In The Shoes Of A Ballerina

Chapter 4

 

                Gabby continued. “They call her names – freak, crazy, lunatic.”

 

                She saw from her peripheral vision when her son took a deep breath.

 

                “Why?” Her curiosity kept on pestering her about this poor little girl.

 

                “They say she talks to herself, that she pretends to be talking to imaginary people.”

 

                And it clicked on her. She almost lost control of the car when a pedestrian crossed the road while the traffic light signaled, ‘Go’. “Shit!” She didn’t realize how long she’d been honking until her son called her attention.

 

                “Mommy.”

 

                “I’m okay, honey. Are you?” She looked at him for a second, and reassured him with a smile.

 

                Dea saw him nod.

 

                No matter how she ignored it, Dea was seeing herself in the shoes of the poor little girl her son told her about. She experienced being called a freak by the kids her age for talking to Cassiel.

 

                Cassiel, she thought. She hadn’t seen him for years. No. She had forgotten all about him when she got in in Eleganté again, since she had everything she had ever wished for in its right place – her career and her family.

 

                She let out a sigh. She decided she’d apologize to him that night after she put Gabby to bed. Dea owed Cassiel a lot. How could I forget the only person who was there through my ups and downs?

 

                While she cooked for Gabby who was in the playroom which was just adjacent to the kitchen, Dea saw Cassiel sitting on a bar stool become visible.

 

                Cassiel still sported that messy flaxen hair. He was looking at her blankly; he wasn’t accusing nor greeting her right that moment.

 

                Like the dish she was cooking, her insides boiled with happiness she couldn’t contain that she ran toward him, and embraced him so tight. “Cassiel!” she said to the top of her voice. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

 

                She felt his torso move up and down, and in sync with the harmonious tone he breathed out near her right ear. “Like I could hold any grudge against you, little Andrea,” he said while playing with her hair.

 

                Just when they released their hug, a voice said, “Mommy?”

 

                Eyes wide in shock, she faced her son; Cassiel was suppressing a laugh through pursed lips. “Yes, honey?”