Bright, blinding lights and the sound of people cheering. The soft hum of the piano as the opening queue played to the dancer’s routine. As the pointe shoes dug into her swollen, over-practiced feet, anticipation was rife within her. millions of pairs of eyes seemed to bore into her soul as she delicately pranced into the abyss that was the stage.
As the violin began to play, her cue to start was immanent. The routine almost felt like muscle memory. Somehow she felt her pointe shoes slide across the stage and her arms float gracefully, and all of a sudden she had began to dance.
Enthralment. That is all she could describe it as. The air brushing gently against her skin was a sensation only the most fortunate people of the world could feel, which filled the ballerina’s heart with pure ecstasy, causing her to increase the velocity of her gracefully flailing limbs, slowly but surely. The ballerina’s body picked up speed, as did the dramatic hum of the orchestra serenading her dancing. She fluttered her eyelids down and shut herself off from the visual distractions, enabling her sixth sense to take over, swayed by the ambrosial sound of the instruments. Turn after turn, pirouette after pirouette, and the young woman was practically levitating in the air. Her jumps steadily got higher, more forceful, harnessing every part of the ballerina – the physical (her literal mass), and the emotional (her feelings and thoughts, consistently channelled into an unconscious stream of movement.
It was a beautiful thing. Until it wasn’t.
It is said that some people view the world as black and white. Good and bad. Passion and bore. Dancing, and staticity. But these people do not comprehend that there is a duality in all aspects of life, and that the best things can hold painful truths and realities within them. However, this fact cannot be understood until an experience is made.
As the ballerina took her final leap through the air, she opened her eyes and immediately saw the hundreds of people mesmerised by her movements. Their eyes, boring into her soul once again, seemed to excite her, as she felt the scrutiny of her passion running through the audience’s brains. The uncomfortable feeling could have lasted forever, as the ballerina basked in the attention from her onlookers. But as gravity has it, no moment truly lasts forever.
A snap of her bones. A tear in her muscle. Searing, blinding pain enveloping her ankle, eyes, head… her whole body was writhing with agony as she fell from what seemed like the top of the world. Suddenly, the onlooking eyes on her felt unnerving, embarrassing, and unsettling. She felt a shrill scream emerge from her throat as reality settled in… and as she peered down to look at the source of the agony, all she saw was her ankle. However, this ankle was grossly misshaped, with a horrifyingly ivory tinted stick protruding from her skin.
It was her bone, and from here, the ballerina’s scream grew shriller, deeper, and panic stricken, as she realised her passion may not be tangible anymore……