This is a kinda sad fic...i'm in the mood for upsetting fics lately i mean "I Promise" and now this? Wow i must be really depressed huh? ok well review and tell me which you find is sadder.
Not suprisingly its about Kitty but the person tellin it could be
anyone you decide. I have a kinda idea of whos POV i wrote this in but
i amn't sure. Review and tell me who you think it is!
She always loved her dance shoes. Sure they were
stained with her blood, but she didn't care. She'd go into the basement
and dance for hours sometimes with no music. I would sneak the door
open and sit at the top landing watching her dance. The way her body
moved to its own beat, each twirl more perfect and graceful than the
last. She could do that really weird thing when she lifts her leg right
up and holds it next to her head and twirls on her pointed toe that was
still on the ground.
When she was mad she danced even more. She
danced till her feet bled and then she would come to me and asked me to
bandage them. I don't know why she came to me...convenience I guess,
though i like to think it was something more.
Her dance shoes were a
pale pink, with ribbons up her shins tied tightly. She normally just
wore a pair of tights and a pale pink leotard when she was practicing.
She never took her dance shoes off, they made her even more light, hard
to hear. Her power of going threw anything and walking on air helped.
She always stuck her pink tounge out whilst consintrating on twirls and
spins, trying her hardest to stop the muscle tremors that shook her
perfect limbs. She always said that she would rather die than stop
dancing. It was her life. She had just finished her ballet recital when
it happened. She came out the back way to avoid crowds of angry mutant
haters that had boo'd her on the stage but she hadn't stopped dancing.
She tried to avoid the crowds but the found her. She was still wearing
her uniform and dance shoes when they cornered her. She always said
she'd rather die than run away. She twirled out the way of the first
bullets. She danced away from the blows. They stripped her down and did
terribal things to her. They left her alone in the damp allyway naked
and bleeding. But she died with a smile on her face, because-and this I
know-in her mind she was still dancing. And thats how I found her.
Bloody.
Broken.
Smiling.
Dancing her way to whatever awaited her in the next life.
Dancing her way to freedom.
Still wearing those dance shoes.
Ok this was short but i hope you liked it!
R&R baby!