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𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀

I always dressed to impress and was glad Iris had left me such a classy outfit.

We left his place soon after. I was wearing a pure white bell sleeved, corset dress that showed off my small waist with the black belt and wrapped tightly around me. With heels and gold on me, I stood strong as I entered the company.

I loved Dream and it was soon to be mine. The establishment was massive with different buildings on sight filled with practice rooms, studios, massage rooms, Pilates, yoga and the best resources. We even had our own auditorium for performances at home.

As usual, it was great seeing everyone busily making their way to their classes with excitement, leaving their lessons complaining - the usual. I had been trapped in my private practice room for so long that I missed seeing all of the large, modern buildings, the dancers and even some of the teachers.

That season, the school was preparing for the Grand Performance. That event consisted of having all of the dancers involved in one big ceremony to perform and celebrate the life of the company. It was something my mother began, despite no longer being around she was still an important presence to her company. As soon as anyone walked in, they could see her memento up on the wall. She was the soul of the place. It felt only right that I was to inherit what she left me.

The preparations for the Grand Performance were going forward, it was going to be at the end of of that season and everything had to run smoothly. We would do our best as we always did however I did worry about the safety of the dancers with that stalker on the loose. I was still shaken by what happened the night before.

Even when I got changed in my dressing room, although Iris repeatedly reassured me that the rooms had been thoroughly checked, I still felt uncomfortable getting changed so I did it quickly. I left the room wearing my usual pastel pink leotard that left my matched with a white sleeve shrug, a midi wrap skirt, some white see through tights and some cute leg warmers. I tied my hair back into a neat bun at the top of my head, making sure it wasn't too tight so my head won't complain later on.

I did love ballet. I had worked so hard to get better at it but I did sometimes feel a sense that I wanted freedom. I did prefer teaching dance compared to doing it. It was difficult being a ballerina, the constant weighing, the diets, repetitive practices and judges, the hard training and pain, and the efforts to be perfect ballerina. No one saw the struggles we had to go through to provide the best performances of peoples' lives. But I know I couldn't stop dancing; I had invested my entire life into it - there was nothing else I could do but stay and work harder.

After applying some lip gloss, I left the room. Leonardo had disappeared off with my uncle, probably signing the contract for Dream. It still irritated me but I had a feeling it wouldn't be long until I got my company.

The first thing I had was my private lesson with the woman who taught my mother, Madam Sylvie. She was a strict woman who was the backbone of the school; she had trained me hard and brought me where I was. If it wasn't for her, I would not have such impeccable skills.

I laced up my pointe shoes and got ready to begin.

Our private practice was difficult as usual. As soon as I finished stretching, she started the torture with the music playing. She never gave it to me easy.

"Mademoiselle, fix your arabesque, it is not in second position," Madam tutted with her thick French accent. Irritated already, she gave me her usual frown and tapped my shoulder with her long, brown stick.

"Straighten your back." It came with a thump on my shoulder.

"Now promenade en arabesque. You have been slacking lately." I always did as I was told; it was easier to be passive with Madam then show any sign of exhaustion otherwise that would call for a long, long monologue of the training she used to endure and how what she was teaching was nothing compared to what she went through.

She was eventually satisfied and continued to make me do bourrés, fouettés, flawless pirouettes that I had to repeat countlessly to perfect and much, much more.

My mind drifted away to the days where I trained under my mother when I was a child; I much preferred Madam teaching me.

I didn't have much care for ballet when I was younger; I cared more about the opinion of my mother and the look of delight and happiness when I perfected what she commanded me to do. I wanted her to adore me, squeeze my cheeks and clap for me when I did well.

It was rare.

There was once a week I had been training vigorously for days and nights with barely any sleep. Mother was preparing me for a competition coming up at the end of the month. As usual, she expected me to be first place as normal. If I ever dropped to second or third, my punishment would be severe. The pressure of impressing my mother and following her legacy was something I had to carry for years.

I remembered her dragging me off the floor when I fainted in the preparation. She splashed my face with freezing, cold water from the pond outside and yelled in my face, calling me pathetic for being so weak. I was barely conscious and could barely move; my legs were swollen and my feet blistered, it burned whenever I walked as though I was standing on hot lava. Usually, I never gave up on dancing while in pain; I had to avoid being beaten and needed to stay on her good side. But that day was my thirteenth reason; I had enough. I assumed she would throw a fit, maybe whip my feet or hit me.

I didn't expect her to drag me by my hair into the bathroom while I was crying and fill the bath tub with cold water. She then shoved my head multiple times into the deep water, forcing me underwater for minutes whilst I struggled against her grip, as choking and gulping large amounts of water as I screamed. She was yelling at me in rage throughout.

