En Pointe Part 8

Natalia hobbled on crutches to her parents car. She felt terrible, her knee still ached and they hadn't let her see Natasha yet. She heard the word coma being whispered, though. Her and Natasha got the worst of it. No one else got very badly injured, a couple of concussions and sprained wrists were the worst ones.

"Ms. Karova said that we could take you home for the rest of the weekend and to come back early on Monday," her mom said once they got in the car. Natalia nodded woodenly, it made sense. A couple kids went home on weekends, the sisters could have, but most of the time they stayed at school.

"Honey, I know what the doctor said, but your knee could heal in as little as one week," her dad told.

"Or it could take months," Natalia squeezed her eyes shut, she'd done that a lot today. Now it hurt her to think, to think of the future, to think of the past, to think of the present. Dancing was her life, not being able to do it was nearly unbearable. "When do I get to see Natasha?" she asked.

"Tally," her mom started.

"What? She's not..." she choked on the word, she couldn't bear to say it.

"She's in a coma," her dad said. She took a sharp intake of breath and nearly began to sob again.

"A coma is when they don't wake up after like six hours," Natalia said. She saw her parents exchange looks and just blocked out her voices just wanting to be in her bed. Maybe once she woke this would all be a terrible nightmare, it wouldn't be though. A nightmare couldn't be this real and terrifying.


On Monday she woke up early and got ready to go back to school. Her mom had washed her jacket numerous times and finally the stains came out. Natalia kept the buisness card with her at all times it felt good to have something to hold on, something to look forward to, especially after seeing Natasha.

Natasha was sitting right where the car impacted, her head must have bounced against the window pretty hard, and was officially in a coma. Natalia was in a state of denail with her sister, she pretended it was someone else. That it wasn't her twin sister lying on the bed hooked up to all kinds of machines. She pretended that it wasn't really herself hobbling around on crutches and wearing an ace bandage, to minimize the amount of impact on it.

She headed downstairs and ate breakfast with her mom. "Did dad go to work?" she asked.

"It's how he deals with things," her mom said. Her dad was an English professor at a local university, coincedently the same Nick attended. "We have to leave soon," she said glancing up at the clock.

"Mom what would happen if I couldn't dance?" Natalia asked. It was the question on there mind since Saturday night.

"Let's not talk about it. Your meeting with a doctor on Wednesday to re-evaluate." Her mom said with a tight lipped smile. They finished breakfast before they got into the car and headed back to school.

She still hadn't gotton the hang of the crutches and the brace felt more constricting than helpful. Her mom pulled into vistor parking a the NEDC. The NEDC looked imposing from the outside. The first building you saw was the main school building with the office and classrooms. The dance studio and gym was to the right, dormitories to the left. This place was a second home to Natalia and could navigate the grounds with her eyes shut, it shouldn't be that hard on crutches.

Inside she saw several people who waved to her or smiled as they headed to the office. The secratery told them to head right into Karova's office. She was sitting at her desk talking to someone and typing away. She finished with a sigh. "Parents have been calling nonstop. Never before has something like this happened," her mom sighed and looked to the ground. "Of course your here to talk about both of your daughters,"

"Yes, Natasha is currently in a comatose state," her mom said harshly. "I want to know about Natalia's options,"

"As much as I hate to admit injuries are a part of a dancers life. The doctor faxed over the file and right now the best thing would be for Natalia to rest her knee and give it time to heal." Natalia nodded as her hands dug into the chair. "In a case like this there are three options: she can take alternative classes to dance. We have weightlifting and yoga classes depending on how injured she is; right now I don't think it would be the best choice. Another option would be her being an aide in a lower level dance class, that way she could put her expertise to use and not ruin her GPA."

"What is the third option?"

"It's a very extreme option and usually it doesn't happen because of injury,"

"What is it?" Natalia asked meekly.

