I hate hospitals. The smell, the shiny white floors, the too-bright lighting, people dressed in funny gowns that don't quite cover enough of anything. But mostly I hate the way they make me feel... insignificant, unimportant, helpless. Like, no matter how hard I try, I can't change the way things are. No matter how much I want things to be different, they aren't. It reminds me that I'm not as strong as I pretend to be, that compared to the universe, I'm a small speck of dust in the scheme of things.

I couldn't save her, my mom. Being here is a constant reminder of that. She's gone and I couldn't do anything to protect her from her fate. When she got sick, it was as if all the air in my lungs had been slammed out of me. I couldn't breathe and part of me didn't want to. Not her! Not the only person who still believed in me; that I could be better, that I could change! She was beautiful! Perfect! She had so much faith in me and all I'd ever given her was grief! Causing trouble, getting into fights, being crap in school, not taking life seriously. Wasting the time I had with her; thinking I'd have plenty of time to make up for all the stupid stuff I did. Boy was I wrong.

The bitterness of my mistakes adds to my distress as I sit in my chair, Kat's hand clenched in mine, her head on my shoulder. A clock ticks somewhere on the wall, but all I can focus on is the deafening silence of the waiting room, my coffee cooling slowly in my hand. I glance over to the other side of the room where Ben and Grace are sitting silently next to each other. Ben looks up and catches my stare, nods and then looks away, his attention returning to Grace, who looks lost and small, two things I never imagined her to be. She is fearless, or so I thought. I guess we all have our secrets. It's funny that no matter how hard we try to hide our true selves, eventually it all comes out, usually at the most inconvenient times.

I feel numb, just like before, only this time it isn't my mom who I am worrying about. It is her. The only person. The one person besides my mom who I truly connected with, who I truly love. Tara.

As I sit here, powerless in my own right, she is somewhere in this place and I can't get to her. Can't make it right. Can't fix her. She is broken and I know that part of it, if not most of it, is my fault. I've pushed her away more times than I could count; this year and last year. When she wanted me to find my dad, I knew she was right. I couldn't change the past but I had wanted to see him, and she knew it. How she knew I have no idea, because I was doing my best to hold it all in, to keep everyone from knowing how much it hurt to be so alone in the world. But I guess it didn't work. She wasn't fooled at all and it made me angry; that she could see through me so easily, see everything that I was trying so hard to hide, that I did the only thing I knew how to do... I rejected her, crushed her spirit, told her I didn't need her, didn't want her, when in reality, she was the one person I actually did need. Do need. If only I had stayed with her. If only I had had the courage to tell her that I was scared... that I might end up just like him.

My dad had never been there. At least not as far as I can remember. My mom struggled to put food on the table. She worked so hard for my brother and me and he couldn't have cared less. At least that's what I had thought. Turns out he was scared too. So scared that you leave just to save yourself any possibility of losing the ones you care about most. The people who you love more than anything else in the world. That's how I felt when I was with Tara. Like at any moment, she might be ripped from my grasp and the possibility of that was more painful than I care to admit. She only wanted what was best for me, for me to be happy, to know my dad, or at least give him another chance.

But the thing is, I'm not like her. Good and kind and forgiving. Quite the opposite actually. I didn't have the wholesome up-bringing that she had. Even though I loved my mom and I knew she loved my brother and me, it wasn't the same. It wasn't what Tara had. What I had wanted. Not that it was Tara's fault, although I treated it that way. I channeled all my pain and anger and jealousy toward her and let it explode unrelenting, until she had no other choice but to leave.

When she apologized for trying to find my dad that day in the studio last year, after my pathetic attempt to get back together with her in the club the night before, I knew I couldn't risk hurting her again. We had been through so much. She was already in too deep, already knew too much about me, and I knew if we got back together, she wouldn't stop trying to help me. Who was I to deserve such attention? Who was I to deserve happiness? A life where I actually had the potential to succeed? To change and be better? I wasn't like everyone else. I wasn't a shiny new toy on a shelf. I was damaged, broken, undeserving.

