Ballet Shoes and Open Arms

Listen to as you read: www.youtube.com/watch?v=N5kKen…

    Swift movements and gentle grace, that’s what it takes to land your place upon this dance floor, but one must make sure to do so with a just and even pace. That’s the rule in this university for every dancer involved; their legs rising into the air as they bend their will to reach the pinnacle of perfection in the art of ballet. If one is not careful with even the slightest adjustment to their balance or pace, they will surely fall behind the rest and be left with an uneven, distorted mess. “Bend those legs,” proud lady instructor Magdalen called from the side of the mirrored room, watching each of the girls closely and carefully with daggers for eyes, patiently waiting for the first of the group to make the slip. “Reach your arms higher,” she yelled again; the sound of her heels clicking against the floor filling the air with an almost chilling tenseness. Each of them prays for the other beside them to be the one that messes up so the woman will be pleased, finding her catch of the day to scold, banter and lecture, leaving the rest of the group of silently slip away unscathed and free to dance another day.

    The soothing sound of the piano played on and on as the girls continued to dance, silently holding their breaths for one of the others to fall as the music played throughout the large university’s grand and luxurious hall. Surely she can’t keep this game up forever, can she? A dark haired ballerina, Angeline, silently thought; doing her best to keep her balance and pace as she takes another deep breath to hide the look of anxiety and fear from the stern lady instructor’s face. Oh, how she too prayed that the old woman would give up this harsh, twisted game of hers, enforcing only the strictest and most rigid structure that this school has to offer, claiming to only accept the best and only the best to hold and teach within these very walls. Some of the girl’s fellow dancers complain that this place is nothing more than a sort of glistened bird cage; keeping them from escaping to an art form of their own creativity as it keeps them caged within its own cold, strict, rigid one.

    After when seemed to be like decades have gone by, the music coming from the silent pianist stopped as the lady instructor signaled for them to stop, allowing them to catch their breaths and bittersweet release from her cold grip and icy glare. “That will do for now, but remember girls, this upcoming semester’s exams will determine your place in this university, and whether or not you’ve earned the right to continue your studies. That is all, you are dismissed,” Lady Instructor Magdalen announced, picking up the small pile of papers and few folders she had rested on the piano bench. The girls all watched in silence as the cold hearted instructor walked out the door. The walls themselves almost seemed to be holding in their breaths in a heavy silence until the closing door behind the instructor closed with a soft click and a sigh of relief fills the air.

    ‘Oh, thank God, for a moment there I thought she was never going to let us stop,” one of the ballerinas sighed in relief, leaning against the cool wooden railing to catch her breath.

    “You’re telling me, it felt like she was going to stare a hole right through me,” another laughed sheepishly.

    “What about you, Angeline? How are you holding up?” One of the younger ballerinas asked with fair blonde hair, watching as the older girl fiddled with the bun she had her hair in; pulling out the hair tie and allowed the dark hair to come down like a pair of drapes.

    “With her eyes, for a moment I thought I was going to turn into stone at any moment,” Angeline laughed with a slight giggle, taking a seat on one of the nearby benches.

    “Haha, with the way you girls talk about her you make it seem like she wants you to screw up,” the pianist scoffed, shaking his head as he warmly smiled at their gossip.

    “You’ve known the witch for years now, Thomas! How old are you now? Twenty six? You of all people know what she’s like,” the first girl protested. “With her personality and those eyes of hers with the way she looks at us, I’d be amazed if she wasn’t waiting for one of us to screw up.”

    “Twenty five, thank you. Besides, I’d say you ladies danced beautifully today,” Thomas smiled charmingly as he nonchalantly gathered his sheet music one by one.

    “Thomas O'Brien, a flatterer as always,” one of the other ballerinas giggled as many of the others chimed in.

    “Thank you for the lovely music as always, Thomas!” Another girl laughed as the girls one by one began to file out of the room.

    “These lessons would be hell without your wonderful music!” One of the younger girls laughed.

    “Not to mention his gentlemanly charms and good looks!” One of the older ballerinas giggled loudly.

