The Dancer's Daughter (1D)

Chapter Thirteen

Ten years ago

"Mummy, can I spend the night with Mica tonight?" I begged, sitting right next to her. My birthday was just next week and I wanted to spend time with her.

"No. We need to work on your solo for the competition next week!" she snapped, not looking up at me. I frowned.

"What day next week?" I asked, my heart sinking. She'd never told me, and I was starting to think there was a reason.

"It's next Wednesday, dear. You'll need to be ready to go by seven in the morning, and we'll be driving for three hours," she told me, smiling slightly.

"But... next Wednesday is my birthday," I said quietly, tears beginning to form.

"Yes, but you'll be performing and you love that!" she told me, embracing me before standing and walking out of the room. Leaving me to cry by myself, again.

Dancing had always been fun, because it was something that she and I could do together. But when it became something that she couldn't take a break from, I was ready to quit. Surely we could find something else to do together! But I knew that the second I told her I didn't want to dance anymore, or at the very least not dance competitively, she would freak out and not listen. She'd go on pretending I'd never said a thing, and I'd have to suffer in silence, knowing she didn't care. I couldn't do that, it would hurt too much. So I chose to hold my tongue, pretending I still loved it.

I wiped my tears away, walking slowly to my room to call Mica and let her know I couldn't make it.

2 years later

I was in the studio, trying very hard to stick my quadruple spin. I almost had it, I was so close! But at the last second, my leg wobbled and I would have fallen if I didn't put my leg down. I sighed, frustrated. I didn't hear Beth coming up behind me, so I jumped when she said my name.

"Haley, are you okay?" she asked, laying a hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah, fine. I'm just... I'm trying really hard to get this right. I want her to be proud of me," I explained, sitting down on the floor.

"She would be proud of you no matter what. You are her only daughter, and she loves you. She's proud, even if she doesn't say it often. I've seen her when she talks to you, and she doesn't complement anyone else the way she does you," Beth told me. She smiled kindly.

"I know... but I don't. She criticizes me more than anyone else. She hasn't given me a true complement in over a year, Beth!" I said softly, trying not to cry. More often than not, she made me want to curl up into a ball and just hide for a few days.

"I know she may come off as tough. But she loves you more than anything. More than dancing," she said, equally quietly. She rubbed my back gently and then stepped back. "Now, let's see that spin. Maybe I can help you."

3 years later

"I'm sorry, Ms. Miller. Your mother is passing, right now. It would do you no good to come down here, she'd be gone before you could get here. I'm so sorry."

"No, you don't understand! She can't be dying! We have a competition tomorrow, and she has to dance!" I cried, sobbing.

"Even if she weren't dying, Mrs. Miller has not been in a condition to dance for many months now."

"You're not... You have to be wrong! She isn't dying!"

"I'm sorry. Is there someone else you want me to call?"

"No. No, I'm sorry. I'll... I'll be right there." I hung up the phone and sank to the floor, knowing I should call Beth but unable to move. My mother, the woman who had always made me feel... She was dying. She wouldn't be there anymore. I was losing my family, my entire family, and there wasn't a thing I could do.