The Chemistry With My Science Teacher

The Black Swan

The Black Swan

Here I am. Lurking in the wings of the stage. I spread my arms like they're my own wings and hopefully I can fly, fly, fly away from this situation before I fall again.

Contestant number twelve has just exited the stage. She's pointing her toes, making her slim, olive skinned legs look even longer than they already do as she walks out of sight of the many, many prying eyes of the audience.

Someone with a clipboard behind the stage ushers me forwards, and I realise it's me, it's my turn to brave the stage. I don't have any wings. I can't fly away- which means I'll have to stay put and perform.

Momentarily, the stage lights dim, only to illuminate again, seemingly brighter than ever. "Alright everybody, please welcome to the stage contestant number thirteen, performing 'the black swan'," I hear the announcer say, and my entire body feels like it's vibrating with nerves. I feel my knees are going to give way.

Suddenly, I hear the music of my routine beginning, the dark thudding beats, the dramatic violin and drums, and for a second I don't move. Then slowly, my feet begin leading me out onto the stage.

I roll my head around, bending forwards and bringing both my hands to my shin, before standing and spreading my arms like wings.

Realising my face is probably painted with worry, I force a wide smile onto my face. But then I realise the mood of the music and my outfit doesn't really suit a smile, and I drop it, my panicked expression regaining the spotlight on my face.

I do a few twirls to kill the time, afraid to really start my routine, and reluctantly I head for the nearest pole to me, and decide to just stick to that one, because the idea of moving between the two on the stage seems to fry my head.

I twirl around the pole and I'm vaguely away of the audience clapping, although I don't know why. I'm static on stage, I know I am, but I just don't know what to do.

Slowly, I place a hand out on the pole, and as my hand wraps around it I realise it's thicker than the ones we rehearse on, meaning my grip doesn't feel as secure, and my nerves are making me sweat.

Regardless, I can hear that I'm already at the middle of music piece, and I haven't even done any tricks yet. Closing my eyes, I do my first spin around the pole, and I'm relieved to find I make it the whole way around.

I do another twirl, my confidence grown from the success of my other spin, and so I do a combination of two spins around the pole, not originally in my routine, leading to a cheer from the audience.

My music is nearing its end, and I realise I have to climb the pole for the final trick, my big closing piece. Slowly, I place my feet on the pole and haul my body up to the top. I manage to do it and hold my first pose, but I realise it's time for me to do the move that made me fall on my face.

At the top of the pole, I pause, looking out into the audience, moving my arm like a wing in a feeble attempt to continue this farce routine of a bird to try and buy myself some time before I have to do the move.

I feel my heart drop out of my chest when I see Robb in the audience, our eyes meeting, his face the exact expression I prayed I'd never see.

I realise I have twenty seconds left on my routine, and I launch into the move, completely unprepared. For a second I manage to hold it, before I feel my grip slip. I tumble onto the mat, landing painfully on my ankle and hearing it crack.

I rearrange myself on the mat so I don't look as messy, but I finish my routine out of sync with the music, which fades several seconds after I stop moving.