FicWad

One. Two. Three. Turn four. Five. Six. Seven. Turn eight. I counted in my head as I went through the steps to my dance routine. After the second turn I ended on the wrong foot and it messed me up for the next sequence of steps. I tried to get back to the beat but the music was moving too fast and I realized that I was already at least four eight counts behind. I groaned and stopped, turning away from the wall length mirror that mocked me. I walked to the stereo system and stopped the music before I leaned against the barre on the wall looking out the window. I watched as the rain fell quickly forming it's own dance. I had spent my entire Saturday here at the dance studio, trying to perfect my routine for auditions that were coming up. I had tried out for some smaller roles but this was kind of a big thing. I needed to take this risk. But this would probably be my last year dancing and I needed to prove to myself that I was good enough. I owed that to myself, didn't I?

I looked at the clock next to the stereo system and I sighed, I needed to get home soon and I still didn't get the routine down. Try outs were Monday. Why couldn't I just get the steps? It was simple pas de bourrée right leg pirouette then pas de bourrée left leg pirouette then land in third position to prepare for the kick. It was so simple! The preschoolers I taught could do this! I sighed, alright maybe they couldn't do it but I should be able to. I turned back to the stereo and turned on the music before jogging over to my spot in the middle of the room.

Once the music started I felt the rhythm inside me. Like my heart suddenly became the metronome to the song. I began the routine without even thinking about the steps I just felt the music. I grazed the floor as I moved from one step to the next, my arms moving in distinct patterns and movements that I choreographed. My legs became weightless as I jumped and kicked, I could feel the dance coming to life. Once the dreaded eight count came I mentally braced myself and began the sequence. One. Two. Three. Turn four. Five. Six. Seven. Turn eight. Shit! I fell to the ground, landing on my ass. I groaned again and got up immediately trying to get back into the dance trying to find my place in the music. Once again I failed and I couldn't get back on track. Fucking classical music all sounds the same. I walked back over to the stereo and turned it off taking out the CD which held my music. I guess I would spend my entire Sunday here, too.

I walked over to my dance bag and put the CD in it's case and sat on the floor in front of it taking off my ballet shoes. I put them into the huge bag that was filled with numerous dance shoes. I stood up and grabbed my worn out jeans, slipping them over my toned legs that were covered in pink tights. I buckled my pants over my black leotard, pulled my t-shirt over my head, and slipped into my converse sneakers. I bent down and reached back into my bag to grab a small make up case that I kept my jewelry in. I picked it up and took out my mothers silver necklace that had her name on it. I unclasped it putting around my neck and clasping it again. I tucked it inside my t-shirt and reached back into the make up case taking out my lip ring and walking over to the mirror to put it in. I wasn't supposed to wear it to dance classes and even though I was just practicing I still felt too weird leaving it in. Then after my lip ring was in I pulled the hair-tie out of my bun to let my long dark brown locks flow down past my shoulder. I looked in the mirror and ran my fingers through it before deciding I looked alright.

After I zipped up the case and put it back into my bag, I picked up the heavy bag and walked out of the studio. I waved and smiled to the receptionist that was there, probably extra late because I was there, before walking out the front door to the parking lot, walking to my car and began to drive away from the studio.

I remember when I first started coming to this dance studio, my family had just moved to LA from Florida for my dad's job. Isn't that always the case? The dad gets an offer for a better life and he runs with it? And there's a big fight within the family and angsty teenagers don't want to leave their friends so they end up hating their dad. I didn't care, really. Yeah I would miss my friends but it was something he needed to do. Why should I punish him? Anyway, I was thirteen years old when we moved and my mom immediately searched for a dance studio. I was good, I was really good and I needed to dance. It was just in my veins. So when we found this studio (with an extremely good reputation) they signed me up. They signed my younger sister up too but she only took a class or two.

The first few years we were living here it was good. I made some really great friends. The studio was great, the teachers were great, I was having fun at school and my parents were happy. Then when I turned seventeen my mother passed away. She was diagnosed with Leukemia and after a long fight she passed away. After her death I stopped dancing. I knew that she would be disappointed in me but there were some days when I didn't even remember how to walk, how was I going to dance? She always told me that I light up the stage, that I was brighter than any stage light she'd ever seen. She always told me just to dance, to shine. When she died she took my light. I was still having a hard time to find it again.

After the funeral the days just dragged together turning into months. I graduated from high school without my mother next to me and that was the day that I realized that she would want me to keep living. She would want me to push through and dance. So that summer I took classes and I signed up again for classes in the fall .I had missed dancing so much. I know that nine months doesn't sound like a long time but when dancing is everything you know, nine days is too long.

So now here I am and it's three years later and I'm preparing for my final performance. I told myself that If I didn't make it by the time I was 21 I would stop and I would just teach it. I was almost done with getting my teaching degree so during the days I could teach at the public school and at night I could teach dance to aspiring performers. I know that stopping was giving up my dream but I lost all my dreams long ago when my mother passed away. I was just doing this for her.

As Saturday turned into Sunday I was still practicing. I got up on Sunday morning, showered and went back to the studio to practice some more. I needed to give this everything. I stayed at the studio for hours only stopping for a short lunch break. After I finally got the routine perfect I went home.

When Monday came I was nervous. God! I was so nervous. I left early, dressed in my best dance attire. I arrived at the studio where the auditions were being held and I danced the best I ever could.

Or so I thought.

I didn't make it through the first line of call backs, I was sent home but I left my dreams at the studio.

I drove the familiar route to my apartment complex. I pulled into the parking lot, finding a spot before climbing out of the car. I grabbed my bag from the back seat, walking into the building, climbing the few flights of stairs to my apartment and I let myself in. I dropped my bag down next to the door before going to check my messages. I had three, one was from my father, the other from my crazy best friend, and the last from a friend that was also in the dance industry. I skipped over the first two before getting to the last message.

“Hey Jess it's Adam! I just saw a casting call for a young female dancer and the audition is right in your neighborhood. I emailed you information, it's a pretty big deal. Let me know how it goes. Talk to you soon. Bye!” The message ended the woman asked me if I wanted to erase it. Another audition? Should I do it or should stick with my plan? I thought for a moment before pressing 'delete' on the machine before walking into the bathroom to take a shower. I needed to move on from dance.

Once I was in the shower I slid down the wall sitting with my hands in my face, my knees to my chest. This was it. I failed my mother. She fought so hard to stay alive for me and I was giving up. There was nothing else I could do though. I gave myself a time line. I need to grow up sometime. As I sat under the constant stream of the water I started to cry. I started to full out sob. I couldn't handle this anymore. I needed my mom. I needed her to tell me to push through it, I needed her to make me shine again.

After what seemed like hours, I stepped out of the shower, of course after cleaning my hair and body. I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked into the bedroom getting changed into pajamas. After I was comfortable I turned on my laptop and went to make something to eat. I wasn't really hungry, though, I was just eating because I knew I hadn't all day. I made a quick salad and took it into my bedroom so I could go online. I sat down at my desk and clicked the web browser. Once It loaded I was greeted with my email inbox and the message from Adam was at the top of the list. I was tempted to just delete it. After a few minutes of deliberation I opened it and read the details. I swallowed after I finished the email and rested my head in my left hand staring at the screen. This really was too good to pass up.

I reached up my left hand and fingered the silver chain around my neck and closed my eyes. I took a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling of my bedroom.

“This is the last audition, mom. I swear. I can't do this anymore without you.” I bit my bottom lip and sat up straight.

On Wednesday I would be going to this audition but this was the last time. I would throw away my shoes after Wednesday.