A/N:
Uh, okay here's that Shannon one. If anyone's wondering why I'm
updating so much, that would be because I'm home sick and bored out
of my mind. Note the reference to lying on the couch under a blanket? Yeah, that's me:P
Silver Dust
Ashes.
Silver dust, the remnants of a once bright, glorious dream.
God, it was like a soap opera.
Shannon used to watch those old soap operas when she was home sick from school. During the day when there was nothing else on but reruns and she was huddled up on the couch with a blanket and a 101 degree temperature. People on those shows, when their lifelong dreams were crushed tended to sit around with hollow eyes, writing in diaries or contemplating the meaning of life. They didn't speak to anyone. They didn't eat anything. They were usually out of tears, cried dry from the horrible incident that had spun them out of control.
Shannon wanted to scream, and cry, and throw several temper tantrums, and then she wanted to eat an entire pint of ice cream, and smash all of Sabrina's little knick-knacks by throwing them at her (Sabrina's that was) head.
That woman - that witch! All she wanted - all she wanted - was to do ballet. That was it.
She still couldn't bring herself to understand that it wasn't going to happen. She wasn't going to go to New York. She wasn't going to take an internship. None of this was going to happen, because of Sabrina.
Shannon didn't know where she was going. She didn't know what she was going to do. But she knew one thing - wherever it was, it was going to be as far away from Sabrina as possible.
Musing to herself as silent tears ran down her cheeks and she put her ballet slippers into a cardboard box (this really was like a soap opera wasn't it?), she thought she'd always liked the thought of Europe. France maybe? Yeah, maybe France…
A/N: Well, please tell me what you thought!