Jealousy (A dance moms fanfic)

Prologue

When I was young, it was always a desire of mine to become a professional dancer.

At 3 years old I trained to become a ballerina. I would twist and turn around my house gracefully listening to Swan lake. As a child, being a ballerina was every little girl's dream. But I knew I was going to make it happen.

At 5 years old, I started tap. Tapping always used to be my favourite type of dance because it was so expressive and elaborate. It was unique. I wanted to become a professional dancer, and do tap. I knew I was going to make it happen.

At 8 years old, I began hip hop. I used to believe hip hop was so powerful, and the music was so loud and full of bass it always made me want to dance. I'd practice in my room, in front of my mirror, critiquing myself with every little mistake. I wanted to become a professional dancer that included hip hop. I knew I was keen to make it happen.

At 12 years old, lyrical was so beautiful to me. I used to watch the older girls at my dance studio dance to elegant music and leap effortlessly into the air. I made a promise to myself that I'd grow up to be just like them. Leaping felt like you were flying. Although, my dream of becoming a professional dancer started to diminish because I knew it would never happen. I had way too high hopes.

Now I'm 13. My school life has taken over my dance life, but that doesn't stop me from dancing around the house. My mom tells me I've got real talent, and that I'm better than most dancers my age. I'm incredibly flexible, and by age 5 I could do the splits.

My mom believes that I can fulfil my dreams and become a professional dancer. But I'm still not sure. I want to focus on my school work, and my mom understands that, but she thinks I can do so much, especially when I'm older. She thinks I can become a professional dancer; something I've always wanted to happen. She wants to help me make it happen.