    “Hahaha, oh, you girls make my work all the more worthwhile, the highlight of my day even!” he laughed, smiling warmly, waving to them as they filed out as they left the pianist in silence.

    All except for one.  

    “Not going to run off with the rest of them?” The pianist asked curiously in a warm smile as his studied the dark haired, twenty year old ballerina as her small, fragile hands ran themselves down the side of her leg as her long, slim fingers undid the laces of her ballet shoes.

    She glanced up at the pianist and smiled shyly, turning her gaze in an attempt to distract herself from the pianist who watched her curiously from behind. Glimpsing back the smiling pianist, she felt herself giving into his usual warm smile and silent charms, soon finding herself returning it. “Sometimes I wonder how someone one like you can work in a place such as this and not go mad,” she giggles softly, walking over slowly towards the pianist. His smiled refused to fade, only flourishing with every step she took, closing the space between them a little more and more at a time.

    “What can I say? An artist must be willing to deal with the hardships of his labor if he is to bear any fruit,” he scoffed, soon taking a young woman by the hand and pulling her close into a rough yet gentle hug with a light tug, sweetly caressing her long dark hair with his hand. “You danced beautifully today,” he whispered to her sweetly in a deep sigh, sweetly kissing her forehead.

    “Oh? Only today? And here I thought I danced beautifully all the time. Don’t tell me I just started to get good at dancing, my dear Thomas,” she asked with a teasing smile.

    “Oh, why of course you dance wonderfully, my dear girl,” he chuckled warmly, “I just thought I’d do the honor of reminding you. I’d hate to see this swan go on and lose her grace from something as simple minded as a loss of confidence.”

    “Or so he says,” she replied with a teasingly skeptical look as she raised an eyebrow at the flattering musician.

    “You say that as though I speak with a silver tongue,” he laughed, loosening his grip on her as he lets her move back, staring lovingly down at the young ballerina’s dark brown eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, his warm smile soon fading into a look of worry as he noticed the downcast look in her eyes.

    “Do you think I can do it, Thomas?” She asked in a small voice, her eyes trailing to the side, staring at nothing in particular as the young girl usually does whenever she’s worried about something.

    “Do what, love?” He asked, his brows narrowing briefly in thought as he soon realized the source of her troubled expression. “You’re worried about passing the exam, aren’t you?” He asked, hitting the nail right on the head. She nodded silently in reply before staring up at him with a pair of moist eyes.

    “I try and I try my best every day to reach perfection, but with every passing day that goes by while I’m with her…I feel her eyes glaring daggers into me, Thomas. They practically beckon me to slip up, telling me that I’m no good and that if I even make the slightest mistake…” Angeline’s voice began to trail off into silence as anxiety slowly began to grow, flourishing with every minute as her heartbeat began to beat more and more rapidly inside her chest. “…What if I don’t pass, Thomas? W-what if...if I mess this up and fail the exam and the madam kicks me out of the university?!  W-what if I mess up a-and….a-and then…t-then everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve done will mean nothing and--” She began after a moment’s pause as her voice began to fracture and crack like glass held under pressure; the panic levels in her voice steadily increasing as her voice and body began to tremble.

    “Hey, hey, Angie...” he cooed, softly rubbing his hands up and down her arms to try and calm her down, trying to bring her whatever ease he’s able to provide her with. “Angeline,” he said with a firm yet reassuring voice, giving her a slight shake to get her to look at him. Cupping her chin gently, his cool, sky blue eyes met her fearful brown ones. “You’re a brilliant student and even more brilliant dancer,” he cooed as he gently stroked her cheek with his hand. “With how hard you study and practice I know that there’s a ghost of a chance you failing this exam. You’ve come too far after having gone through too much to let something or someone like Lady Instructor Magdalen bring you down now. You deserve to pass with all the effort you’ve put into making it this far,” he stated reassuringly, holding her face now tenderly in his hands, leaning his forehead against hers and taking a deep breath. “With everything you’ve had to get through to get where you are now, surely you can’t just like something like her be the thing that brings you down now.”

