HELENA’S POV
I remember the first time I went for dance show with our aunt Mirabella, my mother’s ditsy younger sister whom my mother liked to refer to as untamed but in all honesty she was just very carefree and wild, always drunk and her hair always flew wild. I remember that night she had taken myself and Vivianna for a swan ballet show and it was my first time seeing ballet in real time. I was mesmerized, what fascinated me the most was the way they turned and spiraled around on their toe. How could human beings do that? I would wonder. I was curious, I wanted to do it, I wanted to dress up in that pretty dress and stand on one toe while my face shone and my hair sparkled.
“Mama, mama. I want to be a dancer just like the girls in the show” I had screamed my mother’s ears off the moment we got home and she shot her sister a wiry look, but Aunty Mirabella already had her nose deep in a glass of wine.
I didn’t rest until two weeks later when she had gotten tired of my whiny and enrolled in a ballet school as an extra curricular instead of soccer practice which my father had intended.
It was ballet all through my life until I was shipped off like cargo to be married off to Dante D’angelo and I had let myself go just until I moved to Paris and I realized how much I had missed it, how much I wanted to make a career out of dancing ballet but everything got ruined with the sound of that gunshot.
***
At first, I didn’t feel it because everywhere had fell deathly silent. I could hear the mechanic beating of my own heart in my ears, or maybe it was Dante’s because he was screaming at me, but I couldn’t hear the words that were coming out of his mouth just the sound of my heart roaring in my ears.
Then I felt it, white hot pain searing through my hips , it burned through my bone and radiated down my legs and that was when everything came through I screamed.
“Fuck!” someone yelled, I wasn’t sure who but I tried to keep my focus on Dante’s lips who kept begging me to stay with him. It took me a little while to realize that I had been shot.
It all happened so fast, I seeped in and out of consciousness. Bright white lights overheard, people speaking French around me, the buzz, the clattering of feet, Dante’s face constantly in my view.
“I’m going to kill I swear, I’m going to fucking kill him” he kept saying but internally I was trying to bite down on the pain that spiraled down my legs but I nodded still, whoever he wanted to kill, I didn’t think I had it in me to care.
“We’d have to take her to the operating, you have to wait out here sir” I heard someone else and soon enough, my vision blurred, my brain buzzed and everything fell into a dark void.
Just then I found myself in a dark room, it looked like it had no walls just a mass of darkness with no end. I was dress in the same swan dress I wore for my first ballet performance and suddenly I found myself on a stage overlooking thousands who didn’t seem impressed, they had dull eyes and face seemed to remain in a permanent grimace, their hands folded across their chest as they peered at me waiting for me to dance.
“Dance” somebody yelled from the crowd
“We didn’t pay all these tickets to watch you stare at us dance you limp – headed fool”
How was I supposed to dance when they were all yelling at me, how could I dance with no music? And just I thought of it, the slow symphony of music boomed across the room and then I lifted my legs to dance but it wouldn’t move, it wouldn’t lift off the floor and when I looked down there was blood pooling at my hip, a gunshot wound searing through.
“Dance” some one yelled even louder.
“She can’t dance, can’t you see lost her leg” a feminine voice boomed from the crowd.
I began to panic, my heart speed and my forehead perspired, the sweat dripping unto my face. I fell to the floor as I could no longer hold myself up.
“Get her off the stage she’s useless. We need real dancers”
“I’m a real dancer, I can dance you’ll see”
“How are you going to dance with no leg” they echoed back and just then I could see two men dressed in rough leather jacket and skinny jeans marching towards me, I tried to inch back but there was not much I could do with only one leg
“Look at her” one of them said with amusement in his eyes “She’s never going to be able to dance again.
The other one began laugh, a slow evil maniacal laughter that brought me intense creeps that my eyes shot open immediately, and a ceiling loomed overheard in my vision.
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and opening it again to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. There was a constant beep sound that annoyed me and when I tried to move, someone rushed to my side.
“Helena” he said. It was Dante, with a well beaten up face and I paused to think. What the hell happened? Where the hell am i? I tried to trace my memories back and suddenly everything started coming back to me. The flight to Paris Julien the hotel room Dante missing when I woke up the gunshot my terrible dream.
The panic began to creep in again.
“My leg” I whispered “My leg the gunshot are you okay?
“Helena” Dante pushed me softly back to the bed “You’re fine”
“No I got fucking shot by an vengeful ex boyfriend I’m not okay and then I had this really terrible of where I no longer had a leg”
“Your leg is right there Helena injured but it’s there”
I decided to relax back on the bed with a deep breath. “Are you okay?” I managed to ask.
“You you took the bullet for me Helena” he said “Why?”
I stayed quiet, not knowing what to say but deep down I knew the answer, I just didn’t want to sound weaker than I looked weaker than I felt.
“Consider us even for the gas station” I blurted out.
He was about to say something else when the a female doctor walked in, her lab coat buttoned up to the last button, and when she saw me awake she smiled.
“Good to see you’re up?” she said “Let’s pull out your xrays now and take a look. I have reviewed them earlier, we’re just going to brief you on everything” she said, she had a slight British accent.
“The surgery went well and we had to put screws in your hip because the bullet had done quite a damage” she said and I nodded “but with physical therapy and rehabilitation, everything should be looking good in six weeks”
“But how are you general?” she asked again “Any pain? You’re still on painkillers from the iv so I’m not expecting you to feel any pain”
I shook my head “Can I ask a question” I couldn’t shake the feeling of the dream I had had earlier.
She nodded at me, still peering at my x rays on her ipad.
“Will I still be able to dance ballet?”
She looked at me suddenly “You’re a dancer?”
I nodded.
And then she gave me a look. I knew that look, I understood it and just then I felt a sharp pain in my leg.
I didn’t need words, I already knew the answer.