Nothing I Can Say

Chapter One

I don't know how I got here. The last thing I remember is dancing my hardest in front of 2000 people. The song was Wonderland by Taylor Swift. I had a solo. The beat drop after the bridge was just about to happen. I was pirouetting. Turning, turning, falling...falling...falling into a tunnel of darkness.

I dropped my bag down on the polished wood floor and took a deep breath. The dance studio was empty; rehearsal didn't start for another hour. But I wanted this time to myself. I couldn't dance at home. Four kids, two raging parents, one modest house. I was always being pestered and needed: 'Isabella, come play with me' (my six-year-old sister, Zoe); 'Isabella, I need help with my homework' (my nine-year-old brother, Ollie); 'Isabella, leave me alone!' (my seventeen-year-old sister, Alesha). I sighed. Being the eldest, Alesha was probably expected to take care of the rest of us, but she was hardly ever around. Neither was Dad, to be honest. And when he was around, I wished he wasn't, because all he did was fight with Mum. Sometimes he didn't come home until midnight, other nights the yelling started after dinner and lasted right up until the very early hours of the morning. Those nights, Zoe and Ollie crept past Mum and Dad's room and into the room Alesha and I shared. The times Alesha was there, she would grumble that they were keeping her awake, but then she would grab Zoe and give her a squeeze.

So seeing as Alesha didn't act as the responsible sister, I had to step up. Little Zoe needed a proper mother because Mum didn't pay very close attention to us. She cooked for us and she did care for us, but she never played with me when I was Zoe's age, never helped me with my homework at Ollie's age. Poor Ollie wanted so badly to be the top of his class, but dyslexia held him back. He was always needing a little extra help, but he tried so hard on his own. He was a quiet, shy boy, rarely asking for things, always incredibly polite. I did my best to boost his confidence, but Zoe was very needy as well. She always wanted to be entertained, and whenever she didn't get her way, she had a tantrum. When Dad was home in the afternoons, he would roll his eyes and groan. 'Can't you get her to quiet down, Emma?' he would say to my mother. Then she would look at me, and I would have to deal with Zoe. It was weird Alesha was Zoe's favourite, because she was never there to develop a relationship with her. Zoe looked up to Alesha and didn't like me nearly as much. Alesha could always quieten Zoe. All she had to do was give her a cuddle and whisper soothing words to her, and Zoe would soon start smiling again. But when I tried this, Zoe struggled and screamed.

My only real escape was the dance studio. When I was dancing, I was in another world. Everything else washed away, all my worries, problems, and thoughts. My only focus was on dance.

Today I decided to dance my favourite and best style; contemporary. I pressed play on my music, started on the floor, and stretched my leg up into the air. From then on, I was lost in the music, the spins, the jumps, the extensions. I didn't stop until I turned and saw Miss Eliza standing by the speaker, smiling.

"Beautiful, Isabella, really beautiful."

"Thank you, Miss Eliza," I said, gasping for air.

"How long how you been here, may I ask?"

"Uh, almost an hour," I said, glancing up at the clock on the wall.

"Right, well, your classmates will start dribbling in any minute now, so have a drink, catch your breath, and I'll see you for warm-up in 5 minutes." Miss Eliza floated back into her office. She was in her sixties now, and had long grey hair, always tied in a low bun, and wore flowy skirts and long cardigans. She was the founder and owner of Eliza Summersnow's School of Dance, and everyone loved her. Miss Eliza taught well, but she also cared about us individually. She always checked up on us to see how we were doing and was always there to talk if we needed to, no matter how busy she was. She was like a second mother to me. I walked over to the bench on the side of the studio space, where we kept our water bottles. As soon as I sat down, Jess came in with Emily.

"Hey!" they said to me, waving. I waved back and picked up my drink bottle, downing it in one go.

"You must be thirsty! Have you been here a while?" Jess asked.

I finally regained control of my breath again. "Not as long as sometimes," I replied. Jess and Emily were my best friends. We met at Summersnow when we were four years old, in beginner ballet, when we were just starting out as dancers. We've stuck together for twelve and a half years, and we know each other in and out.

"Come on, let's go and warm up," I say, walking back out onto the polished wood. Seb was there, stretching. He was my best guy friend, and my favourite to gossip to. He had big dreams of dancing at Julliard and would do anything to get there.

"Hey boo," he said. "Did you see Miss Eliza talking to that girl in her office?"

"What girl?" I frowned.

"She was around our age, wearing dance gear, but I've never seen her here before."

" But auditions for Troupe One were weeks ago. Miss Eliza is very strict about who she lets in and when," Emily said, sliding into the splits.

"I don't know, could be anything," I said.