A Dancing Dream

• Lorin Humbler, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2018

I kicked away from the desk as I crumpled up the piece of paper and hurled it with such force that it knocked the bin and the contents fell onto the floor. I grumbled as I struggled to pick them up from the floor. I stomped down the stairs and sat down at the kitchen bar.
“I need to talk to you Cierra” Mum declared.
“So do I, you go first” I added.
“You need to get a job.”
“I want to become a dancer”I announced.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“You know you’re never going to become one!”
I grumbled as I limped up the stairs and dived into my bed, pulling the sheets over me. I looked downwards at my crutches and mechanical leg and frowned. Slowly, a plan formed in my head.
“I would run away!”
I searched Google and with luck, I found a dance concert poster, for tonight! I stuffed bolsters down my blanket, put on my hat, then coat and tiptoed to my brother, Jack’s room. I tugged his arm.
“We’re going to a dance concert!” I declared.
A grin spread across his face.
“Let’s go!”. He jumped out of the bed excitedly.
At the concert, there were many different dancers. This had to be the best night of my life! We left early so that no one would spot us. I limped home ecstatically down the street and through the hole in the back fence. “Thanks” we both added simultaneously.
We both rolled on the bed, laughing hysterically. He jogged back to his room and I read Mao’s last dancer, my favourite book.

The next day, on the bus to schooI, I was recalling last night’s events and decided that I wanted to become a professional dancer. I would do dance lessons instead of school!

After school, I took a quick detour to the ballet theatre of Moscow and signed myself up for a class. I limped home gleefully. Every Tuesday, instead of school, I went to ballet lessons. My mechanical leg helped me to turn twists, pirouettes and plies. I wrote my own absent notes, with different excuses every week. I trained to dance more gracefully, more accurate and better. Finally, I was offered a place in Le Spectre de la rose. At the last rehearsal, I was practicing my leaps when my school teacher came along, supposedly for a tour. I tried to hide, but couldn’t, and froze. Her serious, cold eyes stared through me. She grabbed me by the collar and dragged me outside. I began to cry, but she patted me on the back and to my greatest surprise, she said “Great Job! I never knew you were a dancer!.” She promised that she would come to the concert. I grinned. I can still remember to this day the time I had that night. We received the biggest applause and I met a most surprising friend, Mrs Nikolaev.