Forgive me Father, Let me Dance!

Chapter 4

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Sausages and bacon aren't exactly the healthiest meats to consume for a ballerina but if they weren't meant to be eaten, why were they made to taste so good right?

"It's okay... I'm allowed to cheat sometimes." I said to papa as he entered the kitchen. 

He smiled and gave me a gave me a kiss on my forehead.

"Your museli's on the table and I put some fruits out for you guys too."

"Ciaran, breakfast's ready!" my dad yelled out for my mum.

I knew my mother would take her own sweet time getting down, she was never organised about what to wear in the morning.

"Did you sleep well sweetheart? I thought I heard something last night."

I froze.

I didn't think anyone had heard me.

I suddenly jerked my hand off the stove with a yelp. Running to the sink I ran cold water on the finger I'd just burnt.

Dad's comment had just caught me off guard and I didn't realise the spatula in my hand had touched the flame accidentaly.

"I'm okay dad, really its nothing."

No convincing him really. I just plonked myself on a bar stool and let him ice my hand and check it out. Sheesh! Doctors...

Mum and Dad had always encouraged me to talk about the whole adoption thing. I'd mentioned the dreams to them too, I didn't think they were ever going to stop. But I never liked talking about it all that much to anyone really. When I was little I saw a therapist with them on and off and it did help, but I was okay on my own too otherwise.

Sometimes I would lie and tell people I was adopted as a baby just because they would ask me if I remembered my previous family.

And Adeel...

I remembered Adeel very fondly.

I remembered his cute face and his two little lower teeth that had errupted making him incessantly chew everything he could get his hands on.

He could gurgle out several versions of  "aaaaaaarrg" but I recognised the special "aaaauulrg" that he use to giggle out, trying to call my name and get my attention.

I hadn't dreamt about him in a long long time.

Once dad was done with my hand and he'd put some gunky lotion on it I sat down and joined my parents for breakfast. I wanted to fill up early considering the super long day I had ahead of me. I had a class at midday. And no, I wasn't taking a class. I actually used to teach.

I had started ballet lessons as soon as I started my new life here in England. It was something I saw once and it immediately pulled me in with such a force.

And once I started I was hooked. I would practice all night in my room, especially when the nightmares would haunt me. For some reason plie's at midnight really calmed me down.

It came to me naturally, and I loved dancing. My parents loved taking me to the classes too. I was so blessed to have such supportive parents! They'd stuck with me through this passion of mine, through every practice, every rehersal, every recital.

And as much as I would have loved to take it up on a prefessional level or even attend dance school, I knew that all I was doing through my dance was helping myself more than I would ever would be helping anyone else.

Which is why I decided to follow a different path professionally and decided to study to be a doctor. I was all about the blood and guts.

Blood Feast, The Beyond, Cannibal Holocaust... Oh I'd seen them all and loved it.