Heartbeat

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
Story of a dancer, a line dancer, whose every movement impacts a life.

Would really appreciate comments and feedback! Thanks :)

Submitted: November 03, 2016

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Submitted: November 03, 2016

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Dance is a universal language, a form of expression and emotion, translating life into art, to convey the life of a person. This is why I want to dance forever. With it I want to feel the grace, the happiness, the empowerment. I want life flowing in each and every one of my steps, to have my movements produce music, infusing both my feelings and the audience’s to produce a flawless dance sequence.

I’ve always danced for this dream of mine, looking for that something. Or perhaps, someone? The connection to my audience motivates me to keep moving forward, to have us beat as one, to help me find new rhythms and frequencies.

Dance gives me a sense of connection: a link to the music, to the people around us, to our heart, soul and mind.

I wake up each day to enter a different dance studio, and each has a viewing panel for other people to watch. A concoction of emotions always seems to surface. Some people would be happy, bursting into joy and sudden euphoria. Others would look all tensed up, especially when I do a difficult dance step. When I fall, they would always pray and hope for me to go on. They want me to keep dancing, to pick myself up, to never stop doing what I do best, to achieve great heights.

This once, I noticed a guy through the viewing panel. Unlike the others, he didn’t seem to be watching my dance steps. Rather, he was occupied in his own thoughts, slouching against a pillow he propped up against the wall, staring blankly at the other end of the room.

I kept watching him. This boy was a sad, lonely figure who had somehow caught my attention. As opposed to those who run around and throw tantrums, he was shrouded by a dark cloud of emotions that I could not make out clearly. He shifted his gaze occasionally to different objects hanging on the wall, but his expression never changed. He only appeared stifled, as tears rolled down his cheeks every now and then.

I decided to change the music to something much slower, so I could keep up with his situation and with my own dancing.

He turned and stared at the calendar and there was some fancy notation on today’s date. It seemed as though his emotions had no other outlet but the tears that streamed down his face, before he finally let out some words, “it’s… my… birthd…”, trailing off at the end.

He finally turned to gaze through the looking glass, staring intently at me as I twisted and twirled. With every passing minute of enjoying my dance, he appeared livelier. I attempted a tour en l’air that mirrored his seemingly high spirits, but somehow, I couldn’t achieve the usual height.

However, he now seemed to be in a trance, his eyes batting as his eyelids started to droop. Something felt wrong. He forced a smile, before more tears welled up in his eyes once again, and he lowered his head.

He reached for the bottle of pills next to him, swallowing a handful rapidly.

He started gasping for air, and he seemed as if he was attempting to reach for the emergency button when he jerked over and collapsed onto his bed. Abruptly, he contorted on the ground, curling up and kicking everything around him as he spun out of control, losing energy along the way.

At this point, I started jumping out of beat. After each apparent repetition, I let out a scream, fluttering and doing an exaggerated pas de chat.

Afraid, I pranced to the viewing panel to see the smile fade from his face, to see the tears dry up, as he lay next to a stream of Quaaludes. He seemed like such a nice boy, the type I would have loved to talk to and persuade to dance with.

I moved slower and slower as tears stung my eyes, making me tumble and fall over onto the ground. I lost all direction and meaning to continue moving. I lay – flat – on the ground, sobbing over a person I never knew. It was just that one moment when we clicked, when I felt like I was a part of him.


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