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Rain started pouring outside; I stopped in my routine and looked out warily. The rain drops on the glass walls are making their way down creating lines of waterlike tears leaking out. The dark, gray sky loomed looking bitter and scary aslightning crashed, illuminating the dark world outside, and deafening thunderboomed loudly across the city, killing all traffic and city noise for a second.“Sophie, wee can’t afford you to be distracted. Now focus. ” Madam LaCouierinstructed in her mildly accented voice, shaking me out of my reverie. Feeling ratherflushed, I resumed my dance practice, though still seeming a bit distracted. I keptmy face blank all throughout the session, the thought of home pricking everyneuron in my brain. My lithe form, covered with a light layer of sweat, danced intime to the beat; every step, every turn, every leap perfected, I feel the sense of relaxation and peace that dancing never fails to bring me, it takes me out of realityand into a world of fantasy. All my worries and problems, leaking out of me, like aplug pulled out from a tub full of water. I knew the routine by heart now and I’vedone it perfectly again, well, maybe except for the little distraction, but all in all, itwas perfect, as was all the practices I’ve had since this morning. The music finished,as did I with a flourish. I sank down to the hard, cold floor panting, too tired to standup. Madame LaCouier’s slender form pranced to where I was, her shawl wrappedaround her tightly to block out the cold as I now realize how freezing it had gone inthe room. I looked out and saw that it was dark now.“Keep zat up and wee weell almost ‘ave a good chance at ze gold. Sametime, same place.” She said, rather disapproving of the distraction, and headed forthe door. I waited a little more inside the studio; I hear her car start and the soundof gravel rumbling under the moving tires. After catching my breath, I stood up andwent to gather my things, all the reality crashed back on me, including all theworries and the problems. I pulled a shirt over my practice outfit, pulled on my skirtover my tights and laced my white Manolo’s , which were a gift from my stepdad,propped up a little and went out in the dark, wet porch, wishing I brought my carwith me today instead of having my mom pick me up. well, I didn’t really expect astorm. I took out my phone and dialed my mom’s number. She answered after the3
rd
ring.“Hello,” she said“Hi, Mom, it’s me, can you pick me up? I’ve got a little problem with raintonight,”“Oh, okay, wait for me in front of the studio” she said and hung up. I got outand locked up the studio. I sat there in front of the giant doors and waited for mymom’s car to show up in the driveway. After about five minutes of sitting there, therain was beating down hard by then, and it was really dark, not to mention cold, theblack Cadillac showed up. I ran straight to it and got in quickly, hating to be in therain. I shivered once and turned the heater high; it was really comfortable inside.Mom backed out and we headed home; through the wind, through the rain, I feltlucky I did not have to commute home; the weather was furious. The streets of 
 
downtown New York City was still bustling with activity even though a storm waspassing through it. People carried big umbrellas and a lot of the people wererunning around in the rain, trying to hitch a ride home. I laid my head on thewindow, still feeling a bit tired from today’s session. I mean, ballet might look easy,but it is anything but and this session was the most intense yet. We arrived home afew minutes later. I really never got tired of looking at the place. We live in an estatein the Hamptons, technically, we moved in after mom got remarried and all. I lovethe place, from the iron gates, which gives the place a slight gothic look, to thegravelly path, the freshly manicured lawns, down to the small pond in the middle of the lawn and the gazebo rih=ght in front of the house. It was beautiful in a way. I allbut fainted the moment I got in, James, our butler, technically, John’s, was alreadythere to help me with my things. He’s been with John, my stepdad, ever since Johnwas a kid. Well, you might think our family is more on the well-off side of life, well, just since Mom got remarried to an awfully rich guy. You might be waiting for somemy-step-dad-is-a-hateful-son-of-a-bitch-and-I-don’t-see-what-my-mom-sees-in-himrambling thing but the truth is, John is really nice, he is always abroad on businesstrips, so we have the whole mansion-like house to ourselves. The outside of thehouse was as beautiful as the inside; I love it, that’s one thing I like about John, he’sgot good taste. The moment you step inside, the first thing you’ll notice is thebeautiful ornate chandelier, which I think was from Italy, hanging above a marblestaircase at the end of the foyer. The foyer leads to two of the main rooms in thefirst floor. To the right was the living room. The living room was amazing with all theantique and priceless furniture John got from all over the world during his trips; andas always on rainy days, James’s got the fire going in the stone hearth. Pictureslined the walls, may it be pictures of Mom and John, or me, or different paintingsand photographs. Mind you, some paintings are originals by either Van Gogh orPicasso, John’s favorite painters. Across the living room from the foyer was thedining room, with the beautifully hand-carved dining table. The tableware was, Ithink, expensive porcelain from China that John gave Mom on their 1
