We Give Our Hearts to Fate

Chapter 4: Marina

Warning: Mentions of child abuse, panic/anxiety attack

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I was born to devastation.

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Accident worthless nothing murderer ugly weak untalented bother useless trash unlucky evil disgusting killer nobody foul dumb she's the one to blame ruined broken it's all her fault she'stheonetoblame monster it'sallherfault kill her hate her scorn her purge her

YOU ALWAYS RUIN EVERYTHING

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"The only one that ruins everything is you." Her words are clawing at the back of my mind as I wake up screaming. Immediately, I stifle my screams. Staring at the door, I expect him to walk in any moment and tell me that I'm too loud. I can feel the white scars on my back burn in fear.

When my tensed muscles finally relax, it's not gradual. All of the sudden, my body flops on the bed, having given up. I stare at the ceiling, unable to move.

I'm exhausted and I want to sleep. But I can't sleep. If I fall asleep, he'll come back.

So, I decide to just stay awake. I have to go to dance practice this morning and then rehearsal this evening. So, instead of sleeping for a few hours more, I choose to just wake up at four in the morning and clean my house, even though I know it won't do anything. No matter how many times I clean it, it's always dirty. Permanent marks never seem to wash off.

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When I see Celeste at ballet practice, she starts walking towards me and my whole body goes rigid, expecting a violence I haven't felt in years. Fortunately, Milo grabs her arm and takes her aside before she reaches me. He must say something to her because she leaves me alone after that.

I suppose that Milo's always been protecting me. He's more of a father to me than my actual father ever was. He's always been there to take my burdens onto his own shoulders, even though he has enough problems of his own to deal with.

Thinking of my family, my mind wanders back to the people I left in Russia. I haven't had contact with my father in years.... I also haven't had contact with my disowned brother since my father forbade us from seeing each other or even calling each other on the phone.

"Miss Sokolov!" An angry voice shouts. Startled, I quickly turn to the ballet instructor and ask, "Yes?" The middle-aged woman narrows her eyes at me and asserts, "If you're not going to pay attention, then you shouldn't be here! If you think that you're better than the rest of us and that you 'don't need to practice' then you should leave right now."

I'm stone. I can't breathe. I can't move. I can't think. What do I do? The eyes are staring. Staring. Staring. The voices are whispering. "Prissy. Dumb. Thinks she's better. Bitch. Not even that good. Arrogant. Horrible dancer." The voices scream.

"My apologies," I hear a warm, familiar voice say, "She's probably just tired. We went out to eat last night so that we could celebrate and it got kind of late." I let my anxiety sink into the comforting rumble of Milo's voice. It reminds me when we would get a randomly warm spring day after a long snowy winter in St. Petersburg. The ice melts for a little while, bringing promises of summer.

"Well," The dance instructor concedes, "I don't know why you didn't just say so. Ballet while exhausted leads to injuries. You two need to go back to your houses to rest. I expect you back here after the lunch break. Though I expect you to never come here tired ever again, do you hear me?" I manage a shaky nod while Milo says, "Thank you so much, Mrs. Washington." He then walks over to me and I feel his warm hand lightly grasp my arm to lead me away.

"And Mr. Lehmann?" The dance instructor asks, stopping us in our tracks, "Do not speak for this girl again." Milo grinds out a quick, "I'll keep that in mind." And then we're moving again.

Milo doesn't even ask me to change out of my clothes. He just sits me down in a chair, takes off my pointe shoes, and puts my flats on in their place. Then, he asks me to wait for a second and I do obediently. When he comes back, I see that he's changed into sneakers and has thrown some jeans on over his tights.

Then, Milo helps me to my feet and ushers me outside to his car. I look out the window and realize that he's just driving me to his house. After a little while, everything kind of fades to a blur and the next thing I know, I'm lying on Milo's couch. My head's in his lap and he's gently running his fingers through my hair. I then realize that there're gentle voices talking above me.

"—be okay?" "Yeah, she'll snap out of it eventually, but... I've only seen it this bad one other time. I... have no idea what Celeste said to her last night, but it made her remember being a child, before she left for Vaganova Academy." Before Dakota can say anything in response, I sit up and Milo's hand pulls away from my head reluctantly.

"Hey, Marina." Dakota greets gently, "Do you want me to get you anything?" I just kind of stare at their face until I realize that I'm shaking and state, "I'm cold." They just smile at me and stand up to get some blankets. It's then that I notice that I'm not wearing my leotard anymore. I'm wearing a baggy t-shirt and some sweatpants with the drawstring pulled tight, though I don't remember whether I was the one who changed into these clothes or if someone dressed me in them.

When I'm piled in blankets, Milo assures me, "We've still got a few hours before we need to leave for practice. Why don't you take a nap?" Without even looking at Milo, I shake my head. I can't sleep because if I sleep, I'll see father.

Milo sighs next to me and says, "Alright, but promise me that you'll try to sleep tonight. You can stay in our guest room if you want." I snap my eyes to him and nod quickly. Smiling, Milo says, "Okay, we can pick up your things once rehearsal is done. And... Marina... just remember that I'm always here for you. If you have another attack during practice, just let me know and I'll take care of it, alright?"

Then, Milo whispers in Russian, "You're not alone."

I smile and close my eyes, keeping the tears at bay. I don't have to fight alone anymore. I guess that moving to America was one of the only good choices I've made. I sure am fortunate that Milo will be with me every step of the way.

For once, I'm actually looking forward to the future. These next few months that I have in the Nutcracker may be the best I've ever had.

I'll never know until I live them to their fullest.

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A/N:

This just keeps getting worse and worse.... Well, I'll add a time skip and Marina seems a little better so maybe I can make the next chapter happy??? We'll see. I think I've got like 2 more sad chapters in total, and the rest will be a little more upbeat.

My goal is to finish this by the end of the school year so that I can write another dumb sports/competition story about cross country simply because I was salty over the fact that there's like one track sports anime and I want something about cross country because there's actually a heck of a lot of drama that happens. Anyway, I want to write that during the summer so that I can write a summer romance after I write my winter romance.

I apologize for probably getting Marina's panic/anxiety attack totally wrong. Again, I was too lazy to do any research on panic attacks or to actually put in the effort of making it realistic.

Also, I am not trying to show that anxiety or PTSD is healed if someone supports you or if you find love. I'm trying to show that Marina is actually really strong and isn't weak and now she's determined to give ballet her all again, just like when she was a kid.

(I just found out how to italicize and I will be going back to my other chapters to add italics.)

(Update: It won't let me go back and italicize stuff. I hate Wattpad.)