Dancing in the Dark

1. Let Me Tell You A Story

Life is mysterious, how miracles can happen yet something so simple can fail.

I never knew what I truly wanted, not until I was told the news that day. I always dreamed being on stage, dancing forever, till my knees wilted away and my hips no longer turn.

But the minute I heard from his mouth the truth, I opened a mental door and without a second thought, I kissed those dreams goodbye.

I knew what it meant for me. Most dancers don't bounce back after this and I accepted that.

This was now my dream. But before I could make another thought about my new future, everything changed for the worse.

You see, I feel in love and hard. It's the best feeling in the world, a drug my own brain made me, euphoria.

But before I get there, let me start at the beginning....

February 2005
Being six usually entails babies and dolls, toys other girls my age play with. But not I, no.

I danced. I danced everyday after school. I wore my cream Pointe shoes for two hours a day, practising.

I loved ballet. I thought it to be majestic. Something regal about it. My mumma took me to every class, she would sit with the other parents and chat with them while she knitted to spend her time.

And I danced. I practised. I did everything I was told. I did it in rhythm. When I fell, I got up, more determined to try again.

My dance teacher thought I was a natural. A talented little girl and I beamed widely at that. At her.

After every dance lesson, mumma would buy me an ice cream cone for a reward of my efforts.

But I was six and everything slightly blurry as I look back on to my memories. I mainly remember me spinning and dancing, at school, the dance academy and at home. I remember the comfort of the car ride with my mumma after every dance lesson. How the music played, the way she sung to it, her fingers tapping on the steering wheel as she constantly smiled. I remember the drive perfectly. Each left and right turn.

What I also remember is that one day, mumma didn't stay at practice. She dropped me off and said she will be back in two hours.

I nodded at her, holding my water bottle before going inside.

Little did I know, that was the last time I saw my mumma alive.

Dancing had finished and all the other kids were leaving. How Bethany's mum looked around in concern at me, how my teacher, Clara sat with me.

"Mum is never late." I said in a small voice. I don't know why I said that in particular. It was the first time she ever dropped me off and left me here. But I believed her when she said she will be back in two hours.

But I never saw her again. I never got the chance to say that I love her or tell her how beautiful she is or she was the best mumma in the world.

That I will never get to hear her voice ever again. How I won't see her smiles, or listen to her sing. How she hugs me and tucks me in to bed will become a distant memory.