My name is Sara. Dancing is in my blood. Singing is not. Acting was basically my life. I dropped out of school in February. Haha, no I'm not a dropout. Dad would never allow it. I moved and was HOMESCHOOLED, and not on the things you would expect. Sure I was taught basic science, math and English but my dad had other ideas for me. He was exceptionally happy when he discovered I had inherited my mother's dance skills and his skills in acting. He signed me up for a dance class every night from 2:45 (this was when I was still in school and mind you school got out at 2:30) to 11:45. Wednesday was my break from dance that was when he took me to his theatre where I had to learn lines and play younger kids roles in the shows. Then on Saturday and Sunday we would go to a concert and watch the dancer's movements. If there was no concert, I was back to either the dance studio or the theatre. When I turned fourteen, three new stars had already arrived, close to my age too. That's how dad got his brilliant idea for me – to be a star.
He dropped me out of school and I trained harder. From 4:00 AM to 2:00 PM I was dancing and then the rest of the day to 1:00 AM I was in the theatre. It was even worse when dad found out I could sing. No one in my family had singing talent at all so it was a surprise for all. I quit dance and stopped going to the theatre with dad. He found a theatre group that was no joke. They acted, dance and sang from 7:00 in the morning to 11:00 at night. They were called the V group. I always thought it stood for vultures. The entire group was hungry, hungry for fame. No one cared about anything else. The V group allowed no one of a different look than they wanted. It was always skinny, flat or thin. It annoyed me to Hades. My best friend was overweight and she tried to come watch me, she was kicked out to the street. I hated the vultures. I hated my dad. I hated my life.
You must be wondering why he trained me so hard. The thing was, he NEVER watched. So he always assumed I was bad and needed more work. Don't be mad at him. My mother was sick and getting sicker every day. Dad told me it would help if I trained harder. I think he just wanted me to never know how sick my mum was getting. My mum died by the way. About a month after I joined the vultures. Dad kept working me harder and harder till I was near breaking point. I should have gone to the hospital from over exhaustion. The only way I could get out of class was faking sick. Acting helped me there. I faked sick at least once every two months.
Then, finally, the breaking point. Dad and I had an argument. I found out he had been smoking and I hated smokers with a passion. So I yelled at him and he yelled at me. Finally I left and went to practice. In practice the phone rang and nobody ever answers the phone. No matter what. If they miss something they might not get to be famous. I knew dad would be mad at me if I answered the phone so I ignored it with the rest. When I got home, I knew what the phone call was about. Two big red fire trucks stood in front of my house. The place was burned down. I walked through the crowd of people gathered, but I never went near the house. If anyone recognized me it was off to an orphanage or a foster home. I couldn't go. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was stupid, but I ran. I ran so far and long. I sat and finally rested, falling asleep on a bench. When I woke up it was probably near 3:00 AM and it took me a while to comprehend where I was and what had happened. Then it finally hit me. My dad was dead. My mum was dead. My life was going to change dramatically, and not with the kind of drama I was used to.
I sat up and looked at my dance bag that I had laid under my head. I sat up and felt something in my hand. I quickly whipped my head towards my hands. In one was a wad of cash, just shoved there. In the other was a rope and attached to that rope, was a monkey. Not a big one at all. It was kind of small and could probably fit on my shoulders. The monkey looked at me with small black eyes and did a kind of smile. I saw something around its neck and paper. A letter, perhaps? I reached around the rope and tugged the paper free from the monkey which then proceeded to climb up my arm and onto my shoulder. I laughed and opened the folded paper.
Hello,
My name is Jacklyn. I live with my parents and my monkey, Bobo. He was named by my little sister. Well recently my sister has died and my parents are getting crazy messed up. I think you know what I mean. Anyways you didn't look homeless. I would love to offer you a home and food, because you looked lost and I think you've recently lost someone too. But as I told you, my parents are wacked up. I gave you Bobo and in your hand is around five hundred dollars. You're wondering why I would give you this, yes? Well my parents might have killed Bobo and I stole the money from my parents. Please keep it. You don't even know who I am and you'll probably never find me. Please keep and take care of Bobo. He has a collar so you won't get in trouble with the police.
Thank you!
I folded up the letter and put it into my pocket. I turned my head to the side to look at Bobo. "Hey, I'm Sara. Looks like we're going to be traveling together huh?" He nodded his head and continued to grin. "Well we better get going so the police don't find me."
Bobo and I spent the next two months just walking around and traveling places state by state. We stayed away from the places that snowed. Currently we were in New York though. It was summer, so winter was over. We would be gone by two weeks into autumn anyway. Everywhere we went I tried to get more money by doing street dancing, betting up to three hundred dollars with my opponent. I always won. Those days of hard work really paid off.
It was actually in New York when my dad got what he wanted. Even if he couldn't see it. I wasn't famous yet, but I met some stars that really helped me. In so many ways.