.:Dancing:.
Written for 4th period Literature Class as a short story. Characters taken from my work-in-progress novel Philosophy for Freedom.
(this story is exactly 949 words long. if you want to write a long short story for the contest, this is close to what we're looking for)
She felt the cool, moist mist surround her as she stepped onto the
stage, anxiety and a sense of accomplishment filling her mind, but her
hands were shaking as she took a deep breath. With the soft beginnings
of music, the curtains glided open, allowing the dim spotlight to
illuminate the mist and her red dress – it was covered with slight
spirals of silver thread and sequins that made it glitter, causing a
striking look with the spirals of red fabric gently dropping to her
ankles. Her ballet shoe covered feet tapped the black-painted wood of
the stage cautiously. This was her big night. Taking a shaking breath,
she started to dance, using neither her arms nor her smile to bring on
the crowd, but instead, using her movements and the solemn words of the
song to bring for even more emotion than displayed when the song was
originally used in the Broadway musical Wicked.
Hands touch, she thought to herself along with the music.
Eyes meet…
The girl looked shyly into the audience then gently looked away. She
felt the flood of emotion from the words and her own thoughts. Why did
she fall in love with him? Why did she feel this way?
Sudden silence, sudden heat…
She felt tears bite her eyes and closed them, trying not the ruin her
makeup. Her feet hit the stage and she stepped forward, sliding to rest
on her knees. Arms arched above her body, she looked up at the lights,
letting them blind her in her brilliance. The crowd gasped when she
fell – on purpose – and stood back up. Pain seemed to cross her
stricken face as she slightly hobbled before dancing again. Acting was
her dream but dancing was her passion, so she could do both very
wonderfully.
I’m not that girl… She heard the music start to
fade. A final leap pulled her out of her trance and she spun to the
floor in a pose, hands resting on her dress as she stared out in the
audience for him as the curtains closed. She saw him and her heart
skipped a beat as she lowered her face and the mist engulfed her like a
hungry beast once more and the curtains closed, shutting the audience
out of her mind.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
“Ren, are you okay?” the girl heard one of her friends say as she entered the dressing room.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ren replied. She looked at him – he had performed a
show of magic tricks. A black and red cloak hung from the shoulders of
his suit. His gray eyes were darkened with black makeup. “Who did your
makeup, Nick?”
“Andrea. Who else could make me look dead?” he laughed. “You sure? And
do you have all of that makeup removing stuff of yours with you?”
“I’m sure. And yes,” Ren pulled a bottle from the bag under the chair
she had claimed in front of one of the long mirrors. The heat and the
smell of hairspray, perfume, and cologne made her head spin. “Forget
dressing room, this place smells like a hair and makeup salon.” She
coughed and handed the bottle to Nick.
“Thank you and I know.” He quickly started on getting the makeup off of his face.
“No problem.” Ren pulled her black legwarmers over her legs. It was
autumn and cool out. Why they had a talent show in autumn, she didn’t
know. Pulling her duffle bag over her shoulder and grabbing her
backpack, she smiled at Nick. “See you out in the lobby.” He only
nodded as she walked out the door.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Where is he? She wandered the enormous lobby aimlessly. Then,
suddenly as if by one of Nick’s magic tricks, he was standing before
her. He bumped into her accidentally. “Oh, Andrew, I’m so--” her voice
trailed off. Heart pounding, she looked into the hazy green storms that
were his eyes. He must have been performing, she thought as she looked
at his dark black suit and corsage. His eyes were solemn, then again,
his nature was quiet and shy, but he was a singer in a band when he
felt like being outgoing and wild – his personality was kind of like
her own.
“You know, that song didn’t befit of you,” Andrew said, rather harshly.
Hazy green eyes glared at her from underneath the dark brown hair that
covered half of his left eye. Anger didn’t stay long in his eyes,
though, it soon softened.
“Why so?” she was taken aback by his words, despite realizing the
change in his attitude. She thought it fit perfectly. Ren gasped when
he pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. It was filled with
red and white flowers with a large red rose in the middle, her favorite
colors – and her favorite flower. “F-for… me?”
“Yes, for you. Would you like to go to homecoming with me?” Andrew’s
face was straight; he was trying very hard not to show his emotion.
“Who else would want this bouquet?” A slight smile crossed his face as
he looked into her deep brown eyes that were filled to the brim with an
inner turmoil. He thought she was going to cry but didn’t say anything.
“Why me?” Ren stared at the flowers in disbelief. She had never seen
such a beautiful bouquet. Did he know that she had a crush on him? A
gentle pink crossed her cheeks, and it wasn’t just the makeup.
“Because, Ren. You
are that girl.”