me entertained while my Mum and I waited in the emergency room.

"Leo, turn it down." My Mum breathed from beside me and I couldn't help but roll my eyes and flick the button on the console to turn down the volume.

It wasn't even that loud, she was just complaining for the hell of it because she liked to annoy me.

It was around 10 more minutes before my arm was completely numb and I was called forward by one of the doctors to get my arm put in plaster.

The nurse that was delicately tending to my arm was keeping small talk with me, probably to try and keep me distracted from the police who had been waiting the whole 5 hours of us being here to talk to us.

"What's your favourite subject at school?" The nurse smiled, setting out everything she needed to plaster my arm.

"Uh, sports I guess." I didn't want to say that dance was my favourite. Everyone usually laughed when I said that I preferred dancing to football or basketball.

My Mum still wouldn't let me join the dance group that was near to my school. It's like she was embarrassed of me.

I mean, I would be too. Who would want a 12 year old boy dancing like a sissy instead of wrestling like all the other boys?

"Sports are fine, art was my favourite." She replied, smiling and showing the blue elastics on her teeth from her braces. She must be pretty young since she still had braces.

"Art is cool, I just find painting hard." I sighed, thinking about my painting skills that my teacher always flawed in school. Stupid Miss Jones.

I kept on talking to her until my arm was finished and waiting to dry when the police finally decided it was time to talk to me.

"Hey Leonidas, how you doing?" The policeman sat on the chair that was next to the bed I was sitting on.

"It's Leo," I snapped "And I'm fine. I want to go home."

"Leo!" My Mum cut in straight away, sending an apologetic look to the PC and glaring at me "He just needs to ask you some questions then we'll be going."

Deciding that my Mum was probably on the end of her tether, I didn't say anything and looked back to the officer.

"It's ok, I just want you to tell me what happened at home with your Dad." He explained, picking his little notebook out of his belt and clicking his pen so he was ready to write.

I hesitated at first, my eyes going back to my Mum who gave a small nod to me.

I was so used to lying to the police when they would come knocking because she was scared of Dad, he would make us lie and give stupid excuses as to why I had several bruises on my back and why Mum always had me dressed in full tracksuit to cover it up.

But with her nodding to me, it was the go-ahead to tell the truth.

"He came home from work, asked Mum what was for dinner, came up to my room and I was... Dancing to some music." Again, I looked to Mum who looked like she was on the verge of tears.

I paused, biting my lip slightly in agitation as the memory of this evening came back into my brain.

"Why the hell are dancing like that?" Dad shouted as he barged into my room, unplugging my IPod from the speakers and throwing it across the room.

I jumped at the smash of the small electronic and stepped back from him.

"I- I was just messing around." I stuttered, pushing my hair out of my eyes as it had grown out too long.

"Yea sure, that why your hair is all long and girly too? You wanna be a girl?" He spat out and I flinched at his words.

"I don't want to be a girl, I just wanted to dance." Why was I answering back? It never got me anywhere.

"Think you're smart kid?" Dad laughed, taking slow steps further into the room, making me take small steps backwards until I hit my wardrobe.

"No." I tried to make myself feel as small as possible so he wouldn't carry on but he wasn't having it.

I just slammed my eyes shut, awaiting the pain.

"I'll show you how to be a real man." He laughed, a grip appearing on my arm and my natural instinct to pull away kicked in.

This time, his hold was too harsh, and the more I fought back the tighter it got.

We made it to the top of the stairs and I kicked my legs around again, trying to break free but I accidentally kicked him in the shin.

The grip on my wrist vanished and he let out a small grunt of pain as I felt myself fall. That's when I heard the crack of my arm against the bannister.

All the other bumps and hits on my body from the stairs felt like nothing compared to the one in my arm.

I couldn't help it, I just cried and cried.

The world zoned out and the screaming of my Mum and Dad blurred into one. The next thing I knew, there were blue flashing lights illuminating the room and a kind man was helping me onto a stretcher.

"So your Dad has hurt you before?" The policeman asked, not looking up from his notebook where he was quickly jotting down everything I was saying.

"For a few years now... I can't remember when it started." I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at the floor.

"Ok. Thank you Leo, Mrs Taylor, for your time. Your husband will remain in custody until a court date is decided. We'll be in contact until then."

My Mum exchanged goodbyes with the policemen and eventually it was just me and her left in the room.

The bed dipped next to me and my Mum wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tightly.

"I'm so sorry darling..." Her voice was low and wobbly, as if she was ready to just burst into tears. Why was she crying? She wasn't the one with a broken arm right now.

She wasn't the one who got punched and kicked nearly every night for years. She just had to stand and watch and keep her mouth shut.

"What's gonna happen now?" I questioned, beginning to feel uncomfortable in her hold.

She sniffed in slightly, pulling away and quickly wiping away the small tears that had trickled down her cheeks.

"We're going to move away. As soon as the trial is over, we're moving far, far away." My Mum looked like she was trailing off in thought as she finished her sentence so I zoned her out.

Of course, we have to leave my home, leave my friends and family. It's never what I want. Always what she wants.