❝𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞.❞
Tallulah Delacruz is a girl with a dream. The dream of becoming a prima ballerina. But her dreams are crushed when her parents force her to move to Forks, Washington.
Only...
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𝚉 𝙴 𝚁 𝙾
SCARS. Scars can change someone's first impression of you. People grimace when they see mine. Not because it's horrid. But because it holds meaning. They were inflicted by someone I care— used to care about. And many people know about it. I haven't told them. But gossip has.
Heads turn when I pass in the corridors. Whispers linger in my ears. 'Did you hear about what happened to her?' They whispered and I ignored them with a chill crawling up my spine at the memory.
Be obedient and perfect. That is what I've been told everyday of my life. They are the rules I've never broke. I've never stepped out of line, or made a mistake. Perfection. Is something I never fail at. I get perfect grades, and I always get chosen for the ballet lead roles.
Someone taps at my arm and I snap out of my daydream. "Class is over." A girl says and walks away. I put my books into my bag and walk out of my classroom to lunch. The hall is crowded with people and I walk past them. The whispers start again but I ignore them and plug my headphones into my IPod.
The lunch room is packed as usual and I sit myself down on a free table. I unzip my bag and grab my plastic lunch box. Inside is an apple, a pot of vegan coconut yogurt and a note. The little food doesn't bother me but I frown at the note. I pick up the yellow sticky note and read the words written on it.
Don't mess up tonight, or there will be consequences.
-Mother
I sigh and stuff the note into my pocket. I grab the green apple and bite into it. The sour bitterness caresses my taste buds but with each bite I'm reminded of how filthy eating makes me feel. But I keep on eating. I keep biting into the apple to nourish my body.
After finishing my apple I look down at the remains with disgust before inhaling deeply and moving on to my yogurt. I look down at it with shaking hands and shove the spoon back into my lunchbox. I take the half-eaten yogurt and the remains of the apple and throw them into the bin.
My hands on instinct raise up to touch my stomach and I let a sigh of relief when it feels the same as earlier.
˓𓄹 ࣪˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑
I lean onto my legs panting. My heart throbs and my legs burn. "Again." Eleanor Carter, my ballet teacher demands and I nod, pushing myself up. I wipe my forehead before preparing my position with my right leg resting behind me and my arms covering my heart.
Music starts to play and I let my body flow. I raise my arms up and step back, crossing a hand over my heart again to direct to the people beside me.
I can feel Eleanor's gaze staring at me as I perform Gizelle. I keep my body strong but also beautiful and graceful and slow myself to become one with the music. My gaze is high and I act as if I am Gizelle, as if I'm in love. Yet, she spirals into madness.
I finish with a chaine and relevé into a kneel. Eleanor claps loudly and I push myself to a stand with a smile on my face. "Outstanding." She yells and I roll my ankles around, soothing the aching pain in my bones. "Memorable, truly memorable." She applauds and walks over to me.
"You've got it, the part is yours." My eyes widen and a gasp out a laugh. "Thank you Miss Carter, thank you." I smile out. "Well done Tallulah, you are our Gizelle." My heart quickens and I laugh out with joy.
"Thank you so much." She smiles at me before looking behind me at a clock on the wall. "Stretch and then you're free to go." I nod and push myself into the splits on both sides before stretching my back out and standing up.
"I'll see you tomorrow." I tell her and walk away, grabbing my bag. I slide on my leg warmers and a jacket before leaving the building.
My father waits there in our black Mercedes. I push some thoughts away before sitting in the front seat. "I got the part." I tell him but he doesn't reply and stares at the road in front of us. I notice him clenching his jaw from the corner of my eye. "Is something wrong?" I turn my head and lock my eyes on his white knuckles gripping the steering wheel.
"Pack your bags, we're leaving." My eyebrows furrow and we pull up to our house. "What?" I ask him and he gets out of the car. I follow him quickly. "Why are we leaving." My body tingles as it's met by the cold windy air. I shiver and he unlocks our house door.
My mother greets us immediately with bags surrounding her arms. "Tallulah we're leaving." She tells me and my eyes widen. "But I got the part, I'm Gizelle!" I defend and feel an impact on my cheek, knocking me to the floor.
I let out shaky breaths and stare at my father who rubs his knuckles. "I thought this was what you wanted." I tell my mother who stares at me with a blank look. "You have five minutes." I push myself from the floor before rushing away.
˓𓄹 ࣪˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑
918 words
A/N- you might be a bit confused but next chapter will explain everything!
Also I want to give a MASSIVE trigger warning for the topics that will be discussed in this fic.
Tallulah struggles with her body image and her parents abuse, if you feel like you can't read this at the moment, feel free to stop now.