"Transfering out," she answered. "That would not be a go-"

"What if I want a transfer?" Natalia interrupted, feeling sick the minute the words left her mouth. How could she leave her second home? But how could she stay? She couldn't dance, she'd just be on the sidelines and her sister, well her sisters gone for the time being. Sure, there's Jazz and Pira and Anthony and-

"You have so much potential," Karova said softly.

"Tal, honey, you don't want to give up,"

"I'm not giving up! I'm going to be out for a month, maybe even more and who knows if I'm even going to be the same. Do know how hard it would be to sit by and watch everyone, to be reminded of my dream slowly going down the drain?" she asked looking from the instructor to her mother.

"The first day of ninth grade you sat us down," she said turning to Karova. "You asked us how many of us wanted to dance. Everyone raised their hands. Then you asked how many of us needed to dance. Everyone went silent as you told that anyone can want to dance, but few need to dance. You told us you don't want the dancer that shows up to practice every day, you want the dancer that will be there early, that you don't want the dancer that tries there best, you want the dancer that gives there best everyday even in practice,"

"Ballet takes dedication. You have that, I don't know if I've ever had a student like you," she said with a sigh. "I don't know if transferring would be the best thing,"

"It's what I want," she told them.

"Tal, it's a third of the way through your junior, probably the worst time to transfer," her mom said.

"You try watching everyone else go about there lives normally when your sister is in a hospial bed and you can't do the thing that matters most in the world," she said.

"If it's what she really wants we can't stop her. I'll have the paperwork drawn up and if you'll provide me the information about the school she'll be attending," Karova said and her mom nodded, looking at her daughter. She was just trying to comprehend what could have made her daughter do something like this.


It was Friday night and Natalia was in her room packing. It was time to leave. They had already packed up Natasha's stuff; Karova had told the parents of her daughters wish.

All of Natalia's stuff was put away and she was sitting on a mattress in the room. She'd put all of her pictures and papers in a box, her clothes and other stuff in a suitcase. Lastly her ballet stuff. She'd put most of it in a duffle bag, but she was holding her old toe shoes. At one point they were pink and beautiful, now they were tattered and discolored. She held them tightly to her chest, they were her shoes she had when she came to the NEDC as a day student in seventh grade and still hadn't gotten rid of them. All kids save things, but Natalia never got rid of any of her ballet shoes. She still had the ones from when she started ballet at the age of five.

"Knock, knock," she turned around and saw Pira and Jazz standing in her doorway. The two were her best friends beside Natasha. Pira's real name Renee' but got nicknamed Piroutte that was later shortened to Pira. Jazz's real name was Jasmine. They both were polar opposites. Pira was tall with skin the color of coffee with cream. She had thick black hair and brown eyes. Jazz was short and petite, barely hitting 5'2 with short brown hair, blue eyes and pale skin.

"You're not actually leaving are you?" Jazz asked. She looked like a little kid pouting.

"Yeah," Natalia said sitting on her bare mattress. Jazz skipped over and sat down next to her. Pira stood across from them.

"I need help with my Petite Allegro, you can't leave!" Pira said. At that Natalia and Jazz both laughed. She struggled with it when she was younger because her legs were so long, but now she could do them with no problem. "Fine, but I'll miss you. Who's going to yell at me to watch my turnout on my Adage? Or help me with my math?" she said.

"I'm going to miss you guys too, this place is like my second home. It's better though," she said zipping up her duffle.

"Better for who?" Jazz asked. "Natasha is going to wake up, she is going to get better,"

"It's not that. The doctor said my knee won't be healed for at least a month. That means using these stupid crutches for at least a week or two. Then I still have to wear an ace bandage. No dancing. What's the point of being here if I can't dance,"

"You'll get better," Jazz said.

"How do you know? How do I know I didn't waste more than ten years of my life?"

"You don't, but you of all people know that we can't let injuries get the best of us," Pira said. Natalia looked down at her knee feeling the tears prick her eyes.

"I'm not letting it get the best of me," she said grabbing the card in her pocket feeling the worn paper. Pira and Jazz gave her hugs before leaving. Pira walked out right away, but Jazz lingered.

"Don't do the wrong thing," she said before skipping out.