The Last Dance

Shadow blanketed on her as she stood in front of the tall building.

"My name is Annabelle," she muttered to herself.

Slowly, Annabelle took a deep breath and steadied herself before placing one foot after the other, proceeding to ascending the steps.

"Decemi!" The dancers decked in their pastel pink ballerina tutus shrieked as the spotted her.  Annabelle's ears winced as she waved back, the gesture impuissant.

"I am going to win!" She murmured assuredly as she approached them.

Deep in her nervousness, Decemi's fingers creeped up towards her blond hair, messing it in the process.  In need of a mirror to neaten her hair, Decemi excused herself from the screaming girls.  Once in the toilet, away from any prying eyes, Annabelle discreetly retrieved and threw the play knife from a hidden corner of her tutu into the nearest dustbin.  She then reached for the sharp sliver knife in her bag and lightly drew it across the skin of her middle finger.  Drops of red blood instantaneously surfaced, contrasting with her pale skin.  Satisfied, Annabelle tucked it safely within the hidden corners of her pleated tutu.  With that accomplished, she headed straight for the MacKenzie Ballerina Dance Theatre, all ready to win.

This was the day that would determine Decemi's future. Her life path had been marred so far.  It had been tainted by relentless agony and her heart had been ripped and torn repeatedly by the callous hands of fate.  However, with the prospect of earning a scholarship to a renowned ballet school, life was suddenly brimming with hope.

Decemi was sixteen. Decemi was alone, without kin and much money.  Decemi and Annabelle had to win.

Annabelle took her position on stage, surrounded by her pride of dancers with the lights dimmed, she lowered her upper eyelids ever so slowly till her eyelashes collided.  During 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 shadowed 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. Blood pumped through Annabelle's heart as she brought the most important dance oh her existence to life.

She moved with elegance, agility and flexibility to portray her female character on a blood-brimmed rampage.  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 every dancer in her troupe. Not one dancer was spared.

As the tempo of the song quicken, Annabelle hastily wedged the blood stained knife between 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.

Applause echoed in the theatre as the judges rose with enthusiasm, giving the pride of dancers the deserved standing ovation.

The  sounds of the judges' claps was the last she heard.  An exquisite smile tugged at her lips as she breathed her last

Decemi died as Annabelle.