Chapter One: A Camera for a Pointe
The rays of the light from the blinds woke me up in my sleep. I haven’t slept peacefully in four years and I’ve grown accustomed to the replaying nightmares every night, even the repetitive crying. I’m even surprised that I can still cry like that. I shook my head and thanked God that somehow, amidst what I’m going through, I’m still alive.
I pushed my blankets off and made my bed. I sat up in my bed and started to dangle my feet. I felt the usual sting in my ankle and smiled. I went to bathroom and decided to take a bath. The cold shower startled me and I felt tiny icicles prickling my skin. I inhaled sharply as I turn the heater on. I rolled my eyes as a result of my stupidity.
I brushed the foggy mirror and saw an image of a green eyed lonely twenty year old lady with an inch of a scar just above the eyebrow. The luster or light in her eyes disappeared along with the memory of her happy childhood; still, she is not downtrodden with grief or an angst ridden person. Despite what happened, I went on living but of course, that night didn’t went on without a change. I paid my price for running away and I’m fine with it. I combed my long curly hair and put on a thin line of eyeliner and just a tint of red on my lips.
I smiled on my reflection and went on to grab my DSLR camera to proceed to the recital. I’m excited to watch Swan Lake and at the same time, I’m kind of anxious to meet my former colleagues dancing in the company. Well, I have to face them eventually, why not now? I explained to myself. The least I can do honor my late parents is to stand up with my head up high and face the world courageously. The bravery that my mother showed and the dignity my father maintained will be remembered everyday as I live my own life. I can’t say that the pain in remembering them is bearable when in fact, every time that I do, I cry like a five year old. I just kept moving forward with every remembrance. It is because when you decide to be tied into the pain of losing them; you’ll forget how to move forward.
I gave the house one last look before locking it and walking towards the bus stop at the end of the street. People are busy getting on with their lives and that makes the morning somehow cheerful or bearable. “Good morning Althea”. Mrs. Smith greeted me with a smile and her smile is so contagious that I just felt my lips curling into a smile. “Good morning” I replied. This is what makes living bearable. Knowing that somehow, you have a family even if they really aren’t gives me enough positivity. I slung my camera strap in my shoulder as I get my change to pay for the bus ride. “Good Morning Althea” a voice echoed from the bus and I looked for it by scanning the sea of faces seated in the bus. I found the owner and her face didn’t change a bit. She was still the image of a radiant woman.
“Hello Mrs. Myers” I smiled at my former ballet teacher. “It’s been a long time.” She commented as I settled to the seat next to hers. “Indeed.” I simply replied. There is no easy way in talking to my former instructor who treated me well for those years that I was enjoying the stage. According to her, I was her little ballerina.
“So much has happened and the next thing we know, things changed, people died and I can’t dance anymore.” I looked at her and smiled she smiled back but her eyes didn’t. “I’m okay Mrs. Myers, really.” I assured her. “I know you are. It’s just it’s still hard to see you with a camera rather than your ballet shoes” She shook her head while squeezing my right hand. I squeezed her hand back.
“Everything happens for a reason.” I smiled as we headed to the auditorium; I am after all, the official photographer of the famous Andrews Dance Company. This job makes everything alright; after all, this is the closest thing I have to dancing.
“Good luck Althea.” Mrs. Myers shouted as she walked straight to the backstage. “Break a Leg” I shouted back. I walked through the main door and immediately went to center aisle. There aren’t many people yet but I have to get the photo of the stage.
