The Dancer

SCARLETT P.O.V

have you ever been heartbroken? Lost the one person you love that means everything to you? Ever had to say goodbye to someone, and you have that indescribable pain in you Chest? A longing ache.

Have you ever been told that your not allowed to do what you love. Where everyday you wake up and you know that the only thing that keeps you sane..keeps the pain at bay.

Having that hat ripped away from you is worse than heart break and worse than saying goodbye.

having to say goodbye to my mum and dad when I was four years old hurt, crying for days for both of them. Being only four years old and loosing both parents was awful. But then my grandmother came in and turned my life around.

Having your bestfriend leave without saying goodbye. Being alone when you need them by your side. It was painful. But I Nicole rescue me, from my lonely world. Bringing me out into the light.

But ihaving my one true passion ripped away from me. Dance, the one thing I was actually quite good at. The one thing where I had achieved something. Gone from being a nobody to being a somebody. Living my dream. Dancing was when I forgot, all my worrys. I danced the pain away.

This time there will be nothing to take its place. No bestfriend or grandma to save me now.

Alone again. It's like feelin claustrophobic outside. Feeling the most alone you could ever feel in a room full on people.



I push through the double doors as quick as I can. Tears streaming down my face, my stomachs turned to acid.

I get to a bin just in time as my breakfast makes a reappearance.

I stumble down the steps outside a walk to my car. Numb to the world. Not caring that cars a squeaking to a halt as the drivers slam there feet on the break.

Hit it me I think. Just hit me. It won't ever be as painful as this.

Am I in a stable condition to drive? No.
am I going to anyway? Of course.

i ignore every red light I see. I don't stop at the stop signs. I don't let people cross the zebra crossing. I just keep going oblivious.

Reaching home and parking. Suddenly the numbness goes and I'm hit like a ton of bricks with reality.

Reporters and paps surround my car. I grasp my now useless dance bag and push my way through the crowd.

My names being shouted by 50 different voices. But only one catches my attention.

I cross the threshold of out property. By law no one can cross it without our permission.

I her the voice again then my crunch of gravel.

Not a click or flash can be heard or seen. There fingers hover, shaking with excitement over the buttons. Microphones are at the ready.

There ready for the argument that will make the front page in there trashy magazines.

Spinning on my heel the insults on the tip of my tounge, I'm ready.

Notes