Community service - a.i (slow updates) #wattys2017

Ana

"Back straight Ana!"

"Sit straight Ana!"

"Children should be seen and not heard Ana!"

All my life that's all I've been taught. From the day I was brought into this world I've been told what to do. From what cutlery to use all the way to how to waltz.

People think being upper class and having money is nice, but it's not. Going to private school, doing Ballet, playing instruments is nice but it isn't me.

I feel like I was meant to be different.

I see some boys and girls from the public school skate past my school when I finish. They look so free, like they don't have a care in the world. Whereas I have many.

I have my ballet exams coming up.

My piano recital, my chemistry, maths and biology exam and three university interviews, all to the top universities in Australia.

The first to ANU (Australian national university), the second to the university of Melbourne and the third to the university of Sydney.

I sigh as I push around the kale on my plate.

"Ana, don't play with your food" My mother scolds. I sigh and sit up straight, putting a piece if kale into my mouth and grimacing at the god awful taste. I quickly take a swig of water and shiver.

"May I be excused?" I ask.

"Of course, why don't you go practice for your recital?" My father suggests. I mutter a small 'okay' and walk out of the room and upstairs into the music room. I sit at the large black grand piano and start playing Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven.

After an hour of practising I walk over to my room and into the en suite, I run a bath and run back into my room, stripping myself of my clothes and going back into the bathroom, relaxing into the bubbles.

After my bath I complete all my homework and do a little revising for my exams before grabbing my journal from under my mattress.

Dear Diary,

I still feel the same way. Like this isn't me, like I'm meant to be somebody else. I wasn't born into the right family.

You know that lie your parents tell you when you're little that you were delivered by a stalk? I think the stalk sent me to the wrong family.

My parents use me to look good, I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't actually care for me. All they care about is money and looking good.

All I've heard all week is 'Recital' 'exams' and 'your fathers dinner gala'

The gala is after my recital so I wouldn't be surprised to my mother and father bragging about how well I did.

I want to be like the kids on the skateboards that I see every day. I want to take the risk of falling but getting back up and getting on the board and skating again.

I want freedom.

Your's dearest,

Anastasia.

I put my journal back under my mattress and pull of my robe and change into my silk pyjamas. I get into my double bed and press a button on my remote to turn the lights off. I lie down under my canopy and look at the small twinkling fairy lights, slowly drifting off into a deep sleep.