I rocked back and forth on my pointe shoes in nervous anticipation, the box at the front of the shoe making the softest of sounds each time my bodyweight shifted forward. My baby blue tutu stood straight out, creating a bubble of space around me, separating me from the rest of the dancers backstage, each one in a different costume, patiently waiting their turn on stage.
With each passing second, the pain caused by the bobby pins that had been haphazardly shoved into my bun to keep it in place at the last second dulled. The corset that cinched in my waist to make it even smaller than it already was slowly becoming a second skin.
I ran my hands down my pink tights in quick succession three times, trying to wipe away the sweat that had formed there. Images of me falling or forgetting my dance flashed before my eyes. I could practically hear my dance teacher, Mrs. Matthews, yelling at me for being the only dancer to mess up, how I destroyed her reputation at competitions.
The girl who was scheduled to go before me pranced onto stage, her skirt swishing around her hips. I shifted my weight, and suddenly, I could see the judges. My stomach twisted itself into forty different knots. My breath started to come in shorter and shorter bursts, and there was a rock behind my ribcage. I practically threw myself away from the opening and ran to the small passage behind the stage. I tried to force myself to calm down, but all I could do was stop the tears from falling. Pull yourself together Raven! I reprimanded myself, and slowly returned my breathing back down to normal, but I could not get rid of the overwhelming feeling of panic and wrongness.
I could hear the music on stage slowly fade out and I ran back up to my position in the wings.
“You ready?” Asked one of the men clad all in black with a headset on that wandered backstage at all competitions. I nodded my confirmation and took one last deep breath before they announced my solo.
I ran onto the stage with my toes pointed and my feet turned out as I struck my opening position. The music started and I floated across the stage. I felt the slightest pain as I stood up on my toes and turned around, but then it disappeared as I concentrated on the music.
I prepped for my leap combination. I was on the second leap when I saw the flash. I was dazed for that split second that I hung in the air, and then gravity took its toll.
I landed on the side of my box, my foot sliding out from underneath me. I heard the sickening crunch as I collapsed on the stage floor. Get up. I told myself. I tried to roll over and stand up, and that was when I felt the searing pain shoot up my leg.
I didn’t even realize that I was screaming until one of the black-clad personnel was asking me what was hurting.
“Make it stop! Please make it STOP!” I screamed at the person, and to the rest of the audience, to anyone who could hear me. I couldn’t stop screaming or crying until I finally blacked out from the pain when my mother scoped me up into her arms, bridal style.
ONE MONTH LATER
I clumped around in my room in the heavy black boot that the doctors were forcing me to wear until I healed. The one time I had tried to walk without it I had almost re-broken it. The doctors said that I had broken several bones in my foot in multiple places. I had been told that I probably wouldn’t walk or dance on it for six months at the very least.
I flopped onto my bed and screamed into my pillow. When I ran out of breath, I flipped onto my side and reached out to my bedside table and grabbed the music box that I had kept there ever since I was four. I opened it up and listened to the Waltz of the Snowflakes from the Nutcracker. I closed my eyes and imagined myself gliding across the stage in a white tutu. I felt the slightest of twinges from my foot as I shifted it slightly. I snapped my eyes open as I came back to reality. I felt the tears start to flow out of my eyes and stream down my cheeks as I remembered that I might never dance again. In a flash of rage, I chucked the music box across my room and watched as it hit the wall and crashed to the floor.
SIX MONTHS LATER
I sat in the waiting room as I waited for the doctor to come back with the X-rays, and the verdict if I would dance again this season, or ever again. I wiped my hands down my jeans as I watched the second hand on the clock make its revolutions.
When the door finally opened, after what seemed like hours, but had really just been a matter of minutes, he looked grim. My stomach dropped and I could feel my entire world crumbling around me, turning black and empty.
“Your foot is still healing, you won’t be able to dance for at least another six months, come back then.” He told me.
“Dance?” Was the only word I managed to choke out past the lump in my throat.
“I’ll tell you at your next visit.” He told me, and my world crumbled just a bit more.
ONE MONTH LATER
“What do you think about going to public school for the rest of the year?” My mom asked me as I longed on our living room couch. I looked up at her and my world crumbled even more.
“Public school?” I asked.
“Well, you’re not dancing all the time nowadays and you’ve been sort of lazing around the house ever since the accident and I thought it might have something to do with the fact that now that you’re not dancing, you don’t know what to do with yourself. So, yeah, public school.” She explained, and even though I felt dead inside, I nodded my head, because that was what she wanted out of me.
FIVE MONTHS LATER
“Mrs. Jackson, can we see Raven down to the main office for early dismissal?” Requested the voice over the speaker.
“Sure thing!” Mrs. Jackson, my math teacher, said. She nodded her head at me, letting me know that I was free to go. I stood up and reached for my crutches, as I slung my back-pack over one of my shoulders. I exited the room as fast as I could, still uncomfortable with having all eyes on me as I left the class early. As soon as I was out of the room, I practically ran-as much as you could run while walking with crutches and a big black boot-towards the main office.
As soon as my mom saw me, she opened the door for me on the passenger side of the car. I slid into the seat and placed my crutches across my lap as she closed the door and walked around to her side and started up the car.
When we reached the doctor’s office, my stomach started tying itself into knots and continued to tie itself into knots up until the doctor came back in with the x-rays.
“You’ve made a great recovery, you can take your boot off.” He told me, and slowly, very slowly, my world began to peace itself back together again.
“Will I be able to dance again?” I asked him, desperation coloring my voice.
“If you take it slowly at first, I don’t see why not.” He told me, giving me one of those smiles that all doctors seem to have whenever they are delivering good news. Elation shot through my body as I let the news settle in, soaking it up.
