Everything faded, my limbs became numb and my mascara trailed down my pale face.
"The plane crashed on the way here..." why? Why now? It feels as if God was playing a cruel joke on me. I couldn't bear listening to the rest of the sentence. She promised me. She promised me she would come, why did she promise me.
But it was too late, the show must go on, before I knew it, the scarlet velvet curtain pulled open and I'm all alone, in the middle of the brightly lit stage. Soon, the orchestra below me started to play, swallowing the pain, I started to dance. Heads up, pirouette, jump, I couldn't stop thinking about her, memories flooded in my head, I can still remember that silver and pale blue ballet tutu behind the windows, she promised me that she would buy me that dress when I become a world famous ballerina. Now here I am, dancing in that exact dress.
I knew she wouldn't see me now, but I still imagined her sitting in one of those plush velvet seats. Tears filled my eyes, I couldn't control my limbs. I wanted to express my feelings to the world. I forgot about my routine, I flailed and fell, did one pirouette after another. In my mind, the words echoed in my head,
"The plane crashed on the way here..." More and more tears trailed down my swollen cheeks.
As the orchestra hit the last note, I collapsed on the waxed floor. I was too tired to cry anymore. Sitting there, in the centre of the vast polished stage, everyone was silent, stunned. Then suddenly everyone stood up, clapping and cheering. Bouquets of roses filled the stage. Warmth and happiness comforted my wounded heart, but I didn't move, I watched the scarlet velvet curtains pulled together in front of me.
Midnight. Snow sprinkled across the slender pathway as I passed bakeries and bookstores, cafe after cafe. It was dark except for the dim street lights. But in front of me, behind the rows of trees, rivers and stores, the glow of Palais Garnier illuminated the darkness.
I can still remember how mother would bring me there every Sunday afternoon for my ballet lesson. Mother said she loved seeing me dance.
I looked up, mellow snowflakes landed on my pinched shoulders. Then I saw a ray of light. It was a shooting star. I closed my eyes and made I wish. When I opened my eyes, the shooting star was gone, but millions of stars like the sequins on my tutu, sparkled in the cold winter night...
This is one of my favourite piece of one-shot, let me know what you think! -Heidi :)