Page 7 of Ruinous Need
The last time I tried to perform… I don’t like to think about it.
She squeezes my hand. “Nothing to apologize for, child.” She still calls me that, as though I’m still the sixteen-year-old shesaw the potential in. Instead, I’m a 21-year-old failure who’s only surviving in this brutal city on the back of her charity.
Marianne farewells me with a kiss on each cheek. “Don’t stop on my account. Bright and early tomorrow, darling.”
The spell is broken. I can’t keep dancing like this, with my heart pounding against my ribcage and my muscles tense.
I trail my hand along the barre as I walk back to the changing room.
Marianne’s interruption has made me uneasy. It’s the first time anyone’s seen me dance for years.
I rinse off the sweat in the dance school showers, then lock up the studio.
My old dance teacher is harmless and kind. But her eyes on mine brought back flickers of those other eyes, icy blue and merciless, which made me wish I’d never set foot on a stage.
I force away the unsettling memories of that night.
A shiver runs down my spine, not just from my still-damp hair in the wintry cold. It’s the sense that my fate is near.
I haven’t had to pay the price yet. But I will.
On the train home, I’m still on edge. I try to concentrate on the music playing through my headphones as the city rushes by. Normally it’s enough to keep me calm, to stop this familiar spiral, but today it won’t relax me.
Needles of cold fear lance through me.
When I step off the train, the back of my neck prickles.
I put my head down and walk fast from the train station towards my parents’ home. It’s cold enough that my breath forms a cloud in front of my face and I’m careful to watch for ice on the sidewalk.
The suburban street lights are not doing much to cut through the darkness of the winter night. Frosted cars line the sides of the street. It hasn’t snowed recently, but the night has the same quiet stillness of deep snowfall.
On some impulse, I glance down into a wing mirror and notice two shadowy figures just behind me.
That can’t be real. I’m just anxious, my body going into fight-or-flight mode because of Marianne’s interruption.
I cast a glance back over my shoulder in disbelief, but sure enough, they’re still there.
Real and getting closer.
Everything slows down. My heart pounds in my chest.
I freeze, my head spinning. We’re only a few feet from my family home. I pray that whoever is following me doesn’t know that. I glance at the mirror again, and they continue to advance.
I watch in silent horror as one of them meets my eyes in the wing mirror where I’ve paused.
All I can do is stand there, my eyes glued to the wing mirror, as he advances towards me. He shrugs back his hood. An awful scar mars half of his face. He’s so close now that I feel his breath on the back of my neck.
He’s reaching for something in the waistband of his pants. But he’s too slow.
I bite my lip in case I let out a gasp and give it away. He hasn’t seen the other, faster shadow advancing behind him.
The one at the back inclines his head as though telling me to shelter.
I don’t know why, but I do. I scramble round the front of the car and get down as low as I can in front of the number plate.
From this position, all I can see are black boots passing over the ground. A soft bang rips through the night. I’ve never heard it before, but I’ve seen enough movies to know this is a silenced gunshot.
I tear out my headphones hoping to hear something else, to understand what’s going on, but there’s nothing to listen for but the dull thud of a body hitting the side of the car before landing on the pavement. No screams.