It was traumatic and still haunted me. I sometimes got the same fear when I took a bath.

I remembered becoming extremely sick afterwards. I was on a drip for days passed out, my body temperature low. I was on the brink of death. Of course, no one but us and a few maids knew about the incident. She had our private family doctor care for me and pretended I had merely overworked myself due to the nerves of losing, suddenly having amnesia at the fact that she hurt me.

When I woke up, it was then her humility was shown again and she was crying for me, begging for forgiveness. Mother was strange like that; she was sometimes extremely apologetic, or empathetic and happy then she could suddenly switch to being so angry and violent. She frightened me as a child; one day combing my hair with kindness, another about to burn it from frustration.

I was constantly reminded of her during dance. Her repeated phrases like, "arch your back," "straighten your feet," "dance like your life depends on it." I supposed the trauma formed me and made me into such a successful dancer, I always had her advice at the back of my mind when I performed. But it was painful, always remembering her.

The music suddenly cut to a stop and I landed on my two feet, zooming back into reality.

"Excellent work," Madam commented bluntly as she began to tidy away her things; her compliments never sounded cheerful but I still took them since it was difficult to receive one from her. Hours had somehow passed and I was dripping with sweat, surprised at how time flew by. My clothes were beginning to uncomfortably stick to me, the room was extremely warm compared to before.

I nodded before breathlessly replying, "thank you, Madam." I bowed politely, marking an end to our session and began to make my way to my duffel bag, grabbing my flask and gulping down the water as I felt it sliding down my body internally.

"Do not forget the room change for your group practice. It is downstairs." I nodded again at her before placing my water back, taking my pink face towel and patting dry my face before zipping up my bag and swinging it over my shoulder.

Madam began to walk towards the door to leave the large room as I used my hands to fan myself dry. She paused, her back towards me which I noticed, surprised.

". .Are you. .okay?"

The tall, lean woman lacked affection and was quite reserved. She was a ladylike woman, traditional in her beliefs and always stuck by her values. Madam trained me as soon as my mother died and I returned from my training abroad, so we had worked with each other for a long time.

She knew a lot about me, specially about my skills and weaknesses which she always sought to perfect. But to receive any sympathy or kindness from her was rare; she had one job and that was to teach, not to indulge in any sorrow.

Madam turned, her thin, slightly wrinkled face towards me. As usual, she had no smile on her face and stared at me with her usual passionless look. I showed her some warmth, hoping she would take it through a gentle smile. I knew she was referring to the night before. "I'm very well, Madam," I formally responded, giving her a short head tilt as a bow once more. I was slightly giddy at her sense of concern for me.

Giving me a final nod, she spun on her heel and left the room, the grand doors slamming shut at her departure.

I sighed tiredly before making my way to my next practice.

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In the next room, I had a mixture of stares or glances.

It seemed everyone knew about what happened and in light of this, I purposely avoided the news or social media as well as the 'thoughtful' messages people had left me in the morning.

I was most likely either getting blamed for Dorothy's death or pitied for being violated. I didn't care either way and paid no attention to the nosy whispers and gossips. I focused my attention on the preparations.

The practice was for the performance decided upon; Sleeping Beauty.

The funds that were going towards our Grand Performance would be donated to a children's charity so the event had to reflect the youth. Many would be attending the evening so the night had to be family friendly.

The teacher hadn't arrived yet so like the others, I was stretching and doing my usual grand battement to prepare myself for what I knew was going to be an extremely long session.

I began to ponder where Leonardo was and what he was possibly doing during my series of développés. As I extended my arms and stretched, I wondered how he was doing and why I hadn't seen him yet.

Two fingers poked my sides and I flinched, immediately bringing down my leg and turning quickly to see who had dared to touch me mid daydream.

It was the one and only corp Rosa, accompanied with a ballerino, Lucas. His arm was loosely wrapped around his girlfriend. I gave them both a glare as they laughed though I was happy to see my friends.

"We were worried about you," Rosa said sympathetically. She was a shorter girl with thick, curly auburn dyed hair that looked amazing against her rich, dark skin. Her big brown eyes were full of concern for me and she pulled me into a hug for a moment, patting my shoulder. I once again reassured them I was fine because I really was; I was more determined to find the stalker.

"Where are you staying now?" Lucas asked sounding more serious. I met his eyes and smiled, "it's alright, I've got a place." Lucas still seemed concerned shown in his eyes. He was a muscular guy that usually worked with me during performances. For the upcoming one, he was going to be my prince, and I Aurora.