    “D-do you honestly believe that, Thomas?” She asked with a small stutter, swallowing hard as she tried her best to blink away the anxious tears that swelled in the backs of her eyes.

    “It’s one of the few honest truths I know,” he whispered to her in a gentle coo with a comforting smile as he softly wiped away her tears, brushing his thumb gently against her cheeks. “You’re going to be fine out there, Angeline. No…more than fine,” he added after a brief pause as he pulled her close and sweetly kissed her forehead. “You’re going to be amazing.”

    “Y-you always know what to say,” she laughed shakily between sniffles as she softly shook her head. “Yes, yes…I’ll be fine, surely…!” Angeline began, but stopped as she began to walk away slowly, but soon turned to Thomas, a look of uncertainty with hesitation heavy in her step. “But-“

    “Angeline,” Thomas interrupted, silencing her from going any further as he brought his finger to her lips, smiling warmly as he shook his head and continued. “I’m going to be there tomorrow, so if you find yourself slipping and need something to keep you on track. Just look for me and focus on that. After all, someone needs to be there to play the music for lovely young women like you to dance to. After all, what’s dancing without music to go with it?” Thomas asked with a tender smile, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs as he held her face softly within his hands. “Just focus on me and what we talked about, and you’ll do splendidly. I promise.”

    Angeline looked up from the ground and stared deeply into the cool blue eyes of the pianist, reminding her of the clear blue skies of summer when her father had first bought the girl her first pair of ballet slippers. Oh, how she’d dance for hours and hours on end, wanting to dance the days away while feeling as light as a feather and as graceful as a leaf in the cool summer breeze. Little would that same little girl know those pale pink slippers would only be the very beginning of what would lead her to where she now stands. She had begged her parents not long after that to let her take lessons, and although it would take a few more years of begging and reasoning, the little ballerina would get her wish at the age of sixteen when her parents enrolled her into the school. She knew the risks and what the constant practice and excruciating effort would do to her feet, causing her to go through numerous injuries from the occasional twisted ankle to the blackened toenails. And now after four years of constant hard work and effort, there stood the twenty year old ballerina now, more frightened than she’s ever been in years.

    She had been fine with this sort of thing in previous years, so why was she so scared now? Was it the thought of making a mistake and the thought of perfection slipping out of her grasp that scared her? Or perhaps just simply the thought of that dreaded feeling she and many of the other girls felt when Magdalen stared daggers at them? Either way, she was uncertain of what fate would have in store for her on the dance floor tomorrow, and it made her feel uneasy with an unpleasant feeling in her gut that failed to pass.

    “Go get some sleep, Angeline,” Thomas said as the sound of his voice calling her name as it brought her back from the haunting labyrinth of her thoughts and anxieties.
Nodding silently with a reluctant sigh, she smiled softly and lightly pecked the pianist on the cheek before backing up towards the door slowly. She began to walk out the door, but stopped suddenly just as she’s about to leave and turned to the pianist one last time. “Thomas,” she said in a small voice as he began to collect his things once more.

    “Yes?” He asked, turning to look at her once more.

    “…Thank you,” she said with a gentle smile as she shared at the pianist.

    “You’re welcome, but for what?” He asked, feeling that everything he had told her was what he felt to be merely stating obvious.

    “For-” she began, but quickly cuts herself off as she paused to clear her voice, thinking of what she truly wanted to say to Thomas, the talented pianist, dear friend and reassuring companion. He had been there to lend her a shoulder to cry and lean on since the two had first met when she had come to this academy three years ago. He was the only one in this school who she could ever be truly able to call friend in this place; the sweet summer sunshine that bleeds in-between the bars of this gilded birdcage. “Thank you…for everything,” she said warmly with a tender smile before leaving the pianist alone as he watched her leave the room, leaving the pianist alone with only his music to keep him company.

