The Point of No Return

Beginnings

I was 10 years old when I started training......
They wanted the best of me, I had the perfect figure for the job. It’d been my dream. If only I had known the toll it would take. My mother, my sole caretaker, would watch from another room. She moved here from France when she was 20 for my father. Only to have him leave her when I was born. I continued to dance and stretch in front of the mirror, while my trainer spat a mix of Russian and French at me. I obeyed every command, and floated across the room. My toes hurt after every step, I was trying so hard. It wasn’t enough, there was always someone better.

“Yvette!” Madame Glastri called. I turned to face her, “Madame?” I questioned. I stretched my right leg out as an attempt to distract her. “Stop your daydreaming!” She spat. She walked down the isle of us, straight to Violet. “Why can’t any of you be more like Violet.” Madame gestured toward the suck-up. Violet has been my only competition in this class since day one. We despised each other. Her father was the owner of our company, and it was the only reason she got any attention.

“The day is up girls.” Mr.Danolle called from his usually hiding space. No one could see him, but we bowed our head, and headed straight to the dressing room. I changed quickly. The faster I get out of here, the quicker I get to rest. Which I never seem to have time for. “Why in such a rush, little Yvette?” It was Violet.

Her sleek black hair laid simply against her porcelain shoulders. Her pouty lips stuck out at me, I snarled. Her voice lacked compassion, her eyes were almost black. I shook my head, and ignored her, I started out the room. She wasn’t far behind me. “I asked you a question, Yvette!.” She spoke, her voice colder. Her two “clones” were behind her. Lucy a rather beautiful girl. She was tall, and very slender. More slender than the rest of us anyway. Her hair fell in blond curls, only medium length. Then, there was Becca. A wannabe. She was jealous of everyone in the group, she couldn’t dance to save her life. Violet is her cousin, that’s why she’s here. She has dark brown hair, and the same color eyes as Violet’s. They could be sisters if you didn’t know better.

I stopped mid step. I flashed around, “Don’t you have anything better to do, rather than to stalk me like a couple of freaks?” It was the same routine. Everyday, I spoke the same phrase, and the same thing happen. I end up going home with a black eye.

I sat in a blue car now, my mother frowning at me. She sighed. She had nothing more to say. All she wanted was me to live out her dream. Or should I now say our dream? I didn’t know anymore. I didn’t want this. “Oh, Yvette.” She teared. I know she didn’t like seeing me in pain. “Are you sure you don’t want to change groups?” She asked once more. I couldn’t, they’d think I was weak, and I am not weak! “No.” I said sternly. The ride was quiet the rest of the way home.

We lived in the poorer side of the west end. It wasn’t like ghetto or anything though. It was suburbia. Mom left the car first, I stepped out slowly grabbing my bag and slippers. My jeans were worn down. I had holes at the knees. My top was an icy blue, it was snug on my body. I wore vans on my aching feet, they didn’t help very much. I let out a huff.

“Ettie! Ettie!” I heard my nickname. Only one person was allowed to called me this. I smirked. “Hey Erik.” I punched his arm softly. Erik and I had been best friends since I moved her when I was ten. He was the only friend I had out of the studio. He went to the public school down the road, while I was home schooled. Erik stepped closer, her lifted up my chin. He examined my eye. “Who did this?” He was like an older brother to me. I took my face away. “It’s nothing.” I dropped my stuff at my front door, we began walking towards his place.

“Ettie, this isn’t nothing. Did those girls do this.” He persisted. “Just leave it be.” I insisted. “Good afternoon Mrs. Vogel.” She looked up from her baking, and smiled towards me. She never said much, a smile was her form of communication. I walked the familiar steps up to Erik’s room. He gestured me in. I flopped down on his bed. He laid next to me. “I wish they wouldn't do this to you.” He said brushing my cinnamon hair with his fingers. I smiled softly. “ I don’t mind it.” I sighed, and sat up.

“How are things working with your mystery girl?” I giggled, Erik always speaks of this girl who goes to his school. “Same old, same old. Still doesn’t notice me.” He laughed as well, and blushed. “Don’t worry, hun. She’ll come around.”

“Erik, darling! There’s a boy here for you!”