A/N: a depressing little ficlette that i wrote a few weeks ago. i'm really upset that i can't dance anymore, and i really relate to Carly, even though she's not my fav. character...

Anyway, a Carly-Centric fic. enjoy

Carly walked up to the old building and sighed. The Dancer's Studio sign was hanging lopsided on the side of the once proud building. The paint of the old purple door was chipping and peeling, making Carly cringe. She used to call this building her second home, seeing as she spent so much time there. But now, it was falling apart.

Carly readjusted the bag on her shoulder and went up to the door. Of course, the lock was broken and it swung right open. Carly stepped inside and was grateful to the building's great insulation. Even though it was February, it was still warm inside.

She stepped into the lobby and saw it exactly as she remembered it to be. She could almost hear the voices of the students and parents milling about, waiting for class to start. Carly sighed contentedly and walked down a hallway to her right and into the dressing room.

Carly placed her bag down on the bench and started to undress. She pulled off her shirt and pants to reveal a nude leotard and pink tights underneath. Once Carly had the toes of her tights over her own toes, she opened her bag.

Inside the bag were some of Carly's favorite costumes. There was Hermia from A Mid-Summer Night's Dream; there was Flora from Dracula, and even the Sugar Plum Fairy from the Nutcracker. Carly decided to pull out Hermia, which was a blue satin dress with short, puffy sleeves. She pulled on the warm costume, remembering dressing back stage with all her fellow dancers, getting ready for the show.

Next, Carly pulled out her pointe shoes. She gazed sadly at the shoes, remembering a time when she could really dance and dance beautifully with them. But, those days were long gone. Carly slipped on the shoes and tied the ribbons, smiling when she felt the constricting feeling of the tight shoes. She then pulled out a bag of hair things and pulled her hair back into a ballet bun.

Carly stood and looked at herself in the mirror. Minus the makeup, she looked exactly like she did when she performed Hermia. The only real difference was the small, red triangle under her left eye. She sighed, grabbed her bag, and walked out into the lobby, and then into the actual studio.

Carly smiled as the familiar heat from the studio wrapped around her form. It was just as she remembered. She looked over to see that the wall that usually divided the studio from their "Black Box Theater" was open. She smiled when she saw the Black Box.

She set her bag down under the barre and started to do a few warm up exercises. She warmed up her body and got used to the feeling of being en pointe again. It brought Carly back to the days where she practiced in that studio, day in and day out, for her college auditions.

Once she felt she was sufficiently warmed up, Carly walked into the Black Box. Surprisingly, the electricity was still on, making it easy for Carly to turn on the stage lights. She then dug in her bag to find the CD she brought with her. She got it out, popped it in, and then ran onto the stage, ready to dance.

As soon as the music came on, the memories of performing came flooding back to Carly. She moved with the music, using the grace and elegance that she had thought her body had forgotten. It was so natural to her to close her eyes and dance the way she had been taught for over 13 years.

When the song ended, Carly felt a small emptiness inside. She quickly changed costumes and put on Flora instead. Flora was a white dress with a torn up skirt and bits of red all over. She was a Vampire, after all. Carly changed CDs and went into the back corner, ready to dance her favorite song.

As the slow music started, Carly danced her dance. It was something that she and another dancer choreographed for Dracula. It was a fun, almost upbeat song after the slow intro. It also had a lot of Modern steps in it, making it the only dance Carly had trouble with. She was a Ballet dancer, not a Modern dancer. But it was still fun. And at the end of the song, she was smiling the biggest smile in the world.

But, once again, she felt the emptiness when she stopped. Thus, she started to pull off Flora as she walked off the stage. That way, when she got to her bag, she immediately pulled out the pink tutu and pulled it on. Then, she popped in the Nutcracker CD and waited on stage.

The Sugar Plum Fairy was always Carly's favorite part. She felt beautiful when she walked out on stage in her tutu and tiara. She felt accomplished when she finished the dance without messing up once. It was so thrilling to be dancing her favorite dance in her favorite studio.

However, halfway through the song, Carly's right ankle gave out on her. She collapsed on the ground without a sound. She looked at her ankle and sighed.

Carly had everything going for her in high school. She had ballet companies fighting over her. She was going to be famous. However, when she was hit by a car just before graduation, all her hopes had been dashed. Her ankle had gotten a large gash in it that crippled her ability to dance. Her ankle was so weak, in fact that she could barely walk on it at first. Even through physical therapy, the strength she once had would never return to her.

She had been sobbing when the doctors told her she would never be able to dance again. She saw her life crumbling before her eyes. Everything that she had built up, everything that she had worked for was disintegrating.

So, when the time for college came around, Carly needed to rely on her fall back. She had amazing writing skills, so she went into college for journalism. She thought that if she was unable to dance on the stage, she would be able to write about other people dancing.

But even that proved too difficult. She could end up crying. It was just a painful reminder of what she lost. So she turned to dueling, the one thing that could take her mind off dance.

But lying on the floor of her beloved studio in her tutu was just too much. Carly ended up sobbing. The CD played until the end and Carly just sat there. When she heard nothing more, she stood up. The pain in her ankle subsided enough for her to go over to her bag and change. She pulled on her jeans and t-shirt again and put all her costumes gently back into the bag.

Her doctors were right. She would never be able to dance again. She would never be able to do a show if her ankle gave out after not even ten minutes of dancing.

Carly left the studio, having turned off all the lights and put everything back the way it was. As she walked up the road, she turned back to take one last look at the studio.

"Goodbye," Carly said simply before turning her back and leaving the studio for the last time.

As Carly walked back to her house, she felt the emptiness inside her. Getting to dance again, even if only for a short time, was the best thing for her. But now that she was done, she felt hallow. Her life had been taken from her in that accident oh so many years ago.

"Carly, there you are!" Carly jumped and turned to see Jack driving up in his convertible. He leaned out of the side and stopped the car beside Carly. "I've been trying to call you all day. What happened?"

"Oh, nothing," Carly said, faking a smile. "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, something is wrong," Jack said with a chuckle. "It's Valentine's Day and I couldn't find my girlfriend anywhere."

"That's such a shame," Carly said with a chuckle of her own.

"Hop in," Jack said, patting the seat next to him. "You can toss your bag in the backseat."

"Alright," Carly said, gently placing her bag down before hopping into the passenger's seat.

Jack drove off in the direction that Carly came from. As she passed the studio, Carly felt herself get chocked up.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked, glancing at Carly as they passed the studio.

"Nothing," Carly said calmly, shaking her head. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright," Jack said, turning his attention back to the road.

Contrary to popular belief, Jack was not dumb. He had seen Carly packing her costumes the night before. He had done some digging and found out that she had been a star Ballerina. But what he couldn't find is what stopped her. But he knew that, given time, Carly would tell him.

She just needed her wounds to heal first.

yeah, so...

i found out that i can no longer dance.

it was heart breaking.

so, since i kind of identify with Carly... like a lot, i wrote this little thing.

only diff, i don't want to be a ballerina when i grow up.