    The pianist leaned against the slick, black grand piano, smiling widely as he softly chuckled at the ballerina’s words, a tingling warm fluttering around restlessly in his chest like a canary trying to find a way out of its gilded cage as it loudly sings its bittersweet melody. Although Angeline and many of the other girls may never understand why he has stayed here for so long, the lone pianist knew the reason why the caged bird sings.

    However, upon the day of the exam when everything was set and seemed all right, let it be disaster that that rears its ugly head and make the atmosphere turn bitter and any sort of hope that day fade contrite. As to what happened exactly, not everyone was sure, but just when all seems well assured and success is just in reach, in a split second it all just slipped away. Angeline had done as the pianist suggested and she looked to him at the piano when she needed it, and everything had been going smoothly, just as the pianist promised it would. Though, with just one sudden wrong misstep and loud enough crack of the girl’s foot, all of that hope and optimism that had been building her up had suddenly been sent crashing down around her; causing the graceful swan to fall from her skies of dance and bittersweet melodies. Upon her fall from grace, a sudden snapping sound chilled the air, bringing the bittersweet melodies from the pianist to a halt as sudden cries and screams for the fallen swan soon took their place. In that single moment, Thomas could have sworn to have felt his heart momentarily stop and all of the warmth and light from his face fade into paleness as he left his seat and quickly ran to the injured girl.

    Not wanting to risk even a second of time, Angeline was rushed to the nearest hospital with the pianist grasping her hand as he gently stroked her hand, whispering reassuring words that kept repeating over and over, “It’s all going to be okay, Angeline. It’s all going to be okay...”

    However, everything was not okay, not for poor sweet Angeline. The doctors did all that they could for the ballerina, forcing the pianist out of the room to play the dreaded waiting game; making him pace up and down the halls so many times he lost count ages ago by the time the doctor had stepped out and into the hall. “How is she, doctor?” Thomas asked frantically with a thick layer of sweat covering his brow from the constant pacing and anxiety, grabbing the doctor’s shoulder suddenly. The doctor stared at him with mixed look of shock and surprise as he noted the state the dark haired man was in, unable to help but notice that he was shaking.

    “She’s going to live, if that’s what’s troubling you,” the doctor began. “Her injuries were quite serious, but with enough time given to heal she will be back on her feet in no time.”

    “Oh thank God...” Thomas gasped in a deep sigh of relief as he released the man, turning from the doctor as he ran his hands down his face, breathing in and out in a series of deep breaths.

    “However, as for Miss Angeline Campbell’s dancing career...” the doctor began with a deep sigh as he pushed his glasses closer to his face, making the pianist suddenly stop in his tracks and turn to him. 

    “Yes? What about it?” Thomas asked in a raspy, near breathless voice. However, the longer he stared at the man and studied his face, the more his mind began to slowly piece together, making his heart sink in realization. “What about her dancing career, doctor?” Thomas asked anxiously as his body began to tremble and shake once more, not wanting to accept it even though his mind had already put two and two together. “Please! Please tell me she’s going to be able to dance again, right? R-right?!” Thomas asked again as the volume in his voice began to rise louder and louder as he grasped the man again, shaking him slightly as the fear and frustration inside him began to build more and more; hot angry tears beginning to swell up in his eyes as he shook his head. “N-no....n-no...,” he choked between sobs as he shook his head, slowly letting go of doctor’s coat as he began to fall to his knees, leaning against the wall for support.

    The doctor turned to him and exhaled deeply as he turned to Thomas and placed a firm yet gentle hand on his shoulder. “Her injuries were quite serious as I mentioned previously, Mr. O’Brien. She suffered quite a serious fracture in her leg right around the ankle. If anything, she’s lucky with the odds of her being able to properly walk again with the state of that leg,” the doctor said, clearly trying to sound sympathetic. “Although, I cannot say for certain if whether or not she may never dance ballet again or any kind of dance form in general, but I can say this. See to it that she’s taken care of and loved. Chances are that fate won’t be too kind in letting her be able to dance ballet as she once did before, and something tells me she won’t be able to take it as easily as perhaps some of us hope she would. If you’d like, I could inform her-”

