Continuous Story Writing Essay

I saw her lying on the floor in a pool of blood, her eyes still opened but rolled back. My sight of her became blurred, I noticed after awhile. Wet, hot tears were starting to roll down my face. I could not catch my breath. My body quivered, I was beginning to fall. The last thing I remembered was a tattered book lying on the floor a few centimeters from her hand. It was a bright sunny Friday morning. The birds were singing, rays of sunshine shone into my room and the air was fresh with a tint of rosemary and pine. March the 15th, the day of my ballet recital. Today will be the best day of my life, I thought dreamily. I made my way down the stairs and was greeted by my mom with a wide smile on her face. A sumptuous breakfast was laid out for me. On the table were my favorite peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, scrambled eggs, hotdog tortillas and a cup of refreshing orange juice. I took my time to enjoy my breakfast and when I was done I made my way to my ballet studio, excited to start my day. â€Å"One two three, one two three, twirl and smile, one two three, one two three..† 26 graceful ballerinas were dancing and prancing, smiling sweetly back at me. Each move we made were precise and synchronized. I couldn’t help but glance at my gracefulness in the crystal clear mirrors. This was my time to shine. I gave a finishing double pirouette and the famous swan lake pose as the closing to my ballet recital. That smell of cherry blossom lip gloss and fresh roses filled the room. You could feel excitement, joy and nervousness all at the same time in the atmosphere. Ballerinas were busy having their make up done, their hair nicely done up into a tight bun, going through their steps in their minds all at the same time. Every performer had glitter on their faces, but the glow that was radiating from their faces was what made them exceptionally beautiful on this very day. In just a matter of an hour’s time I was going to be on that big, wide, cold stage. I was going to be speculated by hundreds of people. The thought was almost too overwhelming for me but thankfully the thought of my mother being there in the audience comforted me. I was going to make my mother really proud. I was determined. â€Å"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Grace ballet studio’s annual ballet recital. Please take your seats and prepare yourself for the long-awaited swan lake adaptation by our very own ballerinas,† announced the master of ceremony of the evening. I was getting butterflies at that moment. I opened the curtains ever so slightly just to see if my mother have arrived. I scanned and scanned through the seats but she was no where to be found. â€Å"Jolie, hurry, it’s almost timed!† I was pulled by the hand and brought to the position where I was supposed to enter from behind the thick red curtains. â€Å"Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you have all been waiting for, please welcome the shimmering ballerinas of Swan Lake† With each step I took, each movement I made I pranced and danced gracefully on the wide stage. The spotlight was mine for a little while and then my friends came in through the sides of the curtains and joined me. All 26 of us compliment ed each other with every move we made. Our first act ended with never ending applause by the crowd. They loved us! During the intermission I got changed into my second costume. This time I had a tiny tiara on my head. Everyone’s makeup was redone and everyone was so hectic that I didn’t even get the chance to take a peek through the curtains to see where my mom was seated. I took a deep breath. â€Å"I can do this. Mommy will be cheering me on.† I stood up, straightened my costume and got ready for the second act. The smell of roses, that dazzling smile on my face, together with the standing ovation my ballerinas and I have earned was the perfect ending to my ballet recital. I was on cloud nine before i realized I had not seen my mom and I don’t see her anywhere now. I was beginning to worry and at the same time I was angry. Angry that she stood me up. We waved the audience goodbye, took a group picture and everyone helped to clean the place up. Everything was done and the place was spick and span. I went backstage to pack up my things soon after. Adele’s voice flooded the room and I immediately dug for my phone, an unknown number. â€Å"Hmm, who could that be?† I thought. â€Å"Hello. Yes, this is Jolie Schubert. That’s right. What? What did you just say? Alright, I’ll be right over.† There I was, standing. Quivering. My mother was lying there motionless. My mother had not come for my ballet recital not because she had forgotten, but simply because she couldn’t have come. The forensic investigator covered my mom with a long white sheet and began sobbing uncontrollably. Just then my father came through the door, he too was weeping, weeping for his beloved wife. It has been exactly one week since the passing of my mother, there was no doubt that I was still pretty sore but I knew life had to go on. Today I am going to receive my most outstanding ballerina award. Although my mom is not here to witness me receiving this very award but I just really want to thank her for all the support she’s given. This is for you, mom.