Mortality has always haunted everything since the dawn of existence, it was the only promised thing in a web of possibilities and for humans, it was their greatest fear as well as their greatest limit.
Although for Anastasia, she embraced and antici...
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A week has passed, or maybe two, Anastasia was loosing track of time, making her days blend together into a numb mess.
She went to college three times a week, cramping all her work together to be able to finish all of it.
She was sure she looked a bit mad for any outside viewer as she sat on the library table, days worth of books open on the table and days worth of sleepless nights visible on her face.
She went to practice every day in the afternoon and came back at night to her aunt's apartment, often skipping dinner to sit in the shower for a long time.
She didn't feel like herself, it wasn't her who got up every morning or sat on the train every afternoon. Something else was pushing her to continue, manipulating her like a puppet on strings.
Maybe it was her need to be perfect, or her guilt of not being perfect, or maybe it's their faces...
Their faces that she was seeing, sitting in the end of the room...
"Stop!" Oksana said loudly into the room, making the pianist remove his hand off the tiles and Anastasia to stop midway into her pirouette.
"Again, show more emotions." The old woman advised, making the brunette take a breath, her body starting to shake from exhaustion.
Taking position, Anastasia glanced at the end of the room where she saw the faces but was meet with the white wall, she ignored the numbness she felt once the melody filled the room.
Some ballerinas who had finished their own training entered the vast room, sitting down on the benches in front of the wall to watch Anastasia's performance.
From the corner of her eye, she could see their mocking faces, the glances they shared between each other, the whispers...
Oksana sighted and raised her hand, making the music once again stop. Anastasia rapidly fixed her hair, trying to preoccupy herself from the sick feeling that was creeping up her stomach.
"Again."
At the end of the training, Anastasia had lost count how many times she repeated the dance. She walked out of the room feeling unreal and went to the dressing room to change.
"She's just way too grim, she looks a second away from dying." Anastasia heard as she removed her pointe shoes, the voices coming from the corridor outside.
"I mean hey it's fitting," Another voice laughed, "The swan does die at the end, maybe she got really into the role."
Anastasia starred at the mirror. She couldn't help but agree with them, she was too grim.
Even though she didn't look grim after putting on makeup, it was still there as though death was always walking one step behind her.
A sick thought crossed her mind, that maybe this is just her fate, just like it was her parent's fate...
She felt the sick feeling rise from her stomach, she continued to ignore it and grabbed her white flip phone and dialed a number
"Hey, Jenn...?" She asked into the phone.
Anastasia heard the sound of loud music, like a party before Jenny's voice answered, "Oh hey Stace! I'm sorry i forgot to tell you that i wasn't coming to the studio today,"
"Oh it's fine," Anastasia assured, although she would've liked her to be here, "Are you coming tomorrow?'
"I'm not sure, I don't think so-" The line cut off for a while then came back, "I have to go, Bye Stace!"
"Bye J-" The call closed before Anastasia could finish.
She took the train home and once she entered the apartment, her aunt hadn't arrived yet, probably busy at work.
She pushed away the loneliness when she heard her steps echo into the vast apartment.
Anastasia made herself a cup of tea while finishing some required readings, the sickness she felt not allowing her to eat anything.
The next day was very rainy, Anastasia had to run to her car to avoid spending the rest of the day with wet hair.
She also ran to the inside of the university, almost slipping a few times much to her embarrassment, and made it to her first course a bit late but in one piece.
"-There are many themes to 18th century British literature, like politics and religion with the civil wars and the restoration of the monarchy, it was even named the age of reason..."
The Professor continued explaining as Anastasia sat down on her seat beside Edward Cullen who was watching her as if she was the most interesting thing in the room.
Edward was aware that he was getting more and more obsessed with her, but he simply couldn't stop all the questions that fill his head about her, making him crave answer after answer, like a true addict.
Perhaps it was because he couldn't help but run after the unknown. After a hundred years of knowing everything about everyone through their minds, he was suddenly sitting beside someone he could know nothing about.
He could never know her true thoughts, language always fails to explain our truest way of thinking.
She could lie to him about everything and he would believe her like a fool.
Even though Edward was the strongest one in the room, he couldn't help but feel like he was the weakest one in the world when she was here.
She was the closest thing to a god for him, he will never fully understand her, like a believer and a divine being.
"So, working in pairs or more, I want you to write about 18th century british literature," The professor announced, a few sighs filling the room, "This will be graded and will make quite an impact on your first semester results."
Anastasia looked nervously at the other students who were already making groups. She guessed this was her karma for not making friends when she got here.
"Are you be working with anyone?" Edward asked beside her, making her turn around to meet his gaze.
She was quick to notice his eyes. They were golden like the planet venus, even though they were obsidian black the last few weeks. She didn't want to be rude and ask him about it even though she was curious, knowing pupils can dilate when on medication or after an injury.
"No," She shook her head, a few strands of hair falling from behind her ear, "Are you?"
"No, i was wondering if you'd like for us to work together?" He asked, feeling slightly jealous when he heard someone else consider asking her in their mind.
"That would be great," She smiled at him, glad that she wouldn't have to work with a large group.
They locked gaze for a small moment, then Edward removed his black flip phone from the pocket of his gray coat.
"Here's my phone number, call me whenever you feel comfortable with so that we can start our work," He said, knowing she must be busy with practice and college.
She nodded, adding his number on her phone. "I'll start researching from now."
