Grand Stage (1)

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—ENTERING

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ENTERING...

..COMPLETE!

♠︎♥︎♦︎♣︎

'Breathe in, and out', I think to myself. I have rehearsed this routine many times before, the bruises that have formed on my feet over the years, carving new patterns onto my skin. The particles of dust in the air, floating through the feathered dress that embraces my worn body, and this repetitive melody that has been engraved into my ears, violin piercing my brain as I begin to move myself gracefully along the stage. Thousands of eyes peering through me, as the bright rays of the spotlight compliment my features so slightly.

  Ever since I was young, my mother would always push me to perform perfectly, work harder, and greet everyone with an innocent smile. I have always viewed her obsession with the public image she made for herself as bullshit. For instance under her facade that she masks herself with, she is rather insecure. Now, there is nothing wrong with being insecure but the way she handles it makes me wish I was born into another family, always taking her bottled anger out on me in a heat of a moment.

I snap out of my thoughts and try to convert my attention fully to my performance but for some reason the image of my mother praising me and congratulating me always appears when I am performing, as if to taunt me, to tell me she will be standing backstage waiting for me with a smile on her face. How naive. My mother is a selfish woman who will stop at nothing to get what she wants. Which is what I envy of her. However, my father on the other hand is a gentle man. He is a craftsman who is almost always in his workshop planning out his next project. Though, none of my family is oblivious as to why he hides himself away in his thoughts. A few years ago, my uncle passed away after being hit with a car, the catch is my father was right behind him. Ever since he saw the death of his brother he has been short spoken and always working. He even turned to martial arts which he later forced me into learning as well. However I was not upset as I preferred it over ballet and the constant degrading of my mothers voice.

   By now I finish the last of my dance as the audience cheers for me. One thing I will always love about ballet is the feeling of finishing your performance with no flaws. I take my final look at the crowd as the curtain slowly closes and I begin walking off the stage into the back area. However, I was stopped abruptly by a tall woman.

   "My Y/n you did so well tonight!" My mother exclaims in my face as she embraces me in another one of her suffocating hugs.

   I plaster on a fake smile, "Thank you mother. Was dad able to come tonight?" I asked hoping I could speak to him.

   "No, he had an important dinner with a co-worker of his." She informs me.

   "Oh", My smile fades as I notice the huge bouquet of roses in my mothers hands. "Are those for me?" I ask to confirm.

   "No they're for the dog." she says staring at me for a moment before laughing, "Of course they're for you, I just knew you wouldn't let me down".

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