Letter 16
Dear Mrs. Miller,
I wish you were here. I miss you more than anything. I remember when I was little, when you visited the studio often. Abby would sometimes drive you to ALDC, and you would just sit on a chair, grinning while you watched us dance.
I remember one them when I was about 6, we all gathered around your chair as you told us stories.
"I used to be just like you, ya know?" You smiled. "I used to be a dancer. I don't think I was as good as you when I was your age, but I still danced." We all giggled. "Hard to imagine me as a dancer, I know." You laughed too.
You told us stories about times when you owned the studio, Reign Dance Productions, and when Abby used to dance. It was really fun, and I loved hearing stories about when you were apart of the Cabaret. You told us stories about going backstage to Broadway shows and all your students that went on to be famous. Ever since then, I realized I had to take dance more seriously if I wanted to make it big.
I began practicing everything we did in class until it was perfect, wanting to be famous more than anything.
I remember one time when you watched my first competition solo rehearsal. I was practicing my solo, trying to make every move precise and use my facials. Then you said, "Watch out for this little girl. She'll be big one day."
When you came to competitions, I always felt happy. Even if one of us would forget a step, or we placed low, you would stay be happy for us and tell us we did amazing. You would hug me while I cried. You told me I was amazing even when I knew I sucked so badly that people probably covered their eyes it was so bad.
Unlike Ms. Abby, you realized that everybody makes mistakes and that we're all human. You never said that stupid phrase, "Second is the first to lose." No matter what the judges thought, you told us the truth. Sometimes there's someone better, and you realized that, but you still were competitive.
The day Ms. Abby told us you weren't going to get better I broke down. My favorite person in the entire world was going to die, and we all knew it. That week the only time we saw Ms. Abby she was either crying or on the phone with a doctor or family member, talking about you. I don't think I've ever seen her so sad or concerned, unless you count when Broadway Baby died.
The whole studio cried the day you died. We tried to do classes, but it was hard. Do you know how hard it is for a person to just suddenly disappear? One day you were here, and the next day you were gone. Abby didn't come to the studio for two weeks, and I just felt like quitting. I didn't want to dance. I felt empty and hurt.
I miss you so badly. It's been 5 years since you died, and I just want to see you again.
So today I will be joining you. We will re-unite once again. I know if you were here I could talk to you about it, because we could tell you anything without you telling anybody else. I know you would want to try, and tell me it gets better, but I'm just so done with everyone treating me badly. Abby always tells me I've lost my focus and passion, and I don't feel that spark anymore when I dance. Everybody at school constantly calls me fat and stupid, comparing me to perfect little Mackenzie, who is skinny and has amazing grades and is gorgeous. Mom and Greg always whisper about me. Everybody thinks I'm just some stupid depressed freak, and I just miss you and Brooke more than anything in the world.
Nobody can stop me. What's done is done, and as Taylor Swift said, "Bandaids don't fix bullet holes." The words have been said. I'm just done.
Love,
Maddie.
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This was the last letter. ): But there will be an epilogue and a sequel. (:
Anyways, vote and comment! This has been my favorite story to write, and I'm just amazed at how many people have read, voted, and commented. Thanks for all the love!
-Abby❤️
