When new girl Michelle joins A-troupe, everything changes. What'll happen now that Emily's throne is up for grabs? With love comes scandal, sex and secrecy, and with these dancers, there's always a price to pay.
The Next Step TV show reimagined as...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
5 Years Ago:
The sour sound of her scream tainted the walls, beckoning to be heard all throughout the night.
It stung my ears, almost as though I'd never heard the sound of anything so cruel before.
I guess that is true though, I haven't ever heard anything as heartbreaking as the sound that fell from my sisters lips at three o'clock this morning.
Calamity.
It was the only word to describe her frantic breaths and stained fingers. Her hair still dipped with the colour of the walls as her tear stained eyes begged for some explanation for why he was taken from us.
Taken so soon.
It was almost as if her mind had been completely shattered by the overwhelming feeling of grief. She hasn't been coping well, and this new house definitely isn't going to help her with that.
We walk through the rooms of our new home, each with a plan to be decorated to pay tribute to the great man that he is.
Or the great man that he was, is what I should probably start saying. I should also stop saying home, nothing could ever be a home without him living there with us.
We walk through the rooms of our new house, each with a plan to be decorated to pay tribute to the great man that he was.
It's not the same though, his spirit doesn't haunt these walls in the same way it did our previous house. He's never walked in here, never taken his shoes off at the door before my mom could shout at him for traipsing dirt across the newly polished floors. He's never lounged across the couch and watched the tv with Emily and I, our heads resting on either of his legs as we lay across the sofa, a beer in his outstretched arms as his eyes remain glued to the screen, tentatively watching the soccer game.
It's different now, everyone can see that. It's been a year, and the pain still hasn't gone away yet. I'm not sure it ever will, I just don't think I can ever accept that it is right for me to live in a world where my dad does not.
Rebirth, that's what they called it. The various counsellors my mom made Emily and I speak to. They never worked though, Emily never spoke to any of them. Not a single word fell from her lips, just the slow crawl of tears across her cheek as she stared at the yellow walls of the ugly buildings.
I spoke, I spoke for a long time. Filling the silence with my meaningless words, I think I was speaking for both of us, but I know deep down that the counselling was never for me.
I'm okay, I think I'm dealing with his death well. The counsellor gave me a lollipop one time because she said I'd been a good girl.
Emily just spends all of her days crying, I don't think I've seen her without tears welling in her eyes for over a year.
