Wednesday 7 December
Sooo, we got our results back from Saturday’s competition. And what a horror show they turned out to be. Mrs Kennedy stood in front of the class like some kind of female dictator. I swear she was pleased that the results were so bad. Eyelashes were up to number 10 on the scale of flashingness.
She kept on and on and on about how SOMEBODY’s arms were bent, that SOMEBODY’s toes weren’t even pointed. Like it was this big drama.
We all knew who SOMEBODY was, oh yes. I had to stop myself from shouting: ‘I know you’re talking about me, I’m not doing this on purpose – I try the hardest I can to do what you ask me to, I just can’t do it. I’m not used to it, I never will be used to it. Please leave me alone’. But I didn’t say anything.
It was so unfair on Mushira and Anya. All they did was the best they can do, and Killer Kennedy was making them feel awful about the way I danced, as if it was all their fault. And then I got to thinking. These horrible thoughts kept unfurling in my brain a bit like a rope that’s been coiled up and let loose over the side of a boat. Round and round went the same thoughts as she was flashingaway: why should I just keep doing this? I’m letting the other girls down. I don’t fit in here. And then I kept repeating over and over the same question in my mind: ‘Why am I doing this?’, ‘Why am I doing this?’ And I couldn’t think of a single reason why. And so I left. I just walked out, left the dance room, left Killer Kennedy and left Irish Dancing. If they don’t want me then I don’t want them.
Besides, Irish Dancing is just for kids. I go to flashmobs, I’ve got a (sort of) boyfriend with a Vespa, I’m not a kid and I don’t want to be treated like one, thank you very much.
It feels brilliant that I never have to have KK flaming at me any more, AND I don’t have to feel like I’ve let down the others. So, if anyone cares I feel fine. I’m sure Mum and Dad will understand this when I tell them. I ran all the way home. What a relief. No more Killer Kennedy.
6:30p.m.
Saw Murphy after dance class. Unfortunately there’s no way he can do Saturday because the competition finishes on Friday and he wants to post the flashmob almost live so NOONE can copy him. Oh well, looks like we’re back to Plan A.
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Aisling's Diary
Tínedžerská beletria**Watch the Webisode of each chapter! On Mobile, Go to Info or click the thumbnail if you're reading on the web!** I'm Aisling and I moved to Dublin, Ireland from Boston Massachusets which is kind of weird because I thought I was coming home but act...
