A/N This is my firts book you guys, sorry if it sucks. Let me know what you think. Thank you for reading this :) Comment please? :D
PROLOGUE
My mother would always tell me to do what I loved. She wasn't one of those "i-know-you-have-a-dream-but-you-need-to-finish-school-first" moms. She would tell me the godhonest truth. I wanted to be a singer for a while, when I was 7, untill I sang for her and she dropped on one knee to look me in the eyes while saying : "Annabelle, that was good. But it wasn't professionally good. I'm sorry." It broke my heart at the time. I know you must think her cruel, but she wasn't. I know now that singing for me was never an option and that's ok. I'm fine with it now.
So when she told me I should pick up dancing as a hobby I was hesitant. I mean, if I wasn't a good enough singer, what were the odds of me being a good enough dancer? I know, can't a 7 year old take a hobby, without taking it seriously? The answer is yes - but not for me. I have this urge, this passion to always be the best. In everything I do. So if I was to take up dancing as a hobby, I damn-well knew I wouldn't quit untill I was.
So I trained for 2 years, untill I invited my mom to my recital. After 2 years of dancing I wanted an evaluation. My mom would give me an honest one. I was very nervous at the time, because if I wasn't good enough, I'd make myself quit. But I fell in love with dancing. So it would tear my heart to pieces if that was the case. I had strange logic - but hey, I was a ten year old child that had a must be the best attitude. Cut me some slack.
After the recital, my mom came up to me and I waited, nervously biting my lip. Again, she dropped on one knee, and searched my face for a long time. I had an awful feeling at the pit of my stomach. Then she smiled. Her colour blue eyes, the eyes I inherited, sparkled. She said: "Annabelle, this is it. You were born to be a dancer, this is your calling continue with it. I'm so proud of you, I promise you, you will go far." I was the most happy 10 year old alive at that moment. Nothing could ruin it. I could continue with my passion. I loved my mom so much it was unreal.
Two weeks later, she died. And part of me with her. I was distraught. She was hit by a drunk driver. Killed on impact. My mother who was one of the most honoust, kindest, serious people I knew, was gone. Forever.
So I danced, and danced and danced to keep my wallowing depression at bay. I was gonne be a professional. For her.