A/N: This is the unedited version of The Last Dance. I am keeping it here for sentimental's sake. Some may find this better than the edited verdion while some may not. Hope you enjoy:)
She cringed her facial muscles tight as the sunlight hit her soft face when she looked up towards the clear azure blue cloudless sky. Gradually, her eyelashes retreated from their lowered position and images of the tall sliver building came to sight.
"My name is Annabelle," she muttered coolly under her breath.
Annabelle steadied herself on the first step of the stairs leading up to the glass automatic door of the magnificent sliver building. With one deep breath, her chest move up and out slowly, she placed one foot after the other and ascended up the stairs. Abruptly, she ran up the stairs to her troupe of dancers waving enthusiastically to her.
"Decemi!" The dancers already decked in their pastel pink ballerina tutus with flared out skirts made specially for this performance screamed. Annabelle's ears winced, strained from their high-pitched shrieks as she waved back, the gesture seemed a little dead.
"I, Annabelle, am going to win!" She reassured herself.
Too deep in her nervousness, Decemi's fingers unconsciously creeped up towards her blond hair, tangling it in the process. Excusing herself from the girls hanging onto her, Decemi treaded to the toilet, in search of a mirror to tie her hair up in a neat bun. Annabelle discreetly retrieved the play knife from a hidden corner of her tutu. She then reached her the sharp sliver knife in her bag and drew it across the delicate skin of her middle finger. Pricks of red instantaneously appeared on her clear pale, unblemished skin. Sastisfied, Annabelle tucked it safely within the pleated skirt of her tutu. Silently, she plucked all that she needed from every corner of the room and headed straight her the MacKenzie Ballerina Dance Theatre. She was all ready to win.
It was the day that would determine Decemi's future. Her life path had been marred so far, tainted by all the unnecessary, relentless disputes and agony. Her heart was broken repeatedly and ripped and severed by the callous hands of fate. Her life, before the accident, was over and irreparable, however, with this competition and new dance troupe, life was suddenly brimming with hope and reparable. The journey in front of her seemed to lead into the endless horizon.
Decemi was sixteen. Decemi was alone, without kin and much money for herself. Both Decemi and Annabelle had to win.
As she took her position on stage, surrounded by her pride of dancers, with the lights still switched off, Annabelle lowered her upper eyelids ever so slowly till her eyelashes collided. At that short instance, Decemi recalled, reminisced and remembered. Images of her parents dancing under the spotlight, dying in that fateful accident and the black masks of the unremorseful shooters traspised through her mind like a black and white film on rerun, rendering her back into her shell, reminding her that this competition was her life-changing moment, her only chance of leading a life not overshadowed with misery. The desire to win overwhelmed her soul.
"Annabelle... Annabelle... Please crease your tomfoolery..." the song rang out, reverberating around the silent theatre. Immediately, the Annabelle in Decemi rose to her full force. It was time for Annabelle to perform. Blood streamed to Annabelle's pumping heart vigourously as she was bringing the most important dance of her life till date to life.
At the sixth second after the song began playing, Decemi moved. She moved with elegance, agility and flexibility to portray her female character. Annabelle took over. As the song played on, it changed into one with a sinister undertone. Although it sounded the same as the one the dancers had practised to for months, there was a certain malevolent feel to it that the other dancers could not place a finger on. Only Annabelle felt comfortable applying her practised routine to it. Mischievous Annabelle was at work.
As Annabelle bent over in a sophisticated step, she reached for the hidden knife tucked under her tutu. A collective gasp was heard from the judges. However, all remained calm on stage. This was practised before.
Slowly, Annabelle danced to her first victim, in time to her rehearsed steps. She raised the knife and slammed it down towards the chest. Immediately, the dancer collapsed, her eyes widened in horror, a scream was midway in its progression before all life drained out of her as blood flowed freely out of the gaping hole of her chest. No one noticed the unnatural stillness of each fallen dancer as Annabelle continued stabbing the hearts of each and every dancer in her troupe. Not one dancer was spared.
As the tempo of the song quicken, Annabelle hastily wedged the blood stained knife before two pale dancers. Dancing around the blood-stained wooden panels, Annabelle, at the final beat of the music piece, threw her chest at the pointed edge of the knife. Pain pierced through her. The freezing metal tore through her heart, as the hot bright red essence of life fought to escape the cold clutches of the metal. And the last she heard was the confident claps of the judges. An exquisite smile tugged at her lips as she breathed her last.
Applause echoed in the theatre, vibrating the air molecules around. Slowly, the judges stood up one by one, giving the pride of dancers the standing ovation deserved.
Decemi died as Annabelle.
A/N: I think this is my best work but do you agree with me that it is a little confusing? I need to edit.:/ So, vote and comment!:)
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The Last Dance
Short StoryA dancer so passionate about her art, a dancer so stressed about the upcoming performance that could change here bleak future. Yet, something is wrong here...
