The Rough Diamond

~Again~

The picture above is Diamond. This is how I imagine her, just without the blue hair dye. I'm truly sorry if I offend someone with my German google translate & the food I used. Also the italic text in the longer paragraphs also  means their speaking in german that way I don't have to translate everything out really badly. Also the school she goes to is completely made up. I used a name generator and everything.

{Song~Holding ur hand ~Atlas}

{Diamond}

Wrong. My foot was two feet
centimeters away from perfection.

"Nochmals!"

As the word left my mothers mouth I jumped into action. My feet carrying me around the long abandoned dance studio.

"Rücken gerade, Kopf oben, Zehen spitzte."

I listened following each instruction, allowing my body to push itself. I was beyond exhausted, we've been here since three this morning; it's ten thirty PM now.

I lifted my leg and held my breathe as she circled me. She placed a single finger on the arch of my back, leaning in close to my ear she whispered.

"Falsch."

She backed away slowly, eying me her pale blue eyes dared me to move a muscle; before turning. I watched her through the many mirrors on the wall as she packed up our things, extremely slow I might add.

My legs began to scream, a well known scream I'd long ago learn to block out. I held myself perfectly still and straight, with the slight adjustment to my back.

"Kommen Sie."

I dropped my leg and quickly changed shoes. I rushed after my mother, her heels tapping on the pavement outside the studio.  She waited as I caught up to her, we walked in silence through the loud streets of NYC.

"I changed your practice schedule. We'll discuss it once we get home."

I nodded. My mother only spoke German when we were alone. Not that it made much of a difference, her accent was thick like honey. I walked along side her, head back I stared up.

Sometimes wish I could see the stars past all the bright city lights.

~~~~

At the age of seventeen here I sat letting my mother drag the comb through my hair. We were sitting in the living room on the couch,correction she sat on the couch. While I was on the floor in front of her holding several rubber bands and a jar of blue magic.

As she finished a perfect part she dipped her fingers into grease before dragging her fingers down the part. I tried to turn my head in the direction of the tv, but my head snapped back once the comb connected with the back of my neck.

"Stop turning your head and look straight." She said while turning my head.

I winced and whined as she began braiding.

"Mutter not so tight."

The German word flying from my mouth out of habit.

I winced internally as she braided my hair into two tight French braids. I could never understand how she managed to squeeze all my hair into only two braids.