Friday Night

11 0 0
                                    

Friday night has finally come. Which means I have successfully completed a first week in Nicaragua. Running my hands through my hair, I pull on a yellow T-shirt and its matching shorts. Looking in the mirror, I can already see that I haven't changed. I still have the dark circles under my eyes, my hair is still in its usual bun and my face expression is still set on its frown. I can't remember the last time I really smiled or laughed my heart out. Even though I don't look different, I feel different. There's this little stirring happening in my soul, I can feel it. There's a small knock at the door, and I rush to answer it.
"Hiya, Eddy," I greet, my fake smile already on my lips.
He raises an eyebrow at me. "Your going to bed already?" He asks. Despite the lack of manners, he really is a nice guy. He treats the kids with such gentleness and respect, and everyone adores him. He really is the perfect guy.
"Even if I was, does it bother you?"
"No. Mama told me to tell you that there's food, drinks and music. So you should come."
"A party?"
"Something like that. Its a tradition at the orphanage. Every Friday, we celebrate God helping us through another week. The kids enjoy it."
Oh. "Well. Um, I'll think about it."
He sighs. "She's just going to come upstairs and drag you down herself. Please, save yourself the agony."
Well. Um. No. "Its okay. I really don't feel like dancing. I'm really tired actually."
"Suit yourself."
I close the bedroom door and pick up my black and blue hardcover notebook. Its the most beautiful notebook in the world. My mother gave it to me as a gift for my fifteenth birthday. I run my hands over the material. I never had much use for it, until after she died. Digging through my bag for a pen, I open up to a fresh page. I don't know what to write. In the book, where most girls would use it as a diary, I used it as a poem book. I would let my words run free, and my emotions be set free through them.
There's another knock at the door. Placing the book back in the drawer, I open the door.
"Mama Celestia."
"You no come down for party? Kids asking for you! Come, come!"
I should really start taking Eddy's advice. Walking down with her, I smell food, and hear dancing. A slow fear starts to rise. I don't like parties. When I tell people I do, its because there is that constant hope of being forgotten, fading into the background with no one do drag me into the light. I can't exactly do this now. Everyone is dancing and laughing, and I notice that Elena and Scarlett are sitting on the bench in the distance. Scarlett sits on one side, and Elena sits on the other. I walk over and sit in the middle. Both look at me.
"Cute outfit," Scarlett comments and asks, "Shouldn't you be dancing?"
I give a tight lipped smile. "Not tonight." Or the next, or the next.
Mama Celestia claps her hands, drawing everyone's attention. "It's time for a dancing partner!"
Elena groans. "I hate this."
"Should I be worried?" I ask.
Both girls nod. Elena stands up, and walks over. "Mama is going to make the older kids dance in partners. She pucks the pairs and forces them to dance. Good luck if she chooses you."
I quickly get up. "I need to use the bathroom."
I'm five centimeters from the door, when she Mama calls my name. "Anastasia!"
I groan and turn around. Giving a weak smile, I walk over to her. "Si, Mama?"
She smiles and puts my hand in Eddy's. Smirking, he says, "Look what the cat dragged in."
"Shut-up." I'm trying to keep my cool, I'm trying to keep the nasty memories buried. I'm shaking on the inside.
"You don't like dancing?"
Slipping my hands out of his, I answer, "You wouldn't understand."
The music starts, and Eddy takes my hand again. His left hand is on my back, not too close to my waist. We dance to a fast paced song, and I'll give Eddy credit for not stepping on my clothes. I'm tense, and on the verge of tears. My memories are rising, so when the song ends, I smile at Eddy and practically run to my room. I haven't danced like that since I was seventeen. Everywhere hurts and I feel dead. Yet still at the same time, every cell in my body is coming to life.

Fall to PiecesWhere stories live. Discover now