I haven't written for a while so this may need a lot of corrections or it could be just too horrible to even fix.
It my not be fantasy now but it wll be
Chapter 1
I lifted my leg up into an arabesque and balanced as I tried to point my feet and keep my knee straightened. Ms. Meyer, the ballet teacher, passed by me without glancing my way. I frowned when I failed to receive her attention and lost my balance. As I let my leg fall, she sharply turned my way and started yelling out corrections.
“Lena, what do you think you are doing!? Resting in a middle of a combination?”
“I-I just l-lost my b-balance,” I stammered trying to bring my leg up again.
“There is no time for excuses, Lena! Turn out your leg! Stop hunching! Look at your hand! Oh, just stop Lena! The combination is over already, anyway.”
I let my leg drop as I looked down trying to stop myself for crying. I could feel everyone’s stare weighing down on me, making me flush. If I am no good, what in the world am I doing here taking ballet lessons?
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I dragged myself home, exhausted from the day’s humiliation. Why did Ms. Meyer hate me so much? Is even losing my balance an excuse? I definitely was not resting in the middle of the combination.
The distance from the ballet studio and my house seemed an eternity, even though it was only about two miles. When I reached my house, I just went straight to my room and flopped onto my bed, crumpling the already wrinkled sheets. Maybe I should quit if I am such a horrible dancer. Maybe I should…
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I woke up to my mother yelling at me.
“What are you doing in bed with your dirty shoes on!”
Was today some special day for yelling?
“Uh? Oh, sorry, I was just so tired for some reason today,” I answered rubbing my eyes.
Why would my mother even care? She isn’t a very clean person either.
“I don’t have time for excuses L! Get up, you still need to do your homework,”
That was when I exploded.
“IS EVERYTHING I SAY AN EXCUSE?!” I stormed out of my room, out the house and into the woods while ignoring my mother’s yells. I wonder if she will ever lose her voice from yelling so much. I hope so.
The wood is my backyard, literally. It is nothing unusual, if you live in Maine. I sat in my tree house that my father and I built together. He was the “Gentle Giant;" big and kind of scary, but gentle. After my father died, my mother seemed to become very old and she started to yell more often than talk.
I huddled in the middle, rocking back and forth. It made me feel childish, but I did not care. Childish or not, I always seemed to be doing something wrong, different, weird, or just not human. Maybe I am not human. I had to laugh at that. Of course I was human. I look human. It was just that no one ever seems to understand me, not even my own mother. I buried my head in my knees and just stayed there for, who knows how long. Suddenly, I heard a twig snap and a beam of light escape through the cracks in the wooden walls. I groaned. That was probably my mother. I want to go to sleep in my bed anyways, no need to hide in here.
I opened the trap door and jumped out. I had forgotten how long the way down was and felt my knees buckle under me as I landed. I fell face first into the dirt.
I felt the beam of light on me then laughter. I looked up, startled, for that was not my mother who was laughing. I couldn’t see who was behind the flashlight in the darkness, but I was sure it was a girl. At least it sounded like a girl.
“Hey! What are you laughing about?” I growled. There was more laughter before the person answered.
“Sorry about that, but if you were me, you would have laughed too!” It was definitely a girl; her voice was soft and high.
“Who are you?” I asked, slowly getting up.
“Sorry, I can’t tell you that,”
“Why not?” I asked stubbornly.
“Because I can’t”, she answered.
“You can’t or you don’t want to?”
“Both,” she said cheerfully.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” I asked letting the talk about her identity drop.
“What are you doing here” she shot back. When I remained silent she laughed again.
“Bye,” she said suddenly and clicked off her flashlight as I heard her run away.
I was left in the darkness without light. How rude, just to run away like that!
I just stood there for a while before heading towards home. I really did not want to go back. My mother would probably attack me with more yells. I sighed with disappointment when I realized I was already at the front door. I hoped that she would just hug me and say how worried she was. With a deep breath I opened the door loudly and stomped in. After a second of stomping I listened for my mother’s footsteps. I heard none. Instead I heard a soft snore coming from the living room. I quietly peeked into the room to find my mother sleeping peacefully. She did not look worried in her sleep at all.
Don’t I have a wonderful mother? I thought sarcastically as my mother muttered “chocolate” in her sleep and licked her lips.
