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CRAZY DANCER

CRAZY DANCER

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Chapter 1 Grace in Her Mother's Eyes

Word Count: 1297    |    Released on: 28/09/2024

rhythm of classical music floated through the air, blending with the sound of bare feet brushing lightly across the ground. Twelve-ye

with fluidity, and her eyes sparkled with t

d her mother, Evelyn James. She watched her daughter with awe, her heart swelling every time Li

ntly. "You're going to wear th

y but refusing to stop. "Just on

tea down and clapping along. "One m

k into motion, her pink nightgown flutterin

presence and words. Her father, Mr. James, was often away early handling business at

ed onto the couch, her hair sticking to her

from her daughter's brow. "You don't just dance. You speak with

hink I can become a re

st think so

e's heart like glue-warm,

early for once, joking about how burnt the roast was, though it was anything but. Lizzie sat between them, swinging her legs

nother classmate with your 'unstoppable force

cheeks flushed. "I w

med in. "As long as you don't end

oked at t

it," her father warned

back down. Life was

n... it

k, Evelyn complai

tor turned into a string of hospital tests. Lizzie was kept home more, ofte

called to ask Lizzie what m

o matter what," she al

romi

n the living room couch, her feet sore from practicing in si

call knew even befo

en people whispered condolences or said Evelyn was "in a better place." She stood li

t dance f

both of them curled on the living room floor. He kept whi

were neve

Year

her rem

thin lips and sharp, assessing eyes. She had two daughters, Tina and Mara, both a few years

er father was beaming. "You'll fi

ide hug. "And I'll take care of

breath at the back of her neck.

moving in, her r

music was removed f

worn slippers were t

ly. "It's not proper anymore. Dancing won't h

itch off her music halfway through her practices and pour water on her costumes.

of water and said calmly, "If you ever tell your father about t

odded, t

idn't

left early, returned late, and tho

isse would say. "Girls h

lieve

ht, when the house fell quiet, she locked her door, turned

e she felt like her

ars Late

r ballet shoes stuffed inside though she no longer had a studio

ges, inside old bus stops, or in

ops. There, music echoed from an old Bluetooth speaker she had hidden beneath a bench.

ure standing at the far e

he wall with headphones hanging around his neck. He had stopped in that alley

en he

stiff routines, and ego. But this girl... this

fire in her turns, and a despe

ke that, sh

lking home, crossing a busy junct

, and her books sca

she gasped, kneeling

help. "It's okay.

ds brushe

ced up. The

thing flickered in her c

shook

mumbled and

watching her disap

owed hi

we met

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