Entering the ballet I see people dressed in black, white, and red. I have a feeling I'll be underdressed. I know that the only thing I'll see are dancers superior to myself. I don't want to be here, but as the ticket lady takes my pass I am forced into a seat that is encased in coldness. Perfection.
The dancers saunter onstage, slowly and carelessly. The music begins to play, soft and sweet. White tutus and pink leotards blur my vision. Toe shoes kick and bend at the speed of light, everything moving by in fast pace, twirling, twisting, leaping, sashaying. Everything going by so fast, so smooth, so effortlessly.
The music stops. The dancers slow down. The night air entering the theatre turns rusty and cool. Another song starts up, darker than the last. It's slow and quiet, passionate, delicate, it's creepy in a sense. I wonder what this could mean. I want to know why things have taken such a turn. Dancing is mature, not dark. It's freaky, it's wrong, it's... dramatic. I love it. I want to be one of those dancers. I want to be one of those beautifully graceful women. Demonstrating pain with my dancing, my body, the music surrounding me.
Things start to slow down. The dancers move in slow motion, unexpectedly one girl drops. A woman in the auditorium screams, another girl falls. The music turns soft and mourning, the show must go on. The girls dance faster again, with darkness in their steps. Their shoes turn black, tutus stained with darkened blood, leotards spattered with the plum-colored residue off of a knife dipped in ink. Gunshot residue litters the floor, a slippery surface around the awestruck audience. Nobody dares move or even so much as breathe. The girls dance faster, maniachally, twirling, flipping, splitting, gracefully yet chaotically. Quickly, as the music ends, the rest of the girls fall. The curtains close.
The ballet is over. The people are gone. Yet here I sit, in the cheap seats in a New York theatre. Wishing, just for a moment, that I were one of those dancers. Dying in beauty. Living for the dance. Lasting my final night at a bloody ballet.