    “No,” Thomas interrupted suddenly as the he interrupted the doctor in a shaky breath as he shook his head, swallowing hard in an attempt to drive away the pain and tears away. He couldn’t allow her to see her like this. His smiles had been the thing that made her feeling warm and safe with that gentle, reassuring tone that everything was going to be okay. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for her injury, feeling as though his confidence of his acted as some sort of jinx in the girl’s fate. “I’ll tell her,” he said, taking a deep breath before heading into Angeline’s room. When he walked inside, quietly closing the door behind him, he found her lying in bed while staring out the window with a vacant stare. “Hey…,” he said in a soft, barely audible voice as he slowly approached her bed and taking a seat in the chair right beside her.

    Angeline looked to him as she turned from the window and smiled softly, though only to reveal the swells of tears swimming in her eyes. “Thomas...” she choked slightly as she tried to speak between gasps, likely trying her best to keep herself from crying. He could tell just from looking at her that she most likely already knew what he came to tell her about. Not knowing what to say to soothe her aching heart, he sat himself onto the bed and opened his arms, soon wrapping her in a warm, gentle hug with his grasp around her slowly growing tighter and tighter as she began to cry. “Thomas,” she said again, this time between sobs, “my leg…it’s true, isn’t it? I…I won’t be able to dance again…I’ll be thrown out of the school and…I…I won’t be able to become a ballerina…Oh, Thomas…” she cried again, burying her face into his neck as she hung onto him for dear life as if all else depended on it.

    The pianist remained silent as he softly ran his hand up and down her back while holding her in his warm embrace, momentarily cooing and hushing her softly, whispering sweet nothings in an attempt to help quell her burning tears. “It’s alright, love. I’m here,” he whispered to her softly as he was sure to hold her close as she continued to cry into him, not caring about the growing dampness on the surface of his shirt. “Hey…what’s this?” He soon asked as his eyes began to narrow, soon noticing it to be a freshly opened envelope addressed to Angeline. From what he could tell, he guessed it must have been from her parents or something.

    “I-it’s…” Angeline began, but soon stopped as she wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. “It’s a note from the Estate,” she continued in a calmer, yet still shaky voice. “One of our caretakers, Seamus, brought it by a little while ago. It’s about my parents.”

    “Oh? Have they been informed of the accident? I mean, I’m sure they of all people would graciously understand this sort of thing. I mean, you can always go back to your parents. I mean, they love you to bits from what you’ve told me and--” Thomas began, but soon stopped as Angeline started crying once more and shook her head near frantically.

    “Thomas…! My parents….t-they’re…” she began in a trembling voice as her body began to shake as she stared at the dark haired pianist, “…dead.” Without another word from the injured girl, the pianist felt his heart sank as any remaining optimism in his features or voice soon drained along with what had been the remaining color in his face.    

    “W-what? How? W-what happened?!” Thomas asked shakily that seemed to resemble more of a breath than near speaking at all.

    “According to Seamus, mother died about two months ago from a serious case of pneumonia. While father…h-he died from a head injury he had gotten after falling off his horse while out on a hunting trip, probably looking to distract himself from the pain from mother being gone…” Angeline slowly explained, swallowing hard as she did her best to hold back the pained sobs as she shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the hot sting of the tears.  

    “And...the estate, what about that?” He asked, a part of him fearing the worst while already knowing the answer.

    “Gone…it’s all gone. I-it went up in flames after lightning struck the house about two weeks ago. No one was home at the time and by the time it was made aware of...it was too late,” she replied within a soft hoarse voice as she shakily looked up from the pale white bed sheets as tears of fear, sadness and confusion poured down her cheeks as they flooded her eyes. “W-what am I to do, Thomas?!” She asked in a trembling voice as she tightly gripped the bed sheets in her grasp. “Where will I go? I have no family, no home…W-what will become of me?” The pianist didn’t say anything as he thought for a moment, softly biting the nail of his thumb as he pondered as the poor girl wept. This poor little injured bird with no one or nowhere to turn to. All alone with broken wings and broken dreams with chances are that she may never be able to take flight once more as she did before.

