Alvah has a new ballet teacher

"I am quitting!!! Dad i can't do it anymore. The others are mean. Calling me names. And i just get angry and dissapoint everyone. Because someone will get hurt and it won't be me. But i will get the blame of everything."

Sitting down i cross my arms and won't move. To bad i am short and dad can just lift me up. He carries me with my ballet bag to the car. All the while i glare at him.

Why does he stay so calm... isn't he upset the others are picking on me?

"You just want me gone from home that you are forcing me! You are so mean! Don't you care they are calling me names and being mean?"

With a quivering lip of anger i look at him.
That fatherly look he has appears on his face again.
"There will be worse things in life, dear."

I don't know why but that kind of talk always makes me more angry. He doesn't know that!!!

I hiss between my teeth.
"I hate dancing. I never want to dance again."

And now dad has the audacity to laugh.

We drive to the dance school all the while I have said nothing more. Dad as well has been silent.

He opens my door and gestures to go inside. I already see the other girls of my dance class. They are giggling, pointing and trading glances to me.
Meaningful i look at dad, he again gestures to go inside.

Grabbing my bag i drag my feet inside. Today we are starting a new class. We will have the headmistress of the school. It is said she is mean and hits students with her cane.

It is the same as always the remarks, throwing things, dropping my shoes or clothing in water. So funny.

In class things go well enough. The teacher is strict stern harsh but she is good. It is clear she has a love for dance and alot of experience.
Halfway the class i actually turn a liking to her.
Untill we practice pas de quatre from the swan lake. Since i am one of the smaller dancers i am on one of the sides.
It goes well we are in sync. And then they trip me. This was not me i felt her foot hook my ankle. The high pitched giggles and laughing only pisses me off more.
When getting up i stand hunched over ready to pounce those little bitches.

The cane of the teacher bangs on the floor.
"Again! Fenna keep you feet yourself"

See she saw it even. She is not going to say more.
I am angry, mad, furious!!! It is clearly visible in my dancing she replaces me with Mina. The teacher points to the barre. So i am downgraded to practising the movements.

Class ended and i want to go change but the teacher calls me.
"Miss Chambers, stay."

I turn and wait. Again a cacophony of annoying giggles. Clenching my fists i just feel the rage build.

A moment of silence, it seems to take ages.

The teacher sits at the piano and plays a little melody. She looks at me, i shrug.
"Miss Chambers. The routine if you please."

I roll my eyes but when she starts playing i do what she asks. My heart is not in it i am so very angry. My movements are harsh and abrupt.

"Stop. Breath, again."
A sigh but i listen. The result is the same.
We do this several more times.

I then just scream and drop on the ground angry tears roll over my cheeks.

The teacher looks at me raised eyebrows.

"Are you done feeling sorry for yourself. Miss. Chambers. "

She walks over to me and taps that cane on the floor again.

"Yes, you are angry and want to act on the emotions. But you are smart enough to know if you do that you ruin your own chances and not theirs. Do you ever listen to your anger, to your rage? It is not harsh and sudden it is like a wave. Flowing graceful and strong. Like a storm picking up. Carrying the fallen leaves around with ease.
Those girls will get what is comming to them. But you need to show that you are in sync with your anger. Use it to carry those girls like the dead weight they are. Use it to drown out their remarks and antics. You my girl are a forxe of nature to be reckoned with."

She walks back to the piano and starts playing
"Again!"

I don't know why but her words reached me. Anger should not control me, it is a part of me... i can use it as naturallt as my body takes a breath and use the air.

It is slowly but surely going better and better.
Nigel picked me up the first time and the teacher told him, to tell my father i will take an extra hour class for specialty lessons.

We continued this for a while she taught me to feel the music and become one with it in movements. To use my emotions as my strength.

A bit more then a year later she told me that she was going to retire but would be there at my first big ballet performance.
And i think she actually was. Though she was gone before i could speak to her.