It is December 12th, a day I have waited far too long for. Hi my name is Lorelai Pyke, I am a dancer and member of the Miracle dance studios and I specialize in ballet. Today is the most important day of my life, December 12th, the day my ballet studio will have its performance of the Nutcracker, now this is not what makes today special, I have performed in the nutcracker hundreds of times, but this time they are coming. "They" is the interviewer for the Edge water dance academy, the school of my dreams, I have had the poster for it up in my room since my very first dance recital, and I just knew that after that very first ballet show this is what I wanted to do with my life. I can remember every detail of that day, it was December 17th and there was a soft snowfall that morning ironically we were doing a ballet called "Snow falling" I was dressed in a white leotard with a sparkly silver tutu, my mom said it brought out my icy blue colored eyes. My dance instructor Ms. Swanson did my hair, she pulled it back in a bun, I like it when she does it because she makes the bun tight enough to stay but not so tight that it hurts my head, when she was done she put a crystal snowflake pin gently in my strawberry blond hair, she told me it was her from her very first professional dance recital at Edge Water Dance Acadamy, its where I heard about it first, and as she did my makeup she told me something I still have yet to forget, "Dancing is not a series of moves across a stage, dancing is a form of expression, its a heart, its a passion". I was about to go on stage for my dance and I started to panic, I could not remember any of the moves, I tried to recall one, at least one but my mind kept drawing a blank, suddenly they called my name to the stage and my heart began to race, I could hear it, louder it got, louder and louder, till it was pulsing in my ears, then I could hear of soft voice, it was hard to hear over my beating heart but still like a soft wisper I heard it, "Dancing is not a series of movement across a stage, dancing is a form of expression, its a heart, its a passion" and with that I leaped to the stage. My heart still pounding in my ears I leaped towards it, a single move I still did not remember but I did not care, I danced to the beat of my heart that continued to pound, I glided and leaped and twirled, I danced in a blur moving so fast I did not feel my ballet slippers touch the floor and suddently in a twirl I leaped from the stage and onto the floor, in front of the audience, not by accident, not on purpose but something in the back of my mind I suppose I had wanted. The music stopped, my heart stopped pounding, and all was silent, a man in the very back row stood up, I did not know him, he clapped, another person, a woman stood up, she clapped, they all began to stand up and cheer, clapping, that clapping was the most wonderful thing I had ever heard, and the news from the day after would be the worst. Ms.Swanson came in that day, she looked different, her hair was down and wild instead of in her usual tight bun, she was wearing a shirt that appeared to be 3 sizes too big and she was wearing grey baggy sweat pants to match the bags under her eyes. That was the most prominent detail, her eyes, they looked sad and confused as if she had no idea what was going on but she pretended she did anyway, that's when we got the news. My dear Ms.Swanson, the woman who had given me the most confidence out of life, my teacher, my best friend, was dying. Cancer, she would need chemo therapy, she explained everything, the hair loss, the hospitals, the fact she might never come back, but she told us one day she promised to come back, and she would watch our dance recital, because she did not want any of us to give up while she was gone, and she promised she would come back. There were many tears shed that day but nobody shed more then I, after everyone had left the studio I came to her, her snowflake hair pin gripped tightly in my right hand, and I gave it back to her and she proceeded to place it right back into my hand "no" she said "you keep it, with no hair I will have no use for this pin, but you can take it, keep it safe for me until I can come back to dance school" I smiled a soft smile through tears, then she left, she walked out of the dance studio, and left me alone in the quite sad room. She had walked out that door strong, Ms.Swanson had always kept her promises, except that one, Ms.Swanson did not come back. I still have that pin, I never have done a single recital without it, I always keep it somewhere, usually under the folds of the stitches of my tutu so that nobody can see it, nobody can see it but me and Ms.Swanson, who is watching all my recitals from up above just like she always said she would, and now I need this pin more then ever, the interviewer just walked in.