As Soft As Snow

Affirmations

I came to in the ballet room. Darkness shrouded all details in the room except the lights of the building lights shining outside of the window. Windows lit up like lights on a Christmas tree circling buildings. My head was throbbing. How hard had I hit my head? I looked up at the clock. No. No way.

I rushed out of the room and into the elevator, frantically pushing the button and hopping frantically from one foot to the other as if it would speed it up. The easygoing elevator music did nothing to calm my nerves as it slid down the shaft, slowly. When the doors opened, I raced out, but tripped and landed hard on My stomach. Wincing in pain, I stood up, grabbed my backpack, and ran into the door. Of course the security guard had locked it.

Would My mom even notice? Would she care? Something in the back of my mind whispered to me, feeding me lies.

"Of course she cares!"

"She probably didn't notice. That's how forgettable you are. No one will remember you. Not even your own mom noticed that you didn't meet her."

I opened My phone to a singular text message.

"Working late. Sry honey, see you in the morning."

She didn't know. My own mom didn't know that I was locked inside the elective building. A tinkle of snow fell beyond the glass doors. In the light of the street lamp outside, my face was reflected back at me in the glass. Desperation painted on my eyes like a painting. Strokes seen and observed, never disappearing. Never. Never. Never, ever, ever.

I pounded on the glass, bang, bang, bang. It's reverberation echoed throughout the lobby. Sweat formed on my forehead. No, not now. No.

A wave of Anxiety rolls my over and leaves me gasping on the floor. A billion thoughts bouncing all around my headspace.

"You're gonna die."

"No one loves you."

"Will anyone find you?"

"No one will even notice. No one cares about you."

My head pounded as the thought screamed like wind in my head. I was crying now, salty tears flowing down my face, pooling on the floor. For the second time in the last half an hour, the world faded to black.

As I sink down, down, down into a dreamless state. Thoughts bouncing around in my head like bouncy balls. As one bounces near my, I grab it. The exterior felt slightly squishy, yet felt deep. Almost as if it had a trench inside of it. I held it up near my ear, listening to the three words over and over until I didn't believe the words that it kept trying to tell me. I try to throw it away, but it bounces back. As I raise it back up to my ear, the ground disappears under my feet and she falls deeper into my own personal hell. Fires burn around me, thoughts kept in cages. Never let out, never seen, never heard by me.

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A strong arm shakes me, waking me from my uncomfortable night on the ground. A concerned security guard kneeled over me, his arms on both shoulders. She shrugs him away, grabs my bag, and runs out of the now unlocked doors into the snowy sidewalk. She pulled out my phone and checked the time. 8:23.

She turned around to the security guard, and asked him, "Can we please keep this between us two? I have too many people worried about me right now, I don't need them worrying more."

He shook his head in disbelief as he turned back. I took that as a yes, and rushed off in the direction of my apartment. The snow crunched under me as she ran, breath crystallizing as it came out in gasps. my legs burned, my face feels ice cold to the touch, yet I still ran. Running, and running. Escaping? No, just running. She ran faster, the snow shot up as she ran past. At one point she stops at one of the bridges in Central Park. She peered over the edge and stared at her reflection in the water. Ridges outlined her eyes, Desperation still painted into her eyes, into her soul, into her identity. Her hair hung over her like a rope, tangled and messy.

I turned away and resumed her mad dash for my apartment, escaping the image of her, now imprinted in her mind.

Her door looked like it shone in the distance, a saving light for her. A guiding light. She's made it. She scrambled for her key unlocked the door and fell inside. Breathing heavily, she stood up, closed the door and made for her room. Her mom's purse sat on the counter, yet another problem she had to deal with. She crept up the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky one, retrieved her homework from two nights ago, deposited it into her backpack, and proceeded to run-sneak down the stairs again and out the door. I didn't wanna wake my mom to force her to drive me to school. As I ran, I mentally prepared myself for the school day. My legs ached and my brain felt like it was going to shut down. On the way back to the school, she stopped in the cafe and grabbed a coffee which she carefully sipped down to a lower level before resuming her run.

The school entryway appeared on the horizon like a gateway. She slowed her pace to a walk, her sides screaming in agony afterward. A large bell sounded, admitting the students into the school. Two groups formed out of the chaos of students, one heading towards the elective building, the other towards the school. She joined the line to the elective building and pulled her backpack off of her back to double-check its contents.

As she's preoccupied with checking the things in her backpack, she accidentally bumps into a boy, causing it to fall to the ground, spilling her things. She bends down to pick them up and the boy starts to help before she shooes him off saying that she doesn't need help. The students flow around her, reciting lines and writing in notebooks. Ideas thought by others, surrounding her as she scrambles to collect her things.

After picking up everything she had dropped, the elevator ride awaited. Shooting up into the sky like a rocket, bringing her closer to the sun. The bell dinged, informing her that daydreaming time was over, opening to the studio. Warm morning sunlight flowed through the windows, into her eyes, golden, yellow, orange, and red tints appeared on the ground like stained glass.

Her hand flies up to her face, before gingerly stopping to wipe a tear from her left eye. Others slowly filed in, unpacking their stuff, and talking with their friends. As the last of the other students entered the room, she snapped out of her trance and made her way to the bar. Her friends beside her looked at her weirdly, as if not exactly seeing her as she saw herself.

Madame enters the room and practice starts. The world fades to black. I hear the words being told, and I follow them. One by one. Two by two. Three by three. Four by four. Before I know it, practice is over. It always seems to go so fast. Hours passing by in seconds. But always the same amount of seconds. Always the same amount of songs. Always the same amount of mistakes. Not perfect yet, not perfect yet, my internal voice echoed as the music played. No, wrong, wrong. Statements that I knew were the truth. The smile of adoration on Madame's face rippled until I could see a frown. Worried or disappointed. I thought I could guess which. I was wrong, yet again, and deep down, I already knew I was wrong.