Forever Silenced

EIGHT MONTHS AGO

I gazed at the person reflected in the mirrors. The image was distorted where her head should have been. A crack separated her eyes from the rest of her body. Those brown eyes dully looked back. There was no fire in them. I was exhausted, the dark circles under my eyes proving my point.

I held the cell phone next to my ear.

“Hi, this is Rebekah Sawyers. I’m obviously not here, otherwise you wouldn’t be hearing me ramble. Anyway, leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

That was just one of five messages I had left in the last week. Why didn’t she answer any of my calls? I knew Rebekah was a busy person and had a bunch of friends but, surely, she had some time to check her phone. Had she already forgotten about me? I hadn’t forgotten her, after all she was my best friend from back home.

Home. I still called it that even though I moved here three months ago. It killed me to be so far from my friends, especially Rebekah, but it was for the best. The Boston Institute of Art had the best dance program in the state. I couldn’t help missing my old home though.

My gaze and thoughts focused on the radio, an old piece of junk which needed at least fifteen seconds to actually start playing. Luckily, it gave me just the right amount of time to take my position.

When the music came on –this time a classical piece composed by one of my favorite teachers– I felt free.

No pain. No worries. No conscious, almost.

For only a minute, the music swayed me into another dimension, my own little world.

I gasped and lost balance when someone closed the door loudly behind me.

My bubble burst, the perfect moment over too soon.

This never happened. The dance studio was old. It smelled dusty, no matter how many scented candles I lit. Several wooden floor boards had collapsed once, leaving a hole in the ground to my right side. No surprise then that people avoided this place.

Sure enough, a guy stood right in front of the door when I looked back into the mirror. I whirled around to face him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, holding a basketball under his right arm. His blonde hair, scattered across his forehead, was drenched.

I quickly glanced at the single window to my left, which overlooked a small basketball court. The sky was clouded; the rain poured outside.

“It’s alright,” I said, though I was a bit upset he had interrupted me. I started walking towards the dressing room next to the entrance but the guy stopped me before I reached it.

“No, please. Don’t go because of me.” His green eyes locked with my brown ones. I searched my mind but came out empty; I hadn’t seen him before. Not that I was the type who knew everyone, but still.

“I was just finishing up anyway,” I lied.

“Please go on, it was beautiful. I can go back out if you don’t like an audience.” He was being so nice, I had no reason to send him back out in the rain.

Besides, I desperately wanted to finish the piece. Dancing was my way of dealing with problems, and that moment, I needed it more than anything.

“Could you push the button for me then?” I asked.

“Sure.”

The guy walked past me and crossed the room to stand beside the radio. Meanwhile, I took my position again and smiled at him, his cue to start the music.