Week 9 Part 5 (Thursday)

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     Three alarms go off simultaneously, scaring the crap out of us. We all start hysterically laughing after we shut off the awful sounding combinations of the alarms. Mom gets up too and starts the coffee pot.

     They're going back to their houses to get changed and eat their breakfast, but Hannah still brushes out her hair and I quickly cover up my cuts. We walk into the main room, pretending like everything is okay and I didn't have a near meltdown last night over a slice of pizza.

     "Everything went okay, kiddos?" Mom asks us.

     "Everything went fine. It was really fun," Hannah covers up, giving me a wink that goes unnoticed by Mom.

     I smile at her, grateful that she covered up that little incident. I push some hair out of my face before I hug them goodbye. I quickly change into some black dance clothes and a ponytail, and even though it's only 6:00, Mom hands me an Ensure and a Venlafaxine.

     "We gotta leave in ten minutes. Ms. Abby wants everybody early. And heads up, Ms. Abby gave me some information. Your solo is in a straitjacket," Moms reveals and I freeze.

     The flashbacks start coming back and I start shaking and start to feel really dizzy. I stumble onto the couch and curl up, trying my best not to cry. I swallow the Venlafaxine. You're lucky to have a solo, Lilliana. Stop crying and bitching and moaning. It's not going to do anything useful.

     "I can't pull you out. You have to win against Elliana. I think the best thing to do is to suck it up and do the solo. Now come on, you can have your meltdown in the car. Let's go," Mom says and she corralls me out to the car.

     "Mom, please," I whisper in the car, but she just ignores me.

     Why doesn't Mom care about the fact that this is going to be traumatizing for me. What if I have a panic attack during rehersal or onstage? What happens then? All the flashbacks are coming back from the time that I spent in a straitjacket. That was totally illegal and totally traumatizing. It made me hate hospitals, and when I walk into the studio, still shaking, I see Ms. Abby holding a straitjacket.

     "Lilly, you and your Mom go put it on and tell me how it feels. It's going to be used for your solo," Ms. Abby tells me.

     "Is it real?" I timidly ask, my breath shortening.

     "Yes. Now go put it on," Ms. Abby yells and we rush into the bathroom.

     I start sobbing as Mom looks up how to put a straitjacket. She glares at me to stop, but I can't. Stop being such a crybaby, Lilliana. Your mother is just going to get annoyed at you and she's going to yell at you.

     "I understand this is hard but think of it like this. You're getting over your fear. I don't like that you have half a body, but there's nothing we can do about it, can we?" Mom asks, and I nod.

     Mom gives me a hug and gives me a tissue before I start getting strapped into the straitjacket. I cry out sometimes in either pain or emotional distress. When I look into the mirror, all I see is my nine-year-old bulimic self.

     "You're gonna rock this Lilly-bug," Mom whispers and I smile.

     This thing makes me so hot and sweaty. I walk into Studio A, nearly falling a bit due to lack of balance. I see Ms. Yolanda talking to Elliana in the dancer's den and cameras around them. I ignore it and walk into Studio A.

     "How does it fit?" Ms. Abby asks and I fake a smile.

     "Tight, but I think I can make it work," I reply, my foot shaking a bit in anxiety.

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