Dance Of Sorrow

• Niamh Noonan, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2020

“Jason?” Please. Please move. Say something.
I waited 10 tranquil seconds. And everything shattered. My world, my everything, fell apart. I couldn’t. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything. The tears came crashing down, and I spluttered while I screamed, fingers shaking. I cried for hours. I shrieked until my voice was hoarse. “Jason! Tell me it’s not true! ...Come back. Please.” I lay next to him, clutching his hand. I weeped until there were no more tears left in my bloodshot eyes. I felt lifeless and hollow. My heart was full of pain and anger and melancholy. It was like I had lost a piece of me. I stared into Jason’s beautiful eyes, glimmering green as the iridescent emerald feathers of a hummingbird. His dark hair rolled down in perfect waves, framing his pale, flawless face. Dark crimson blood soaked his shirt and my hands. Bloody claw marks and scratches, bites and bruises covered his neck and body. Once I had finally calmed down and my sobs had fully ceased, I took in our surroundings. We were in an eerie forest, lit by the silvery-white moon which was at its fullest tonight. It was almost glowing against the dark velvet blanket of a sky, dotted with pin-points of light. Suddenly a shadow fell over me. I whipped my head around and a tall figure loomed over me. It was a man and his features were… beautiful. He was beautiful, but in a dark, haggard way. He had long silver hair, mirroring the moon. Sharp cheekbones, and long lashes. But his most prominent feature was his eyes. They were black holes, with pure hatred radiating from them. At that exact moment, I knew it was him. He was the one who killed my best friend. I could see it in his eyes. I rose, about to confront him, but when I looked up again, he was gone.

I mustered up a smile and took my place on the stage. Nearly a year had passed since Jason was killed, but I still remembered every detail. I was at the International Dance Competition, Sydney. Jason should have been up here with me right now. We both loved dancing and had been climbing our way to the top for years. We even got invited to Internationals, and had been preparing for this moment forever. But now... I had to dance solo. I forced myself not to cry and promised to dance my best, for Jason. I had to make him proud. The music thrived through me, and I just moved naturally. I put all my anger, sorrow and happiness into my dancing. My loose copper-brown ringlets cascaded down onto my shoulders as I moved. Jete. Pirouette. There was no stopping me. I put all my passion and my whole heart into it. I looked up at the judges and saw a terrifying thing I hadn't noticed until now. The head judge. Long silver hair. Sharp cheekbones. Black holes for eyes. It was him.