It's A Dance

It's A Dance (1)

The beat filled the room as I spun across the floor in tight circles. I was in time with the music and my reflection spun with me. The music was face pace and I was dancing my stress away. The girl mirroring my movements reflected the pain I felt and the sorrow that surrounded me constantly.

"Who's there?" a male voice boomed. With a jump my head snapped towards the door where I could hear footsteps. With an annoyed hiss I grabbed my gym bag before going to the fire escape and leaving the building. I ran quickly through the dark city streets to my white picket fenced house. Like my family it looked normal on the outside but once you got inside it was dark, miserable and broken.

My father sat in his worn plaid recliner while my mother had finally drunken enough to pass out. My dad gave me an apologetic look and motioned for me to go hide my dance bag. My mother couldn't stand my dancing and there would be hell to pay if she saw me come home with my bag at midnight. Dancing was important to me and it hurt me to not be open about it. If I danced at home I was yelled at. If I was caught dancing I was yelled at. Nothing I ever did was good enough in her eyes. I was never good enough.

I slunk to my room with the peeling walls on either side of me. Our whole house was falling apart at the seams but my father couldn't do anything about it yet. He was saving the money so I could go to college and get out of this hell hole. He had been on my side for as long as I could remember even though he could have left years ago. He could have been free from the spawn of Satan yet he stayed for me. I owed my father everything and was able to give nothing.

Monday morning I walked to school and when I entered the doors neon papers greeted me with a picture of my iPhone on it. I cursed under my breath when I realized that I must have left it at the studio. The poster said to contact Daxton Richard, the popular football player. I swore again and went to my locker. Inside I was cursing myself out for being so reckless and stupid. I twisted the lock and entered the combination. After flinging open the metal door another picture of my iPhone with a note written on the back floated out and drifted to the ground.

This isn't good-I

The note was from my only friend Iliana. She was the only person who had access to my very private world. She knew my hopes, sorrows and scars. Along with my father she was the only one I could really count on to be there for me. Trust was hard to give freely when your mother was the one who had destroyed the meaning of trust. Once my trust was lost it was gone. Iliana and my father were the only people I trusted with my life.

"Rough night?" Iliana asked as she touched my forearm. She knew I had snuck out to dance again. It was her rule that I had to text her every time I went out to the dance studio at night. Iliana was protective but it was nice to have her. She was a great friend and I gave her a half-smile as I looked at her and nodded. No words were necessary. "Need a place to crash?"

"No I'll be okay tonight. She has a business meeting," I whispered. Iliana was always urging me to move in with her but I didn't want to leave my father alone with the beast. My mother would be the death of him, I was sure of it.

"Let's go to class," she said while looping her arm through mine. I was grateful for her obvious distraction. She knew talking about it was difficult. She also knew that I would tell her everything when I was ready. I always have and I always would tell her.

"What are we going to do about my phone? Dad spent so much money on it." My small, full lips fell into a frown. Dad didn't have a lot of money at his disposal and he rarely spent a lot on something so trivial.

"You're going to have to talk to Daxton," she replied as we entered the library for our free period. She dropped my arm and went to go sit down and begin whatever she was going to do. I nodded and continued walking before running into a wall of a person. Hands gripped my wrist before I completely fell.