Walking home from the studio on a Thursday night, Lucy was paying no attention to her surroundings. She strolled down a side street, her hair let down after practice. Turning onto the road where she lives, Lucy was struck with a thought. I've made this turn a hundred times. I walk down this street every day. I go to the studio, to school, back to the studio, and home every single day. What am I doing?
Lucy's thoughts followed her as she walked up to her bedroom. Her perfect bedroom. No clothes on the floor, no dishes, no messy piles of paper in sight. Just a neat bed, her dancing awards hung up precisely in a straight line, and a skylight.
Every night, Lucy looks up through that skylight and makes a wish on the first star she sees. Always the same wish. Make me a better dancer. Please.
That's all she really wanted. All she ever dreamed of and hoped for. But her walk home had sparked something in her. Something so small no one but her would know. Something she could pretend never occurred to her. And that's all it took. That night, she wished for something else.
That night, Lucy quietly said to the star, "I want something to change. Please."
***
Alarm clock blaring, Lucy spun out of bed. She looked the same as every morning, but the gears were already turning.
Rushing out, she almost forgot to grab her dance bag. She wasn't thinking straight. Most days, Lucy tiredly glided to the studio to make her 5:15 practice. Today, though, she walked with a purpose.
As she unlocked the door - her instructor had given her a key because she's the first one at the studio every day - Lucy had a sparkle. A glint. Something in her eyes that screamed passion.
She set down her bag, pulled her hair up by habit, and strode to the center of the room. She looked at herself in the wall-to-wall mirror. This wasn't the normal are-my-lines-perfect-are-my-toes-pointed kind of look a ballet dancer gives when checking herself in the mirror. Lucy stood perfectly straight and viewed herself head-on. Thinking about how she saw the same hair pulled back every day, the same practice outfit, the same tattered practice shoes - a sight that normally makes her proud of her dedication - made her cringe.
Lucy quickly pushed that criticism out of her mind and let her body take over. The dancer pushed through her entire routine, start to finish, 3 times before she let herself stop.
It was only 7:00. Normally, Lucy rushed out of the studio at 7:30 to get to school on time, but she had sped through her routine today. During her cool-down stretches, she felt her heart pumping - not from exertion, but from adrenaline.
Today is going to be my day. I just know it.
To be continued.
No comments:
Post a Comment