    No…No, she wasn’t alone. There was no way he could ever leave her like this, scared, broken and alone at this point with on one to call friend. Could he ever dare call himself a man if he just left her there to go on her merry way like the others who had once stood so graciously did not too long ago before? No, because he wasn’t going to be like the others who had left this poor creature to fend for herself like this for his own selfish desire. No, because he cared about her. No, he loved her, and even if she may very well never feel the same way, all he wanted was to see her smile and be happy like she always was. As long as she was happy, it was all that could ever matter. “Angeline,” he said, gently caressing her cheek and softly wiping the hot tears from her cheeks with the gentle swipe of his thumb, smiling sympathetically as he leaned in and kissed her forehead tenderly. “Please, don’t cry…” he begged softly as she hung onto him, leaning her head against his chest as she listened to him. “Please…don’t think you have to do this alone. Please…let me take care of you,” he whispered compassionately with a warm, tender, almost begging smile as he cupped her chin and swallowed hard, “that is, if you’ll let me.”

    “T-Thomas…” she gasped softly, blinking away any remaining tears as he soundly held her while gently wiping away her fears and woes one at a time.
“Let me take care of you, Angeline Campbell,” he said again with a slightly louder voice, practically begging as he went on. “Please…I can’t bear to see you suffer like this. Please, let me take care of you, please…”

    The young woman opened her mouth to speak, but stopped as she looked up to meet his eyes with a wobbly smile, trembling slightly as she wrapped her arms around him once more. “Yes, yes, please, please do, Thomas! Just don’t…” she began as her voice began to trail off.

    “I won’t,” he replied, already knowing what she wanted to ask by the look in her eyes, fearing the very thought of being left alone. “I won’t leave you alone, not now, not ever. You couldn’t make me even if you asked me to,” he chuckled softly as warm tears began to slide down his cheeks as he held her.
“Thomas, you’re crying,” she said.

    “How can I not? I-I’m…I’m just so happy!” he exclaimed as laughed between sobs, the two of them soon laughing happily between tears of joy and pain. “Let me be the shoulder for you to lean on when you need it most. Let me help carry your burdens. Please, allow me to take care of you, my dear sweet Angeline,” he asked in a soft breath, leaning his forehead against her own.

    “I will, but only if you’ll allow me to do the same for you,” she asked, returning the same expression to the pianist.

    “In time, perhaps, but for now, just let me be the one to take care of you,” he asked as he soon released her, kissing her forehead sweetly as he lied her down in bed and softly leaned in and kissed her. “I love you so much, my fair, sweet Angeline,” he muttered softly, making the young girl smile as she stared back up at him as she gently caressed her hand down his cheek.

    “I love you, too, my dear Thomas,” she breathed softly as she allowed the pianist to tuck her in and softly kiss her lips and forehead before drifting off to sleep as the sound of his tender loving melodies sing softly to her as she danced to them in the company of her dreams.

    Once able to walk on her own two feet again, Angeline and her darling pianist left hand and hand together; both hanging on tightly to the other as he led her back to the quaint little house he had just outside the city with a fair amount of country land. Although unable to live out her childhood dreams of dancing on stage as a ballerina with her old ballet shoes and tutu, this was as fine a replacement as any for Angeline; often sitting in the pianist’s living room as he’d play her his sweet melodies. She’d ask the pianist if he had ever once regretted agreeing to take her in like he did. He’d look up at her and smile as he shook his head and laughed warmly with a tender smile, “I’d have to be madder than a hatter to not fall in love like did when I met you. Besides, if I left you there, then who’d be there to possibly return the favor and take care of me?”

    Although the girl wouldn’t be able to dance ballet again as the doctor had said, it never stopped her from a little dance here and there in the arms of her darling pianist as he took her in his arms; the two of them wanting nothing to forget their troubles and their woes and dance softly together throughout the years to the beckoning melodies of the pianist’s music.