Corpse Ballet

Ever since I was four years old, I would put on some cheap, pink, ballet slippers, an old, tattered tutu, and some gross, torn, tights I had. I looked like a mess, but that didn't stop me. I would climb onto my little chair and put my mother's Tchaikovsky record on the turntable with the volume all the way up and dance.

After years of training in Classical Ballet, I received my first pair of Pointe shoes. Excited and overjoyed for this accomplishment, my parents took me out to a fancy restaurant. The way there was grueling. The road overlooked a short cliff and raging river and the entire way, I looked out my window toward the water, hoping we wouldn't slip and die. When we arrived, valet took our car and we stepped inside. I only saw walls of white with dark green patterns printed on them, and golden trim; it was beautiful. We sat at table number thirty-three and talked aimlessly about ballet. I ordered pasta and we got a basket of bread; neither of us knew this was going to be our last meal together. As we cut around the bend, a truck with it's blinding headlights came ripping towards us and Dad swerved over the rail-less edge of the cliff.

Mom and Dad didn't survive the crash, and after a painful experience in the hospital, I went home with my aunt.

When I turned fourteen, I started having flashbacks. I would see running water stained red, doors ripped off of a blue Volvo, and shredded tires. I'd hear what I assumed was the accident - nothing and then everything. I could see my mother turning her head towards me, trying to yell but finding only silence. I could see my father, with his hands on the wheel and his face in complete shock from what he'd done. The only sound of the crash was the car rolling, acting as a meat grinder with everything in it smashing and tearing everything inside, and then the heavy splash as the Volvo collided with the raging water.

As the car began to tumble in the water, I unbuckled myself and crawled out. When I jumped out of the broken window, I felt the sharp glass mark me and I smashed into a rock. I was hauled violently by the river into more rocks, scraping my arms and fracturing my leg. I was finally able to reach the bank and pull myself to safety after a current pushed me into a pool. I expected my parents to crawl out just the same; I ran with the car, screaming for them, but as the car kept rolling and crashing, I knew that they were gone. There were holes in the back, the doors were ripped off, and the car slowly sunk to the bottom when the river became smooth. I stood there in shock, tears rolling down my face, pain in my tonsils from screaming, and then I crashed on the grass below me, and blacked out.

I'm nineteen now and I've been dancing a lot. After I got out of the hospital with a fractured leg, torn wrist, and terrible wounds, I went to physical training and started dancing as soon as I could. I am in a company in New York and this year we are performing Swan Lake. Because I am the Swan Queen, I get to go to the theater and rehearse on stage by myself whenever I would like to.

I strolled out of bed at 11 o' clock at night and went cruised to the theater. I made my way backstage into my dressing room and dressed myself in my White Swan costume. As I walked into the wings, I saw dancers and assuming it was the other girls practicing, I joined in on my queue. I closed my eyes and let the music carry me. As I opened my eyes to see where I was on the stage, I noticed the dancers were not the other girls. There was something wrong in the way they moved, and they all faced away from me. They moved almost like skeletons, their bones rattling every time they made a change in position. Their hair was gross; thin and unattractive, and as I started to bourée, they all turned combatively towards me and I realized I was surrounded by corpses.

Each of them did a different disturbing move towards me in sync. When they were all close enough to touch me, they clawed at me, hunched over, with long, boney, fingers. I was covered in bloody scratches and finally they stopped. They stood up straight and spun in a circle around me. Every three turns, they'd lean in and dig into my skin again, each one more painful than the last. Suddenly, after I cried for them to stop, another came out from the wings and they all disappeared into the darkness. The new corpse danced an extraordinary solo and lifted me up into the air with extreme force. I screamed and became paralyzed. I was now staring at my own Mother's animated corpse. Enormous black feathers began to grow out of her dry bones, forming into wings. She began to thrash us around, taking us higher and higher into the air. She looked at me with what seemed like a terrified look, and dropped me onto the hard stage. The other corpses came rushing out of the darkness and began to feed on my bloody, cold, and broken body.