The callA Story by 12.09am “It’s over” “It’s over”. The sound of constant
monotone beeping echoes in my ears, twisting its way through the canals,
dancing like ballerinas with heavy feet and baby blue tutus, all the way along.
Their heavy feet make my head throb in sequence to the ache of my heart as if
they are in sync dancing to the same song.
The beep’s channel emotions I never knew I
could feel, the ballerina’s danced ever so heavily all throughout my body, with
poorly performed pirouettes and inconsistent steps. Starting from my ears, they
travelled in un-organized lines along the bones of my body, making them feel
heavy and weak. Their pointy pearl shoes so innocently failed to tip toe by,
alarming all my senses.
They played games of hide and seek in the
drawers of my mind, bringing up memories I wished to forget. They peeped in the
drawer called “ him”, playfully tearing out every item of clothing they could
find. They played dress up’s, dancing around in “him”, as much as I begged for
them to take it off and put it away they giggled and dug deeper into the
drawer. They soon tired and continued on their way, still refusing to take the
clothes off, scattering pieces of “him” all throughout my body.
I could feel them knotting up my stomach
with their long silver silk ribbons that they spun through the air carelessly.
They twisted and turned without instruction, sewing my stomach with their
needles and thread like a sewing machine on maximum speed. I felt the walls of
my stomach cave in, like some type of gravitational pull tearing the stars from
the sky. The ballerina’s continued their way upward, leaving behind the
presence of crying butterflies in my tightly compact stomach.
Making their way to my rib cage they
twirled for days, pacing along my bones like a never-ending path, wearing scratches
into my bones with their hard pointy shoes. Bouncing joyfully in my lungs they
had me grasping for air as their ribbons got caught twisted amongst them. Their
tutu’s scraped at the sides, making me cough and splutter desperately for
oxygen to soothe them.
They continued bouncing off the walls in
my throat, I could feel them swelling up there, out of breath and out of sync.
Their heavy footed tip toes turned into a fast run, all moving in an upward
direction too quickly to give a specific location. Before I knew it they
started pirouetting out of the tear ducts in my eyes, clumsily falling to the
bathroom floor. Not only had they flooded my thoughts, organs and eyes, but the
whole room. Their Baby blue tu tu’s, silver satin ribbons and pointy pearl
ballet shoes could be seen falling to the floor with heavy thuds as they fell
from my eyes.
I could still feel them frolicking inside
me, right down to my finger tips, making my frail hands tremor uncontrollably
as they made earth quakes strike throughout me with their heavy feet.
But nothing could compare to the way they
ferociously danced about my heart. Oh how they danced, so quickly, twisting and
turning in circles so fast it burned. Scratching at the sides of my heart with
their rough edged tu-tus and stabbing it continuously with their pointy pearl
shoes, making it ache an unbearable pain.
Unbearable. Nothing could kill the pain,
no heavy dose of paracetamol, no long nights sleep. It’s haunting, I feel their
presence when I’m awake, and in my dreams, more like nightmares.
They had me gasping for air to reach my
lungs and tearing at my chest begging for them to stop, but they giggled and
continued dancing ever so heavily. They danced in fairy like circles chanting
the echoing beeps of the ended phone call; they danced in circles so fast my
heart was going to burst. My heart wasn’t the only thing going to burst.
They continued to pirouette from my eyes
by the second, but there was no change in the state of my body. I thought that
they would eventually all wash out of my system, but despite the amount of
ballerina’s that danced from my eyes, the pain remained. Sharp, heavy and
constant.
I felt weak at my knees as they turned my
legs to jelly by wearing out their structure. I collapsed to the tiles,
crushing some of their baby blue tutu’ s beneath me, however more appeared,
falling clumsily into my lap, floating from my eyes on streams of silver
ribbon.
A pool of blue tutu’s began to form in my
lap, swirling in circles like ripples in water, with flickers of silver ribbon
they reminded me of the sea. I could still hear the echoing beeps, like sirens
calling me to the ocean.
I couldn’t drown out the sound; I couldn’t
flood out them out. I was feeling emptier by the second, despite the ache of the
ballerina’s presence. One day I know they will stop clumsily falling from my
eyes, maybe even tip toe a bit softer along my bones, they may eventually tire
of opening “him” in my mind, get bored of playing in the same memories, but
they will forever dance ferociously about my heart.
-
Something tells me that there’s
ballerina’s out there, within special people, who wear soft pink tu tu’s and
dance so gracefully that they soothe the soul. They are truly talented, lightly
walking about the structures of their home leaving behind the sweet scent of
freshly picked strawberries wherever they go.
I hear that if you come across a special
person who is filled with goodness, these ballerinas will grow inside you,
mending your wounds, stitching them up with their soft silk ribbons. Working
magic in your mind, twirling and turning ever so softly it feels like a
relaxing head massage.
I hear the greatest ballerinas of all
perform in the center of the heart, filling you entirely with warmth and joy.
They dance in sync and rhythm to the soothing melody of the beats, elegant,
postured and perfect.
I hope to find them one day, hopefully
they can teach my ballerinas a lesson or two, but for now the echoing call
remains, the ache of you leaving is still there, nothing will kill it right
now, but one day i'll find the soft footed, elegant and composed pink tu " tued
dancers and they will set me straight,
I hope.
© 2016 12.09amAuthor's Note
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