Reverie

Chapter 1: Change

Two pas marche, arms into first arabesque remember to lead with your elbows. Then a devant staying on top of your developpe. Shit I should check the time.

You look around the bright glossy floors of the empty practice room for your bag. Seeing your phone already lit up, ringing, probably your little brother.

You sigh loudly and walk over feeling the dull ache in your legs from practicing for hours, "Hey Eli-" "WHERE ARE YOU? Dude, we needed to move our stuff into the dorms like 2 hours ago." He interrupts while shouting.

"Oh, my bad I completely lost track of time, I'm at the studio." You mutter in response.

Staring blankly sitting down, consumed by the realization this will be your last time in this studio.

Where you walked in a curious seedling, watering yourself with incessant strain and the dew of persistence every day to grow into the bruised flower you are now.

You run your fingers lightly across the floor, as if the simple action will etch every memory into your mind, to be set in stone.

"You there?" your brother asks with a hint of concern bubbling into his voice, pulling your thoughts back from the depths.

"Yeah. I'll meet you at the house to grab our stuff and let's head to campus. So sorry Elijah" You respond sullenly.

"Right you sound like it, see ya soon sis." He says sarcastically before hanging up.

You didn't mean to sound the way you did, but you are simply not looking forward to moving boxes in the blistering heat of the end of summer.

You could also say having to let go of your life before it all changed so suddenly, but you push those thoughts into a lightless place in your mind.

You slip off your pink ballet shoes heading to the changing room and get undressed and into the clothes you brought.

A simple white top, soft athletic shorts and sneakers.

You grab your bag reaching into the front pocket to put on your necklace, then stuffing the ballet gear in before taking your hair out of the headache inducing bun and tie it back up in more comfortable loose bun.

You head to your car, a white Porche 718 Boxster. Thanks Dad, miss you. You think of him for a moment before pushing the memory of him aside for today, too much to do to get emotional.

The drive is only five minutes from the studio, so you don't bother turning on music, time for you to be with your thoughts.

Mostly thoughts of the way life has shifted so deeply the past year, or even just the past month.

Lost in thought and on auto pilot for the drive home you realize you're passing the large, decorated gate and pulling into our driveway.

You see your brother standing with his arms crossed while shaking his head at you, his light brown hair swaying back and forth with his motions.

You roll your eyes as you park and get out to greet him, the sun already heating your skin like tiny embers are nearing every exposed inch.

"I've already got all your stuff in the car while you've been at that stupid studio. You don't even have practice today, why did you go?" He asked as you both walked in the house heading towards your room.

"First of all, it's not stupid. Secondly, I was there because I have a big role in the upcoming performance, so I have to practice more than the others. Wait where's mom?" You question as you grab a box and pointing to others for your brother to grab.