She sat in the back, away from everyone. She sat with her legs up on the chair in front of her. Her shoes off, thrown lazily underneath her chair. She didn't pay attention to what was going on on stage. She was too lost in the thick novel she held. When she did look up, the look on her face said disgust and confusion. I could tell she was analyzing what was happening by the way her eyes flickered across the stage. She wasn't a fan of dancing, or the people doing the dancing. She would yawn and go back to reading. I've always felt strongly drawn to her. The dreams of her came almost every night. The next day I always looked forward to seeing her. I needed to talk to her, but I never could. I thought that maybe she came to the auditorium because she had a sibling that danced with the rest, but then I noticed she'd be there well before everyone arrived, and wouldn't leave until well after everyone had gone. I once came before everyone, just to see her. When everyone came in, I noticed the look on her face; disappointment. I'd come to the conclusion that she comes here for quiet but then is interrupted by the dancers. She did get stares from a few of the older dancers, she seemed to brush them off. They'd snicker and make jokes about her odd tattoos on her neck and wrists, but she didn't seem to care. She knew she was better than them. Wiser, more mature. I'd never actually heard her make a sound. But oddly enough, I knew how she sounded. She had spoken in my dreams. The day she had stopped coming to the auditorium, was the same day that she stopped coming to my dreams. Something inside of me said something was wrong, but I didn't listen. I should have.
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Hey guys! I'm thinking of doing a part 2 of this. Let me know if you want it!
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories
Short Story(that cover is pretty irrelevant but whatevs) Some times they'll be long, sometimes they'll be super short. Sometimes they'll be scary, sometimes they won't. Enjoy:)
