"Vsyo (there)." Her mother beamed as she re-wedged the sparkling pin into her cement-hard hair. "Spasebo (thank you)," She winced as it scraped along her scalp. Her mother handed her a mirror happily, beaming at her handiwork.
Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, with tendrils of her auburn hair coerced into staying in their intricate pattern of waves with half of an industrial sized can of maximum hold hair spray. Glittering pins winked at her in the mirror, arranged along the lines of the wave design of her hair. Her thick arched brows raised slightly at her mother's masterpiece. Her brown eyes were rimmed with dark, sparkly dramatic makeup, winging out at the edges, the fake lashes and excessive eyeshadow rendering blinking a workout. The freckles which were usually sprinkled along her cheeks and nose were now invisible under the seemingly endless layers of primer, foundations, and powders. Her full lips were a pale nude-pink shade. A jewel encrusted triangle hung from each earlobe, and a swathe of gems gleamed at her throat like a bedazzled collar.
Sighing nervously she set the mirror down. Her favorite part of the day would be when she got to go home, wash off the fake tan, wipe off the mask of products on her face and free her scalp from its bobby pin prison. She glanced over at her little brother, Nikolai, well, not so little anymore as he was already taller than her. His dark brows were furrowed in frustration, as he attempted to safety pin their couple number to her partner's back. "Ouch, watch it!" Her partner yelped indignantly, green eyes wide. "If you didn't move so much, I wouldn't be stabbing you." Nikolai muttered, his brown eyes flashing. She chuckled at their antics.
Her partner was 25, 2 years older than she was, and 5 years older than her brother. Like her, Nikolai had a quiet demeanor, but he was more serious than she was. Her partner had to put up with the brunt of her lame jokes, and was always ready to laugh, making him easy to get along with. They had been competing together for about 2 years now.
With his number secured to his back, he pushed back a strand of his mousy brown hair into the gelled back mass. His eyes lit up with concern, he knew how anxious she got, even though they'd never gotten below a second place. "Hey, we'll do fine, like we always do." He crooned gently, rubbing his hands up and down her ice cold shoulders. She offered a weak smile. "That's more like it," he grinned. Holding out his hand he said, "We oughta go on deck now, they'll be calling us soon." She nodded slowly, putting her hand in his.
Her heart started to beat furiously as they approached the on deck area. Handfuls of girls stood in pockets and throngs of brightly colored dresses, like tropical birds. She nervously straightened her own dress, which was white, and draped suggestively to better accentuate her movements. The light caught the crystals on her dress as she shuffled nervously. "You'll be great, it's just like we practiced, okay?" He smiled warmly at her. Her hands felt clammy, "Thanks, Jim," she said shakily. "CALLING OUT HEAT 97, COUPLE NUMBERS 627, 895, 776, 609, 788, 844, AND 754!" She quickly gathered her composure, lifting up her head and straightening her shoulders. She pasted a gleaming smile on her face, and let herself be lead out onto the floor.
Jim selected a spot on the crowded floor, within view of the judges, with Jim's back facing the door, but with enough space so as to remain within their line of sight throughout all of their routines. They positioned themselves for the cha cha, she held his hand with her right, and placed the other out to the side, she had her right leg straight, with the left leg bent, ready to shoot out behind her once they started dancing. Jim squeezed her hand reassuringly, and she wiggled her eyebrows at him. As the music began she felt herself break free from her nervousness and burst to life, each step was filled with fire, with the love she had of dancing. She knew her mother and brother were watching somewhere in the dimly lit crowd surrounding the dance floor. She drew out every step until the last possible second, snapping into the next one like a fire cracker.
As she lock stepped her way into their original starting position, the doors behind Jim burst open, and a group of people in large coats strode in. This was odd as it was the middle of July, and around 87 degrees outside. Her heart sprang into her throat as ice cold fear gripped her body, her limbs felt stiff as she tried to keep going. They began to reach into their coats, she felt like she was watching it in slow motion. Jim noticed the change in her disposition. He mouthed, "Aurora, what's wro-" He was cut off by the sounds of gunshots. Aurora's eyes went wide and a strangled gasp escaped her lips as Jim's body suddenly lurched forward. No. The back of Jim's head was nothing but a bloody mass. No no no no no no. This can't be happening.
The screams around her seemed muffled. She scurried off into the dark crowds to try and find her family. People were pushing and shoving at each other, trying to escape the torrential downpour of bullets. She hissed as one grazed her side. Where is Nikolai? Where is Mama? Where is Nikolai? Where is- her heart was thundering against her ribs. Her mother's body was trampled, with a bullet hole spewing a constant stream of blood on the top right portion of her forehead. Her eyes were glassy, and her face contorted in fear.
"Aurora," A voice rasped from under one of the tables. Nikolai? She crawled under the edge of the table cloth, not noticing the blood seeping on to her dress or the pieces of glass tearing into it and into her hands and knees. "Nikolai!" She choked out, tears springing from her eyes, she gently moved his bullet riddled upper torso onto her lap, supporting his neck under her arm. She heard the people outside still walking around, looking for survivors. "Please, please I can pay you whatever you want!" A Russian accented voice pleaded. "Please just let me live! Plea-" A gunshot rang out, making Aurora flinch. Please don't let them find us, please don't let them find us, please don't let them find us. Her brother's ragged breathing drew her out of her mind. "Aurora," he paused to cough out some blood, "please just get out of here." Her tears leaked out in a steadier stream now, "No, I won't leave you," She choked out between sobs. She shakily brushed his dark curls off of his forehead, leaving behind a trail of blood. Her own side was searing with pain. "I'm not going," He paused to take a labored breath, "to make it." Tears made their from the corners of his eyes. "No, padeerzhey (hold on), Nikolai, pazhalousta (please), you'll be okay, you'll make it, okay? It'll be fine, you'll be fine." She whispered frantically. Please don't let them find us. "Nyet (no), I won't. I love you, Aurora.-" "I love you too, you'll be fine, Nik, please, you'll be fine," Her grip on him tightening. Please don't let them find us. "I'm really proud," his breathing was becoming more strained, less frequent, "of my hero, my big sister," he turned the corners of his mouth up, his eyes beginning to glaze over. "No Nik, no, Please, no." Her free hand fluttering uselessly over his injuries. He placed a cold, bloody hand on her face. She grabbed it and held it there, her vision completely blurred with tears. His eyes shut, and his hand slipped from her fingers, dropping to the carpeted floor. "Nik?" She choked out. "Nik, wake up..." The lump in her throat made it difficult to speak. Her body began shaking like a leaf. They're dead. They're all dead. They've killed them. They're all dead. She felt something inside her break. Then her hands started to vanish, then her arms, then her body.