Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
A whole damn week of biting my nails, watching my windows, and having an unhealthy obsession with the rear-view mirror whenever I’m driving.
I was supposed to take some downtime before I got back to rehearsing the upcoming ballet, but I’ve been on a rollercoaster ride worse than if we’d had consecutive shows.
On the surface, it might appear to be foolish paranoia. After he let me go, it may seem that I’m only obsessing over it because of the surge of adrenaline I experienced that night.
It’s not paranoia.
Far from it.
I’m not an idiot. I’m well aware that night wasn’t the end of it. If anything, it’s the beginning of something ugly I have no control over.
I debated with myself about telling the police, but I quickly shooed that idea away. I believed him when he said he’d know if I talked. I believed him when he said the consequences will be dire.
After all, I saw him murder a man in cold blood and not bat an eyelash about it. That sort of person is capable of doing worse.
To cement my theories, the following day, I rushed to the reception area after spending a sleepless night tossing and turning in bed. I asked the receptionist if something had happened in the parking garage, but he only stared at me as if I were a crazy old hag. I begged him to go down there with me, and when we arrived, there was nothing. Nada.
I didn’t expect the car or the bodies to stay there, but I at least thought there would be some blood, some bullets, some evidence of what I had witnessed.
However, the place was wiped clean.
The only thing that remained was a hint of the black tire marks, and even those weren’t fully visible.
I considered that my mind might have been playing a sick game on me. That’s what it does when everything gets to be too much. My demons come out to play and my subconscious goes to war with my conscious, torturing me with my own head.
But that couldn’t be possible in this situation.
I tested my pain receptors back then. I know it wasn’t a hallucination.
Point is, someone who can hide triple murders overnight can surely find out if I talked to the police.
And I wasn’t ready to sacrifice myself for justice.
I called Luca, though. Since I suspect the stranger and his men run in some sort of a crime organization, I thought he’d know something and tell me how to protect myself.
But even Luca has been MIA.
While it’s not strange for him to disappear off the face of the earth for months at a time, the fact that he’s not answering my calls or emails has only managed to escalate my paranoia and anxiety levels.
I can count on one hand the number of hours I’ve been able to sleep this past week, even with the aid of pills. My nightmares have been magnifying and spiraling out of control, and I had sleep paralysis and the fear of it left me in tears all day long.
If this goes on, I’ll backpedal sooner than I expected.
Inhaling a deep breath, I walk backstage. While everything else is out of control, there’s one thing that isn’t.
Ballet.
I’m wearing a snap-closure soft pink leotard and a short black skirt as well as my broken-in ivory pointe shoes. I usually wear them at home for weeks on end before I rehearse with them or use them in an official show.
They become more flexible with time and help me with going up on pointe, especially when I have a rigorous rehearsal—like today.
All of the dancers are on stage as Philippe and Stephanie talk about the choreography. Other dancers hate Philippe’s perfectionist nature, but I love it. He respects the art too much to let them slack off. Besides, Giselle was recently done by The Royal Ballet, gaining international recognition, and he will stop at nothing to top it.
That makes two of us.
Playing Giselle has been my dream since I first watched it as a little girl. I found magic and heartbreak in her story. Hope and despair. Love and death. I thought it was the most beautiful thing a ballerina could dance.
I had a chance to play in Giselle in my teens, but only as part of the corps de ballet. I didn’t get to experience that despair and live in the head of a woman so betrayed that she escaped in her mind.
That story hit so close to home and I need to experience it, to feel it in the very marrow of my bones.
I was the prima ballerina in Romeo and Juliet, Swan Lake, and recently, The Nutcracker. But Giselle? Giselle will be the peak of my career. Something I will tell my grandchildren about someday.
“Needless to say”—Philippe fixes all of us with one of his custom glares, his celebration mode long over—“I need complete and utter discipline. No gaining weight. No hangover faces. No breathing the wrong way. Slouch, and you’re out of my performance. I want to see des jolis postures all the time or I will bring dancers who will show it to me. Faite vite, allez-y!”