Une Fleure Fanée

Week 1 Part 2 (Thursday)

     I feel good this morning. I take my Fluoxetine and I eat my breakfast. The thoughts don't tell me to throw it up. We go to the studio, and I have an acro private with Pressley and Sarah first as the other trio, GiaNina, Hannah, and Savannah work on their trio.

     We go over different types of stands, splits, needles, and bends. Sarah is crazy good at handstands. She can even walk in a contortion handstand. But my Mom wants to talk to Ms. Abby about me just doing acro as Ms. Gianna was helping us with our group dance. And I am terrified.

     From what I heard, it didn't go too well. Mom wants me to do more mature stuff, but it's only the first week. I am fidgeting a lot when Ms. Abby wheels in. She's talking to Ms. Gianna and me but was practically announcing this to class.

     "I was talking to Stacey, and you don't want to be in an acrobatic routine," Ms. Abby tells me.

     Of course, I want to do acro. I hate being singled out. But I've matured and done so much more. I don't want to just be known for acro. I should just say that I want to do one. Why did Mom talk to her? The thoughts begin to overwhelm me. Tell her that you want to do ballet. Tell her, Lilliana. Tell her. I cave in.

     "It's just that I've done a lot of acro in the past, but I've been doing a lot of ballet in the past, and I want to show you the ballet I've done," I mumble, biting my lip and shuffling my feet.

     "Go back to ballet school then. Show them," Ms. Abby tells me, pointing her finger at the door.

     My breath becomes shaky as the thoughts tell me to run. Run. You're not worthy enough to be here. I am not worthy enough to be on the competition team. So I do. I run.

     I know that Ms. Abby is probably going to pull me from the trio. Mom comes down from the viewing box and I manage to keep my composure because the cameras are on me.

     "I just told her that I've been practicing a lot of ballet and I want to show her that and then she said to show my ballet school instead," I hastily mutter out, trying to suppress the urges to run to the bathroom and throw up.

     She just tells me, "Okay."

     I know she wants to comfort me more and hold me tight, and I know that she can't severely comfort me and make me look like a baby on camera, but she can show a little more sympathy.

     I collect myself and walk back into the studio. Or I thought I did. The dancers ask me what happened. I have to tell them the whole thing. I have to gain their trust. Normally, I'm bubbly, so it's the first time they've seen me break down. GiaNina puts her arms around me comforting me.

     I am told to work in the group dance studio so Ms. Abby and Ms. Gianna can literally discuss my future and I am pacing instead of dancing. The thoughts are telling me, You're worthless, Lilliana. If they put you back in, you're not worthy of it. My mind is scattered. She hasn't fat-shamed me yet, but she tosses me around emotionally like a ragdoll.

     "Lilly," I hear suddenly. It's Ms. Gianna.

     "You're back in, come on," she announces, and I follow her back into the trio studio.

     I am split. I'm ecstatic, grateful that my Mom didn't ruin my chances of proving myself. But the thoughts are telling me that I don't deserve it.

     When I come back to the studio, Sarah and Pressley stop dancing and run up and hug me. Taken aback, I giggle. The thoughts die down. My happiness is too powerful over my thoughts. We quickly resume dancing. My spirits are lifted and dampened at the same time. Odd.

     I don't bring up the talk that Mom had with Ms. Abby tonight. I just need some release. I pull up my favorite song list on my playlist and just freestyle dance. I feel like I am floating. That nothing can stop me. It leaves me in high spirits for the second night in a row.