Rosa brightened up the mood by pushing herself off the bannister and linking arms with me with a squeal. "I hear someone is engaged!" She lifted up my hand, taking me by surprise and gasped at my ring, trying to contain her little squeals. I chuckled, feeling a little shy. Her vibrant eyes gave me a knowing look; Rosa knew of the deal.

"Is this the guy you told me about years ago?" She asked despite already knowing, and before I could reply added, "Girl, I better be your bridesmaid!" I laughed, giving her arm a little squeeze of reassurance. "Of course!" I noticed that Lucas had made himself occupied with stretching and before I could speak to him, the next teacher entered and it was time for practice.

She splits the class into half and focuses on the girls first. I could feel the tension in the room as soon as she brought out the scale. There were no longer any whispers or giggling; the mood became serious at the sight of the dreaded thing.

Miss Rodriguez was a retired ballet dancer who too was successful in her career. She carried herself well and looked young for her age. Despite this, she was too a strict teacher who didn't like any bullshit. She wasn't teaching our lesson but coming to the routinely check for our weights. Herself, she was extremely thin, thinner than most of the girls in the school. It was the girls who got the most reprimanding over weight which was something I wanted to change if I managed the school. It was important to feel feather like and execute clear, flawless moves but all ballerinas have to be slim.

I would say I wasn't the thinnest ballerina, in fact, I had a lot of healthy fat and muscle around me. Not all girls looked the same; some were thicker with larger thighs or bigger chests, whereas some looked like they needed a trip to the doctor. It was the smaller girls Miss Rodriguez preferred.

One by one, we were each called up randomly to the scale. I knew there had been a party the night before while I was at the gala. There, I was sure many people had over eaten and spewed afterwards. It had been a while since our last check and they always came out of the blue; no one could prepare for them except making a guess.

"Do not even bother standing on it, I can see your breakfast hanging from you."

"Get yourself on a diet. You eat too much."

"Are you pregnant?"

"Stop horse riding, your thighs are getting too big."

"You think you'll get a place on that programme with that stomach?"

It was uncomfortable to watch. Rosa attempted to grab her stomach, but failed to since she was so skinny. She was checking her wrists, her thighs and even pulled up her leotard to cover up more of her chest. Miss Rodriguez preferred modesty. "Stop," I whispered to her, "you look fine." Rosa sighed as she stopped, still looking slightly nervous. She had nothing to worry about.

Meanwhile, our eyes averted our teacher scolding a short girl. Rosa flinched at the sight. The girl's eyes were on the floor and she was struggling to hold back her tears. I clenched my jaw, feeling annoyed at the unfairness. She wasn't even fat and was getting admonished for being one pound over the standard. She was shaking and scurried away quickly once Miss Rodriguez had moved onto her next victim.

After Rosa and I were deemed thin enough and more girls were checked, our next teacher arrived; she was much kinder. Miss Rodriguez left the room without a care or a word after destroying the self esteem of us all in the room.

We began the preparations for the performance, slowly forgetting about the checks.

Rosa and I grabbed coffee after in the school's cafe. It was peaceful, there wasn't many people hanging around. I ordered for us and took a seat besides the window, admiring the beauty of nature outside.

"I got a letter yesterday," she began quietly, her eyes on the swans gliding against the pond's water. My eyes snapped to her in astonishment, immediately feeling worried. I pushed down my nerves, "what did it say?" She sighed, sipping her latte. "How 'beautiful' I am." She was being stalked too, as were many girls. I knew mine was the worst, the person seemed to really have it out for me.

Leaning over the table, took her hand and reassured her, "I won't let anything happen to you. Stop opening them and don't worry, I'll figure this out." I meant it; I would do anything I could to stop her from getting hurt. Rosa nodded, a warm smile returning on her face. "Thanks, Maria. I just hope-"

Unexpectedly, there was a roar of yelling coming from the practice room not too far away. Our heads turned automatically at the sound, Rosa even standing to have a peek from around the corner.

I stiffened as my ears picked up the sound of a particular voice shouting. ". .Ria. .I think. ." Rosa trailed off, beginning to look slightly anxious. I stood and groaned.

It was my sister, Luna, fighting another girl.

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~ Author's Note ~

1K READS! Thank you so much for spending the time reading NEPENTHE!! I promise it gets even better :)
{and it's a long read}

We've met Rosa and Lucas, and Dream! It's nice seeing Maria in her career and at the ballet school. But it's clear she has her own childhood trauma that she needs to come to terms with.

More talk on the stalker, it's not only Maria who receives unwanted attention from a mysterious person.

Maria has a sister? Luna will be an interesting person to learn about.

Thoughts on this chapter?

For more, please vote, comment, share and follow. Votes and comments really help me know how the story is going, if the book is captivating or not, and helps boost my confidence for more updates :)

Thanks for reading!

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