A Little Secret

Ring Ring! It was time for the next period and even though it was only fourth grade, we still had to transition between classes. I groaned. I hated walking - it was hard work. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and walked to my next class - the library.

It was hard to fit into a world where you were not allowed to strain yourself. I was a wiry girl and really tiny for my age. My mom originally wanted me to be homeschooled but after endless wars, disputes and days of the silent treatment, it was finally compromised that I could go to school but not do anything physical; I get my mom was trying to protect me, but I could not suffer my whole life just because I had a wooden leg.

Actually, it was not time for library, it was supposed to be time for dance class, and as usual, I was not allowed to go there. “You’ll break your leg,” my mom always warned me when I was younger, “big demons will tear them off in those rooms”

Sometimes in the night she used talk to my grandmother about my leg when she thought I was asleep. She used to keep talking about how she didn’t want me to go into depression about not being able to lead a normal life like others, and miss dancing. Mothers are so irrational - How could I miss something I had never even seen, it was supposed to be torturous anyway.

I frowned remembering her warnings. Demons didn’t exist and that meant my mom had lied to me. We always had a thing about lying in our family; none of us was allowed to do it. My mom had done it. I wondered what else she could have lied about. I stopped walking, lost in thought, what if dancing was not actually dangerous? I came upon a rash, impulsive decision. I walked back to the room I had just passed and stared at the golden plaque, curious - THE DANCE ROOM. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

I gasped with delight as a soothing melody reached my ears. This was the senior’s dance class. The teacher paused the audio and turned my way, not saying anything when I wiggled up against the wall. I guessed that she heard about me from the other teachers.

“3… 2… 1...” she restarted the audio and the girls began to dance along to it. I was mesmerised. The girls were dressed identically in black leotards, pink flats with sheer pink stockings, they also had buns.

Their translucent silver skirts flowed with them, encircling them like radiant halos. They moved like one being, graceful and elegant, strong and beautiful - just like what I wanted to be.

I looked in the mirror and saw a stranger staring back at me. She was a thin and wiry girl and she did have only one leg - but that was the only thing in common. She radiated happiness, exhilarated from witnessing her very first dance - it was perfect!

She stared back at me trying to tell me something that I understood crystal clear.

This dance would be my little secret. Maybe I cannot dance but at least I could watch it and since my mother was never wholly truthful to me, it would not be considered a sin if I hid this from her.

By-Kavya Pothapragada