I watched

I watched with fascination as the moving work of art raised her hand and arched her back. The slender form stood up straight, and in a proud manner she raised her head and right hand, she did a little twirl. In this solitary stage there was her and only her. The theatre was not as packed as it was early this evening. Nobody would see her. No one can tell her what to do or what to think. She felt a sense of security and freedom. Something she hasn't felt in a long time. Dancing away without a care in the world. Even though she knows how naive she sounded and how absurd she was to even think of such a wondrous thing. She spent all her money in prayer, asking for such bliss. She expressed all of her inner feelings, and danced away all her hidden emotions, feeling assured that no one else was watching.

Fortunately for me, she had not seen me staring from outside of the frosty window. Occasionally, I would move back, afraid that the satin curtains were not able to hide my presence. Sadly, if God answered my prayers as to let me see you dance, the frost from the window would make it almost impossible for me to watch as the weather gets worse by the minute. Still, I remained stubborn and persisted. My feet rooted on the spot. I looked down and made a mental note to remove all signs of my presence, in this case my shoeprints. Otherwise, I may never see her again.

I watched with great intensity, my swollen hands gripping onto the window sill. Following her movements I noticed. She seemed to be coming closer toward my direction. I saw her face.

Her eyes watered. Feelings of resentment and utter disappointment towards her family. A tear. Feelings of hurt and pain. Another tear. Her new hobby was crying and maybe perhaps dreaming of suicide. She needs time to understand everything. What's lost and what's forever gone. They were here, they were all here, but where? Her feet tapped the oak floors lightly, brushing her fingers slightly on her toes she got back up and seemingly danced round the stage. In attempt to wipe away her tears she wiped away her fresh tears and continued her graceful movements. A sinister voice at the back of head bothered her, urging her to stop her foolish actions, grab something sharp and feel the thrill of ultimate bliss .Dancing gets you no where.

Although her flawless actions stuns me completely I suddenly felt a sense of remorse. She was making my feel sad. Her movements had a momentum. Slow, fast, slow, fast, slow…… They were full of unhappiness. She was giving me a heartache. Making me feel poignant. Never before have I seen something so… how should I say this…magical? She made sadness seem magical. Or maybe her movements was magical, either way it looked magnificent. She left me speechless. A human body was never portrayed so beautifully before. Unlike any other. Simply astounding.

Her mind troubled with endless problems and with the annoying voice in her head it was causing her to break. What she needs more than anything is words of comfort. Words of love. She thought of how she was abandoned, left alone in the streets without anything to eat and how she stole bread from the baker down kenning ton avenue every morning. How he punished her after he found out what she had done. Called her a filthy brat, a useless wretch. Her weary soul faltering, silently killing her inside. The rich uptown children mocking her appearances and scowled at her simple choice of clothing. She was not wise but ever virtuous. Her actions became quick and violent. Her arms spreading in every direction, her body spinning uncontrollably. She shut the eyes, holding back her tears in vain, not caring if she falls of the stage Suddenly, she stops.

I don't believe it, she actually made me cry. A girl, an ordinary, a simple minded, a wonderful, an extraordinary female touched my heart. With a simple wave of her hand, she unlocked the depths of my heart. Is she famous? Has the world heard of her? I highly doubt. One could hardly catch a glimpse of her, much know her name. She preferred to remain invisible to the world. She was a nobody, a downtown princess, not noticed but despised. Despised by many but surely not me. I was her only admire. Hopefully if I may be so bold to say, I may be her only friend.

What am I doing? How silly I must have been. Finally the bittersweet words had taken a toll on her. She was confused. She had forgotten. Why am I here? You wanted to dance. Who are you? What do you want? I am your saviour. LIAR! Taking a few steps back, she started to dance again. Her thoughts concentrating on her footsteps rather than the menacing voice. A step. The horrid voice was getting louder. Another step. It's ringing in her head. She wanted nothing more but to put an end to all this nonsense. Dancing. I could soar away in my fantasies and rest upon the soft clouds. The only time I feel free of the cage you wicked people call home. Home?

The place the orphans think about and the place where business men return to after a tired day from work? Where they would share a meal with their wife and children? Home? The new year? Easter? Christmas? Joyous occasions where families and neighbours spend their time together and dismiss their daily duties. I have heard of them. But never have I once experienced such content and happiness. Thank the Lord for getting me to where I am today. I don't need anything more.

The frost was beginning to bite into my already numbed hands. I can hardly move my fingers. A feather like touch onto the crack on the window and I wince from the sharp pain. She is inside. She is warm. However I stayed outside. I could have froze had I remained there any longer. My chapped lips curved into a small smile. At least she has one thing to be happy about. Her hands were not cold and her ears were not deafened by the increasingly loud humming sound.

Her slim legs kicked off the ground in a professional manner. Having done this several times she did not hurt her forehead. It was working. The demon made no more sound. Her spirits were invariably lifted and her grim turned into a childish grin. She laughed. It was gone. It cannot bother her! Only for a day… it'll be back tomorrow morning when the sun lights up your room, or maybe in your dreams tonight. With that terrible thought in her mind, she succumbed to her fate. That thing… whatever that is would never leave her. Unless…

What a perfect stance! What God given talent this young child possesses!

I looked away guiltily, she needed to be loved, she needed sweet nothings whispered into her ears before she falls asleep and I couldn't give it to her. I felt sorry for that girl and for myself. Is that a grin? Oh Lord I can faint! Then a laugh. She was happy and so was I. She evoked feelings of distress before and now she was overjoyed. After waiting amongst these blistering winds did I see such a marvelous sight. My woolen scarf was carried away by the wind but I paid no heed, my eyes fully focused on her. Enchanting her.

I have to stop. She told herself. Before she hurts herself. If she moved any further, her feet might bleed. What if it comes back? Dancing is the only way my mind would stay preoccupied. She moved back upstage, her movements more serene now. Her fingers were curled like an Indian dancer. Her feet tip-toed like a great ballerina. She was a natural. Being as stubborn as a mule she proceeded on with little caution. Her worn out body was about to collapse .Fatigue really does rear an ugly head. Her mind corrupted and her heart in despair. With another step, she fell.

I resisted the urge to pry open the windows and help her. To wrap my arms around her tightly and cradle her broken form. To promise her that I'll never let anything happen to her and that everything is going to be alright. I'll be her protector, her guardian angel. What I would give to watch her eyes lit up in happiness and to be able to hold her everytime she cries. I know love. I was loved once and I would show her love. What it means to have somebody walking with you in this journey we call life. She would never have to feel disconsolate or weep again. If she were to cry, they'd be only tears of joy. I would proof to her how true my ramblings are if she would let me inside her heart.

Her eyebrows cringed as she gently stroked her sore feet. Looking round the empty theatre her gaze lingered onto the frosty window nearest to the stage to her right. She could have sworn she saw a mysterious figure looking at her.

I solemly swear never to let you go.

16th-17th June 'o6

copyright of chibiemiko