Silent Art

Silent Art

Baila

The lights appeared out of the darkness and I smiled. I was home.

Shutting the door behind me, I began to walk, hearing my light footsteps trail behind me. I dropped my blue duffel bag on the staircase and relished in the feeling of my bare feet touching the cool hardwood stage. Glancing at my long tan legs, leading up to my purple shorts, and then up to my blue sports bra, I took a deep breath and smiled.

Plugging my iPod into its dock, I hit play and began to take off on the whole stage.

(A/N This is where you'd play the video to watch her dance.)

Stopping briefly to catch my breath, my heart momentarily stopped as I heard the door slam open. I shut my eyes tightly hoping that it wasn't any one with any form of authority to kick me out.

"Ella!" An aggravated voice shouted. I groaned inwardly, but a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders knowing that it was only just...her.

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving, Carmen." I muttered, picking up all of my stuff and throwing a shirt over my head.

Carmen smirked, "Good, because this place is only for real, trained, dancers, not whatever the hell it is you think that you do, Ella." She called after me.

"Fine," My foot was a step out the door, when I decided to quickly turn on my heel and speak, "If you're going to patronize me, at least say my fucking name right. It's Baila." Before even getting the opportunity to hear her response, I shut the door behind me and left. The cool air brushed past me quickly and I shivered. Beginning to run, I moved quickly past the alleyway, admiring the look of the graffiti on the wall briefly.

"You need to get out of this house!" He shouted at me.

I stood up, "Fine, pretend that nothing happened!" I yelled back.

"How am I pretending that nothing happened?" I wiped away my tears and threw a bag over my shoulders.

"You're trying to rid me of everything that ever belonged to her! Even though she's gone, we aren't." I say and slam the door. I wandered around holding my mothers dance bag, seemingly seething with anger. As I continued to walk, I was drawn to an ally with various graffiti drawings on the wall. I continued scanning the walls, when the biggest picture there drew my attention. It was girl standing there, holding a sledgehammer and next to her was the phrase: "If you want to achieve greatness, stop asking for permission." I stared at the phrase trying to comprehend what it meant. It felt so deep but so simple. Like what the artist meant seemed too obvious, but you couldn't seem to put your finger on what exactly he or she means.

Over time, I decided I wanted to follow the saying. Whatever I want to become the best at, I will do it, not holding back on anything. Become a dancer. Become a spitting image of what my mom should've been.

I inched forward only to see a door. Pushing open the door, lights illuminated the room and I smiled.

This was my new home.

I continued on my way home, taking in the beautiful silence. When I finally got home, I dropped my keys on the table by the door and my bag. Hearing the rustle of the keys my older brother shot up from the couch in excitement.

"Bella!" He screamed. I swear if I didn't tell you he was older than me, you probably wouldn't believe me. Over the years I've allowed people, and by people I relatively only mean my brother, to call me Bella since my name is pronounced like 'Bai-lah', so phonetically it would sound like Bella.