When we got back in the car, my mom turned toward me and just smiled at me.
“Next year, you can go back to home schooling if you want to.” She told me when we reached our drive way. I nodded my head, and suddenly public school didn't seem so hopeless as another piece of my life fell back into place.
ONE MONTH LATER
I stepped back into the dance studio, the first time in over a year. I felt a huge smile grace my lips as my heart lifted back into place. I put my dance bag into a cubby and pulled out my pink, canvas ballet flats. I slipped them over my feet and walked into the dance room.
“Raven!” One of the girls cried out, I lifted my hand in greeting.
“It’s good to have you back Raven; the team just wasn’t the same without you.” Said Ms. Matthews. I smiled at her and took my place at the bar.
I placed my feet into the fifth position and the last part of my life clicked back into place.
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140,783 Literary Works • 673,688 Reviews
Hello, emjay here to review
I've just begun to read this story and so far I really like it. It has a good flow to it if you know what I mean. The one thing I've noticed, though, is that you need to be using more commas.
When Raven falls I like the language you use to describe the scene and her reaction. It's well-written and the extreme pain she feels is conveyed through your words.
You're very good at describing movements. I can easily imagine the manner in which Raven moves, in which direction she is moving, and even where objects are placed around her. There is a great simplicity to your writing that makes it easy to understand and enjoyable to read.
I like that line a lot because it's funny and a great image.
I loved this story. It was simple and sweet
Okay. I have a lot of things to say about this piece of writing. Most of them good, some of them bad.
lol. I loved the concept, and I liked that the main character's name is Raven.
You had a lot of run on sentences. You used some commas in the place of periods. Your most major flaw is sentence structure and punctuation. As far as grammar goes, I didn't see much else wrong with it.
Let me just say, I loved this. I had been contemplating writing about a girl who breaks her foot in a performance for a while, but you stole the idea
I don't like how short this was. Several months go by in only a few paragraphs, and the subheadings make it extremely awkward. We don't hear a lot about Raven's recovery. That's the most key thing when a dancer has an injury. The abruptness made it difficult for you to emphasize the difficulty of recovery. The doctor's answer after a year is unrealistic. With an injury like that, the doctors would be much more cautious, even after a year of recovery.
I wish you would have described Raven more. Her personality, her physical appearance etc. etc.
I loved your descriptions throughout the story. I love how you described her physical and emotional pain. It was very vivid, and made the story more real to me.
I hope this helped
Actually, I was intending to review the oldest work in the green room without reviews but your story came up at th bottom for some reason even if its stated that it's only been published for 3 hours. Anyways...
My review will be broken up into The Good and What Needs Improvement.
The Good
1) I like your use of ballet terms, and I like how you describe how it's like to be a ballet dancer. It serves well to immerse the reader, and I was immersed all right.
2) Your method of motivating the main character is pretty realistic and well done. It doesn't have to be some huge cash prize or a contract to be won. Here, it's passion, and to please Mrs Matthews on the side, to show that she's not a screw-up. And it's good enough. Not everyone, and in fact most people aren't that ambition at such a stage, and you've portrayed that well.
3) The line about her corset becoming her second skin is very well composed. It's very poetic about her passion and occupation, and how it takes her over, but at the same time I get a sense of restriction and confinement, especially when coupled with the pressure everyone's been giving her.
4) I like how you zoomed in on the psychic distance between reader and character during her dance on stage. It signifies a moment of intense pressure and tension, and eventually trauma. Good use of technique. I enjoyed reading through her thought process and in fact...
What Needs Improvement
1) You should have closed in the psychic distance like almost totally. Your piece is written in the first person, and it's a very close, intimate piece about a girl whose lifelong passion and dream's on the line. Her raw thoughts and emotions should be in the story itself, as it's just too good an opportunity to pass up. We're given a taste of that in the beginning and I'm sure in bits and pieces along the way, but it simply isn't enough.
2) That said, there are some points in which you're telling more than showing, unfortunately. Such as 'I asked him, desperation coloring my voice.' How does it color her voice? Tell us about that. 'Elation shot through my body as I let the news settle in, soaking it up.' Here, I think it would be better if you describe both physical sensations and how she was affected mentally. And at the end: "last part of my life clicked back into place." I'd love it if this was elaborated more. Some metaphors and expressions thrown in might do the trick, something that depicts the artsy nature of her passion. Art in writing to portray art in her ballet.
3) I feel that the other characters should be better defined. They are potential gold mines for you to motivate Raven further. Some of them could be mean. How is Mrs. Matthews demanding? Some of them could be beacons of hope for her to return to. Is there anyone in the public school interacting with her?
4) Furthermore, I feel that there's too little at stake. Sure, Raven might not dance again, but the way she took it seemed tame enough. Why not put her sanity and emotional well-being more on the line? As Stephen King loves to say, cut your loved ones! Cut them up! Ritual scarification, be it mental or physical, has been around since the Greeks, and it is very essential to show any kind of journey.
5) I feel that Raven's line when she broke her foot/ankle is too proper for someone in horrible pain, who just lost her solo completely and might lose her dancing career. It's supposed to be where the story turns, and it isn't dramatic enough, I feel. This, I feel, could be extended to the paragraph it is part of. A million things, to Raven, would be going on, both in her mind, in her body, in her soul, and what she perceived to be in the place and people around her. Make it a mini-climax, I guess. That might work.
6) The second half of the story could use a bit more flesh. Show us more about how it's like to be down in the dumps, to be truly melancholic.
7) Lastly, it's a small thing but Mrs. Matthrews became Ms. Matthews at the end.