st
anniversary. Yeah, he’s sweet. A Japanese divider separated the dining room from the kitchen. There was a tray of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies on the counter in thekitchen. I took one bite of chocolate chip heaven and went up to my room, notbothering to eat any more than that, too tired. From the landing, the first thingyou’ll see on the second floor is the family sitting room, decorated with the sametheme, exotic and natural, as the one downstairs but more personal as this is allfilled with family photographs, and a lot of our personal stuff. As I reached my room,I headed straight to the four-poster bed and sunk down. Almost at once, drifted off to sleep, too tired to even change out of my leotards.Rain poured hard on the streets of New York, people running everywhere to findshelter from the harsh winds and the rain that hit the city. I was on my way homefrom practice, though this time not with my mom; she had a business meeting toattend to back at her office, so, unfortunately, I have to find my way home myself. Ifelt as if I was being watched as I was walking down an unfamiliar street. Turningaround, I saw no one, that’s weird. I hurried my steps, feeling a bit more creeped
 
out. I hear footsteps behind me; but when I turned around, still, no one. I closed myeyes and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to convince myself I’ve beenimagining those things (and failing). I tried to compose myself, I opened my eyesand was blinded by this radiant light, my bleary vision tried to focus and get abetter view of this thing in front of me, slowly making out a shape. It looked like aperson, though it didn’t fit, what person would glow like that? As my sight gotclearer and clearer, the person in front of me got more and more defined. Right infront of me was the most gorgeous guy I have ever seen. With hair as dark as thenight, those hard chiseled features, those muscles outlined underneath his clothes,the fair skin that made me want to touch them and the eyes, the most beautifuleyes ever; blue as the summer skies yet deep as the ocean, I felt like I could drownstaring at those eyes yet as I looked upon their depths, they seemed to twinkle andwink at me, as if he’s happy to see me, they felt warm and welcoming as he staredright to my eyes. He lifted up a flawless, radiant hand, to stroke my cheek; it felthard and strong against my delicate skin, not as if he put it there to crush it buthard and strong in the sense of being protective and at that, I felt secured for someunknown reason. Still staring at me, he intertwined his free hand with one of mineand leaned closer and whispered in a voice also so angelic, “I’ve been waiting foryou, love,” a bolt of lightning flashed, which lit up his beautiful face once more,making him more perfect than ever; the booming thunder followed and I woke upfrom the dream. It was still pouring outside when I woke up in the middle of thenight; I checked by bedside clock, it said, 1:39. Feeling annoyed, whether becauseof the disturbance in my beauty sleep or because of the interruption of my dream, Ido not know, I tried to get back to sleep. Try as I may, I couldn’t feel a hint of lethargy in my system. Since I couldn’t get back to sleep, I might as well changeinto my night gown. As I snuggled back to bed after changing, I kept onremembering the funny dream I just had, I thought about the boy with the seraphicface thinking, somehow, somewhere, I knew him, I recognized him, but from where,I knew not. And before I know it, I drifted off to sleep again, though no more perfect,angelic, guy came bustling in my dreams, which was a total bummer.I woke up the next morning to the sound of my stupid alarm. I reached out my hand,my eyes still closed, lazily snoozed the clock and killing all the noise. I opened myeyes and stared at the ceiling dazedly. The only sound now was the quiet chirping of the birds, and the small buzz of activity downstairs. Early morning sunlight filteredthrough the glass doors that lead out to the terrace. I got up, giving up any hope of finding sleep again, and opened the doors to the terrace. I walked out, it was abeautiful day. The early morning sun was out in the horizon, slowly making its wayup and the light, clear blue skies, tinted with a bit of oranges, yellows and pinks,dotted with stray, whispy clouds here and there. One thing I like about rain is theeffect it has every morning after. It feels like the world is being reborn andeverything smelled wonderfully fresh like spring time had come. The pond reflectedthe early morning light, the water sparkling beautifully and reflecting all the beautyaround it. I sighed, wondering how can there be such sadness in the world and great
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