Once I Was a Ballerina (A DC Comics Story)

Chapter 1

The little girl sat excitedly in her seat, her long black hair blending into the colored padding of the chair. Blue eyes glowing with excitement, her little body bouncing in the chair, unable to sit still. This was five-year-old Roshia Albelet.

To the left of Roshia was a man, seemingly in his twenties. He sat smiling softly, looking at Roshia. His short and messy black hair slightly shimmering in the light from the gel he put into it many hours before. Dull blue, almost gray, eyes seemed to brighten like a flame as Roshia bounced with excitement. This was Albert Albelet, Roshia's father.

To the right of Roshia was a woman in her early twenties. She had a hand resting lightly on Roshia's shoulder. Her dark brown hair seemed to cover the chair like a flowing river of chocolate. Bright green eyes that shone like emeralds with kindness hidden deep inside, flickering with joy as she looked ahead. This was Emma Albelet, Roshia's mother.

The family of three sat within one of Gotham's high-class theaters. Roshia had asked and begged for weeks to go. Her parents had to make a few sacrifices with the monthly bills, but in the end, it was worth it. Tonight was a ballet, a famous and classic, The Swan Lake.

When the theater lights dimmed, Roshia stopped bouncing. Every muscle in her body seemed tense as she fixated on the stage, covered by a curtain. After what felt like hours, the curtain lifted, and Roshia was lost in the beauty and grace of the performance.

After the ballet was over, Roshia would do nothing but talk about it, and how much she wanted to be as talented and as graceful as the dancers. A few weeks later, her parents surprised her with a tape of the ballet. She watched the tape multiple times a day, only stopping to rewind it.

When Emma and Albert caught her copying, the movements of the ballerinas with perfect precision. They knew the perfect birthday present for their soon-to-be six-year-old daughter. Once the day came, they surprised Roshia with Little Princess Dance Academy, a ballet school, and a pair of ballerina shoes.

Months seemed to pass like hours as Roshia was a child prodigy and was wanted by many directors. All money Roshia made her parents placed in a savings account Roshia could access when she turned 18. As time went on, Emma noticed her daughter would get cuts and bruises that wouldn't go away. Mere weeks after Roshia's seventh birthday, her parents took her into the doctor's office for a regular checkup. During the checkup, Roshia fainted and was rushed to the ER.

Roshia awoke to the steady beeping of the machines hooked up to her in order to keep track of her vitals. Her parents stood over her, worry in their eyes, tears streaming down their faces. This was the first time she saw her father cry.

"Mom... Dad?" she said, her voice barely louder than the machines.

"Little Swan," her dad said, hurrying to her side.

Her mother, however, kept her distance, unable to bring herself to even look at her daughter. The news the doctors gave them was too much to bear. She was in denial. How could this have happened to them?

"What is wrong, dad?" Roshia asked, placing a hand on her father's face, feeling tears.

"You're sick" he responded, his voice cracking.

"Like the flu?" Roshia asked, confused.

"Worse. Much worse." her dad said, holding her hand gently but firmly.

Roshia had a genetic anomaly for which her body produced no blood platelets, and her cells couldn't recognize wounds. It was a miracle she was still alive, at least that's what the doctors said. There was no cure, no treatment, and no doctor willing to research this condition. Unable to move Roshia from the hospital, her parents slowly were losing their money. The only thing left was the savings they didn't want to use.