When I got home from dance I was exhausted. That's nothing new, people who don't do ballet don't realize exactly how much of a work out it is.
"Mary!" my mom called as I came in the door. I kicked off my shoes and leaned against the wall.
"What is it?" my parents are the only ones who call me Mary, everyone else calls me Maribelle. I guess it's part of my mystique. I wish they would though, it makes me feel cute and well loved.
"Chelsea called for you, she wants to know if you want to go to the mall tomorrow."
What does it say about me that I'm friends with people who have names like Chelsea? Actually, that was terrible too, we're starting over again.
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Dreams
General FictionEthan dreams of Maribelle, the beautiful and popular dancer, every night, but in his dreams she's not the same person as she seems to be in reality. Meanwhile, Maribelle struggles with facing an image of herself she has painted, one that she feel...