Killing The Silenced

Killing The Silenced [1] The Unlucky Ballerina

Alright, first chapter is now up and has been renewed! I hope you like and please tell me what you think >.<

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I'm a ballerina

I'm a good girl

But that would just be a lie.

I wish to have some adventure in my life

Can someone take me away?

-Marcie Lakewood

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Taking a deep breath, she drew her legs upward, throwing them to her side before lifting them again. Her body swayed from left to right in a drunk but elegant motion with half opened eyes, making it difficult to tell what color she held underneath those pale lids and dark lashes.

Lips pressed firmly together as she suddenly threw herself into the air, landing gracefully to the ground with the slightest thump that went unnoticed among the crowed of admires that she held in her enchanting grip. If one were to take away the room and replaced it with a stage with a full orchestra playing at her feet, you would have thought she was a professional dancer.

The way she held every beat to the rhythm, how she could dance to anything and keep an enthusiastic smile upon her pretty face, or how she could charm the crowed and watch her in wonder at what she might do next. Yet, sadly even though she had gotten this far, she was still consider a runt to the older dancers who had taken well over twenty years of pure ballet, jazz and other forms of dances since they could walk.

Turing one last time she did a triple spin before ending with her arms posed in a classic ballet stance while her feet were poisoned in the second position. Now her eyes were fully closed as the music slowly faded, only to be consumed when a thunder of claps that roared throughout the large studio.

"Magnificent Marcie! You have once again showed the class what a fine example you are when you put both your time and determination into your work." A woman in her late thirties said with a cheery voice, her plain brown hair pulled back into a high bun that usually framed her heart shaped face that was attached to a slim body. The woman had been teaching her since she was the tender age of nine, and had thus been her instructor during these crucial years when she need the most support. Her mother had died about five years ago, and even though she had time to grieve for her, she still held the hollow feeling within that refused to vanish.

"Thank you Miss Noels." The girl named Marcie replied gratefully, seeing the class was filled with both awes and hints of resentment within the crowed of girls. She had been with most of the other students as well but never truly made friend among them. To the rest, she was either an idol in their eyes or some rich chick that was just lucky.

"May I go change now? I have to meet my father for dinner tonight." Marcie requested politely, watching as her teacher beam down upon her with her motherly gaze.

"Very well, have a good weekend Miss Lakewood." She said with a smile before turning to the rest of the class. "That also applies to the rest of you. Remember, practice makes perfect!" A few groans could be heard from the girls that were still exhausted from the six laps they had to run for the morning routine. Marcie only shook her head in dismay at the show of weakness they gave off before she left them.

Leaving through the door quietly, she headed to the dressing room that was near the back of the building. She made sure no one was in the room before she changed out from her pastel pink leotard into black baggy pants with neon blue straps at the sides with a plain T- shirt that was plain black in the front but in the back there was blue lettering saying something about human sacrifices and audience perception. Funny thing though was the fact that human sacrifices had been crossed out while audience perception was placed above the words as though to fix a error that was meant to be there.