A Little Lullaby

A Little Lullaby, 

***

Slipping my shoes on my sore feet I took the first step’s out onto the stage. The crowd was deadly silent as I made my first move. My arm’s flow freely above me as I swivel my legs to the right. Dancing has always been a passion of mine, taught by the best.

My mum.

She was an amazing dancer; she ever let her pain be seen through her dancing. My mum died of breast cancer when I was 6; it’s just me and dad now. Although I always feel like she is with me when I dance, I can never forget her lessons and the memories we made…

Turning around to face the audience and continuing on with my routine someone from the audience got up and left. Walked straight past me as they were running to get out, the look of sorrow on their face. This isn’t the first time I can be disappointed by my dad walking out, he does it every time. I ask he doesn’t come but he says he will try and stay this time, never does he.

Taking the fast steps to towards the right of the stage I jump. For a brief four seconds I was with nothing but air. This was always the most problematic part of my routine, as I have to land correctly then end with a bow. At least he made it almost to the end of my performances.

Too many thought buzzing through my head as I try to concentrate on landing correctly, but with an audible snap and a sharp piercing scream my dreams ended. Never to return to the stage just like mum. The scream was overpowering the small audience, the whispers and mummers, slowly creating a much more startled crowd. Shouting woke me from my daze and that was all it took for the pain to set in. the brief moment of no pain was now forgotten as the pain was almost unbearable. My screams were only just heard over the bubbling crowd, large foot falls were shaking the stage and me along with it. Many people crowd me on the stage as I try move.  More touched screams erupt from my thought, more pitiful tears stream down my face as I try to move again.

Arms held me tight as they tried to look at my ankle. I distinctly remember being moved from one set of hand to another, being held bridal style. Hot hands held me tight as I drifted in and out of consciousness, the pain too unmanageable. More agonised cries came from me as I was moved into a car and taken to the nearest hospital, although we didn’t make it the whole way there.

Apparently my dad was one of the men in the car with me as some drunken truck driver ran a red light and crushed my dreams, hopes and my dad with us still in the car. The other person I didn’t know, the look of absolute horror came along his face before he moved me to the back, my seatbelt hitting my side and leg as I moved I cried out in pain again.

Then it hit.

And when it hit, it hit hard. Crushing my father and only other family with it. If it wasn’t for that man that moved me I would be with them. My mum and dad. Sirens were audible as the hospital was around the corner, my vision blurred as my head made contact with the hard door of the backseat. Then when I though all was lost a voice spoke with rage and power that wouldn’t let me go, as much as I tried me couldn’t cross over…

“NO!” it roared, “YOU WILL NOT DIE, NO”

Was the last thing I remember? Not like I can remember much after that crash.

***

An unknown noise is what woke me. A strange beeping and an audible dripping noise. My vision was blurry but I could still see the white light above me, the same type of light I remember but cannot name. A feeling crossed my mind, fear. Fear of the light, fear of that type of light. Similar to another I cannot name.