The Porcelain Ballerina
Deep breath. The rushed flurry and excited chatter of set designers, costumers, and ballerinas surrounds her. She, a delicate young girl, sits in front of the dressing table in a soft robe. Gingerly, she lines her eyes in black and pats fine silver glitter onto her tired lids, which no amount of repose could restore. A coat of mascara, a dusting of powder, and a swipe of lipstick form a mask under which she hides herself from the harsh stage lights. Her beauty was created to be enjoyed by the world. With a small sigh, she leans back, and allows herself to become immersed in the bustle of the backstage world.
She is beautiful, ethereally so, but a sense of abandon echoes within. The outlines of her bones under her colourless skin build a celestial machine of a creature, waking at the first crack of dawn and retiring later than the moonflower blooms. Her heavy lashes close, and her exquisite fingers trail down toned legs that once held all the grace of a gazelle. She stops abruptly, and her heart slowly sinks when she feels flesh turn to plastic. Cherry lips part and unwilling eyes open, as if woken from …show more content…
She is seated in the front row of the theatre, alongside the company’s dutiful patrons. In the sea of crinkly-eyes, the youth she exudes renders her an outsider in her own realm. Their glowing faces were once set upon her; faces alight with wonder as she, the prima ballerina, would grand jeté across the floor. Only when the snap of bone and the thud of her falling body echoed painfully, did their gapes reflect terror and not awe. The thought sends tears rolling down her hollow cheeks and glittering orbs plunging into her dress. Men and women seated nearby glance from the stage to her with mild interest, and in her mind, she pleads, screaming for the ignorance she once found so
Deep breath. The rushed flurry and excited chatter of set designers, costumers, and ballerinas surrounds her. She, a delicate young girl, sits in front of the dressing table in a soft robe. Gingerly, she lines her eyes in black and pats fine silver glitter onto her tired lids, which no amount of repose could restore. A coat of mascara, a dusting of powder, and a swipe of lipstick form a mask under which she hides herself from the harsh stage lights. Her beauty was created to be enjoyed by the world. With a small sigh, she leans back, and allows herself to become immersed in the bustle of the backstage world.
She is beautiful, ethereally so, but a sense of abandon echoes within. The outlines of her bones under her colourless skin build a celestial machine of a creature, waking at the first crack of dawn and retiring later than the moonflower blooms. Her heavy lashes close, and her exquisite fingers trail down toned legs that once held all the grace of a gazelle. She stops abruptly, and her heart slowly sinks when she feels flesh turn to plastic. Cherry lips part and unwilling eyes open, as if woken from …show more content…
She is seated in the front row of the theatre, alongside the company’s dutiful patrons. In the sea of crinkly-eyes, the youth she exudes renders her an outsider in her own realm. Their glowing faces were once set upon her; faces alight with wonder as she, the prima ballerina, would grand jeté across the floor. Only when the snap of bone and the thud of her falling body echoed painfully, did their gapes reflect terror and not awe. The thought sends tears rolling down her hollow cheeks and glittering orbs plunging into her dress. Men and women seated nearby glance from the stage to her with mild interest, and in her mind, she pleads, screaming for the ignorance she once found so