Shadows

“Breathe, Carson. Breathe.” Eden says looking into my mirror.
She doesn’t understand.
She doesn’t understand, this isn’t her first big performance in God knows how long.

I breathe in.
I breathe out.

Dear Lord! It’s hot in here.

The lights around my mirror are making me sweat.
My nerves are making me sweat.

I hold the eyeliner in my hand.
I hold the eyeliner in my shaking hand.
I hold the eyeliner in my shaking hand, trying to steady my hand enough to apply the makeup.

“Sweetie, put the pencil down. I’ll take care of it.” Eden laughs.

Eden is calm.
Eden is calm, one of us has to be.

As Eden does my makeup I just keep thinking.

Vivian is going to be here.
David is going to be here.
Lily is going to here.

They’ll be watching.

Alicia will be watching.
Valerie will be watching.
Stephanie will be watching.

Alicia will have her fingers crossed that I twist my ankle.
Valerie will be repeating ‘screw it up, screw it up’ the whole time.
Stephanie will be silently staring, waiting for the second I throw it all away with one mistake.

These girls are rooting for me to fail.
These girls are rooting for me to fail, they trained for four years.
These girls are rooting for me to fail, they trained for four years to have the role of Black Swan taken.

Taken by a freshman.
Taken by Carson.
Taken by me.

I’m getting dizzy.
This is too much.
I’m getting dizzy.
The room is spinning.

“Carson! Breathe! Jesus, calm down. You’ve done this at least a trillion times. You’re going to do great.” Eden says with a smile, brushing blush across my cheeks.

I nod my head.
I nod my head, she’s right.

I’m going to do great.
I’m going to do great, I’m going to be the greatest Black Swan this school has seen.

Take that Alex.
That that, wherever you are.

&&

Under the lights, I’m blind past the stage.
Over the music, I’m deaf to all other sounds.

Then it happens.
Then it happens, I’m not Carson anymore.

I’m a swan.

Swans don’t have ankles to break.
Swans can’t hear other girls rooting for them to fail.
Swans don’t make mistakes, every move they make is lyrical and beautiful.

I can’t see other girls glaring at me.
I can’t see anything really, I just dance.

&&

The last time I received attention for dancing I was eleven.

Not even then, did I have so many people wanting to meet me.
Not even then, did I have so many people wanting to talk to me.

Strangers gave me flowers.
Strangers gave me praise.
Strangers gave me advice on what to do next.

Which instructors are best, which schools I should transfer to, which companies I should stay away from, where I should spent my summers.

It’s too much.
It’s too much at one time.

I smile and nod.