Even now as I sit here, hoping for news, or dreading it – I'm not quite sure which – I can't help feeling worthless. Suddenly, Jayden's words from a few weeks ago come into my head.

"You're kind of hard on yourself dude."

Even at his young age, he is wiser and more together than I am! I fight back a laugh at this revelation, not wanting to break the silence of the waiting room. It isn't the time or place to laugh, not with the reason we are all here.

Before I can stop them, thoughts of Tara from last night slam back into my head. I was doing such a good job of distracting myself and avoiding my memories of the incident, that I am not ready for the gut punch I feel as they all come flooding back…

Watching her dance so beautifully, like the siren she was portraying. Gliding effortlessly across the stage, as if her feet weren't even touching the ground. Using her easy grace to her advantage. I was hooked and she was reeling me in slowly, deeper and deeper underwater, my gaze locked on her, commanding my attention with every step. It was like we were the only two people in the theater and she was calling me back to her, calling me home. I couldn't take my eyes off her, and I didn't want to. She was mesmerizing.

And that's when it all fell apart. That's when the spell was broken and before I knew what was happening, she was on her back, her sobs echoing through the theater. After all her hard work, all her training and fighting through injuries, her positivity and caring, it was over. Just like that.

Regaining some clarity, we all ran to her; Kat taking her hand, me holding her head, trying to reassure her by gently stroking her face with my hands. Abigail and Ollie looking afraid for their friend, and Ben with his arms around a hysterical Grace. Hearing Tara's voice breaking through her tears...

"I can't feel my legs, I can't feel my legs!" It was as if time had stopped.

Her words were like ice in my chest. They echoed over and over in my head, filling me with dread. All I could think was, what if she could never dance again? What if she could never walk again? After everything she had overcome... not being allowed to dance on pointe, all of Abigail's attempts to sabotage her, Miss Raine's harsh treatment, Saskia breaking her back, Grace alienating her from her friends in a desperate attempt to gain some kind of self-worth, me and the way I carelessly tossed her aside after promising to always be there for her. After all that, to have her dream snatched away by a bead, a stupid little bead.

It wasn't fair! It wasn't fair! This sweet and gentle person had only ever wanted to be a dancer and this is how that dream repaid her? By dashing every shred of hope she had of getting into the company like this? She didn't even get to finish her solo! It was as if fate had turned its back on her... just like it had on my mom.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of high heels marching purposefully into the room. I don't need to look up to know who they belong to. Sure enough, as I lift my head, Miss Raine stands before us. She is trying hard to hide it, but I can see the chinks in her armor. She isn't as unaffected as she pretends to be. We all rush towards her, hoping for good news.

Unfortunately, there is none. The doctor needs to perform surgery. Tara's back is broken and there is a chance she can never walk again, let alone dance. The news hits me like a ton of bricks. Growing up skateboarding, surfing and even dancing, I guess you get used to a certain level of pain. That pain has nothing on what I am feeling right now. It takes all the strength I have to not crumble to the floor and roll myself into a ball. But everyone else is standing still so I will myself to do the same, even when all I want to do is run to her, to comfort her, tell her it's going to be alright. I want to hold her in my arms and bury my head in her hair that smells so good. She always smells so good.

Again, my attention is brought back to Miss Raine when she says we should all head back to the boarding house to get some rest and prepare for our interviews tomorrow. Interviews? Who can think about that now when Tara is going to have surgery? Not me! I am staying! I'm not leaving and no one can make me! I think defiantly. But as I catch Miss Raine's eye, I can tell it's not a suggestion but a command, and that whether I like it or not, I am going. She has her "don't you dare argue with me" face on and I swear it is just for me, like she is expecting me to put up a fight. I want to, boy do I want to, but I am just too tired, too in shock to protest.

In the end, Kat says she will stay since she is only in second year and with as much energy as we can muster, we all say goodnight and silently leave the hospital.