Dream, Dance, Love (A One Direction Fan Fiction)

Chapter 1

      Sitting alone in the semi-darkness, I look down at the stage that has been my life for the last 6 months. I hug my knees tightly and sob uncontrollably, unable to accept that I will never be able to dance on it again. Tonight was my last dance and that reality is something I’m just not ready to accept. I wipe my nose and take a deep breath, trying to regain some control and pride. I close my eyes and think back to the beginning of this experience. If I wasn’t so miserable, I would probably find it quite funny. It seems ages ago, but in actuality it’s only been 6 months. At that time I never expected to still be here or to really even care how long the journey would last. How different life was then…

 I’m Elle Edwards,  just a typical, small-town Southern girl, raised by my single mom in the Bible Belt of Mississippi. I was a creative and energetic kid, and Mom’s patience was tested by me on more than one occasion. It’s a good thing I was also exceptionally smart because it’s what saved me in the end. I had a pretty tumultuous elementary school career where I was in the office weekly, usually for talking…which I did quite a lot. I was never disrespectful; I just liked to talk to whoever would listen…teachers, classmates, strangers on the street. It really didn’t matter to me. I found people interesting, so I talked to anyone who would listen and even to those who didn't. The school office had my mom on speed dial because they called her so often. Toward the end of my 6-year school career, the principal and I were pretty much on a first- name basis. Our meetings were frequent and pretty much always the same. He’d walk out of his office and see me sitting on the wooden bench with my pink slip waiting. I would smile and wave at him, and he would look at the secretary, who would just roll her eyes. I never liked her much. I warned her one day that her eyes may just get stuck if she kept rolling them around. I don’t think she appreciated the gesture. The principal would usually just sigh at me  and shake his head, rubbing his temple like he had a bad headache.

"You again, Elle?" he would ask.

"Yep, Richard," I’d smile warmly. "It’s me again, Elle Edwards, your favorite student, and that’s really a very nice tie you’re wearing today." He never seemed to appreciate my compliments either.

He always huffed loudly, snatching my pink slip and pointing toward his office. Those meetings never ended well. Richard wasn’t much of a conversationalist. I’m certain that being a girl was the only thing that saved me from getting my backside paddled each week. I banged hundreds of erasers, dumped countless garbage cans, and probably set a world record for writing "I will not talk in class" close to a million times. I think by 6th  grade even Richard was clueless about what to actually do with me, so when my mother decided to pull me from school and homeschool me, Richard led the faculty and staff of Mt. Summit Elementary School in celebration. If elementary school was any indication, I shudder to think about the trouble my mouth would have gotten me into later had I been a "normal" teenager. Thanks to my mother, I’ve lived a very sheltered life, so it’s surprising that I’m still pretty outspoken and rarely back down from a challenge, which tends to get me in trouble more often than not. More worrisome for my mom is the fact that I’m also very naïve about most things, and I am the first to admit that it’s true. I’m sure Mom convinced herself that by keeping me so sheltered, I would stay away from negative influences, get my mouth under control, and refrain from repeating her teenage mistakes. She got pregnant with me at 16, and my obnoxious grandfather, who suffers from dementia, nearly forced her to marry the abusive, alcoholic excuse of a man who knocked her up. Fortunately, the SOB wanted absolutely nothing to do with being a husband or a father, so he was left with only two choices… 1. Run as far away as possible and get a new identity.

or…

2. Accept the fact that if he didn’t marry my mother, he would be mercilessly tortured then probably killed by my vindictive grandfather who wasn’t entirely stable.

As expected, he chose Choice 1, and as a result I’ve never seen or met him. I simply refer to him as S.D., short for sperm donor, since I don’t even know his name, and Mom refuses to even discuss him. I only mention him on rare occasions, preferring not to be bothered with someone who obviously could care less about me. You can’t miss what you’ve never had, so I don’t waste time worrying about him.

My mom kept me busy growing up with home school lessons and dance, so I had little time to get into any trouble. Several months ago, Mom physically forced me out of bed and drove me to the "Dance Factor USA" auditions in Memphis about 2 hours from where we live. I did NOT want to audition, so we had been fighting about it for awhile. I wasn’t trying to be difficult. It’s just that I had religiously watched the show for 5 seasons straight, and I was convinced that I wasn’t nearly good enough to match up with the talent I had seen on the show. Despite being outspoken, I have little confidence in my talent, and I constantly struggle with self-esteem issues. The honest truth was that I didn’t want to let her or my long-time dance teacher, Mrs. Parker, down. They both really believed in me…way more than I believed in myself. I love the performing part of dance but not competitive dance so much. Mrs. Parker has taken me to compete many times at local and state competitions, and most of the time I did very well. But, I always felt so anxious and nervous that I couldn’t enjoy the experience, and "Dance Factor USA" is in a league all its own. This competition is cut-throat, no doubt about it, and that scared the crap out of me. I think the thing that worried me the most is that despite my smart mouth, deep down, I’m really very sensitive. The intense and sometimes cruel criticism by the judges paralyzed me with fear. I tried my best to convince my mother that I just wasn’t cut out for the "Dance Factor"  competition. Mrs. Parker felt differently and convinced my Mom that she had to get me to the auditions, no matter what…so she did. On the drive there, I sat in angry silence, feeling like a baby bird whose mother had finally pushed her out of the nest, leaving her to fend for herself in a world of predators. Ironically, it became a very surreal experience beginning the first time I stepped in front of the judges…2 of them voted to push me through to semi finals, one voted no, and one just wasn’t sure but finally decided to vote yes after challenging me to "not let her regret the decision." That challenge pissed me off, so despite my fear I pushed myself hard each week, determined to show her that I belonged there. Even with my hard work, I was as surprised as I was grateful when every week I was saved from elimination and able to dance again. With each passing week, I become a little more hopeful and a lot more excited, unable to even think about losing. Winning this competition became the most important thing in my life, and I was determined to see it to the end. When I was voted into the Final Five, it began to look like that dream might actually become reality, and I convinced myself that I really had a good chance of winning this thing. Boy was I ever wrong about that...

Author's Note:

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story!  I know you have a lot of choices and I'm humbled that you chose mine!  Enjoy!

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