She stared at that spot on the polished floor boards in front of her.
It was tiny, just a lil smudge compared to how big the room was. She could still see the soft glow on the floor where someone had carelessly smudged the perfect boards. It made her want to cry all the trouble, pain and heart ache that lil smudge had caused that day.
In a split second, that tiny piece of floor had taken her friend Tammie’s dreams and smashed them against a brick wall. In that split second, every star that she’d wished on as a little girl died and fell from the night sky in a blaze of light.

These few terrifying seconds kept replaying in Bianca’s head.
Her heart lurched every time she saw her friend fall in that very spot, her feet coming up from under her. The resounding crunch that she made as she landed on her back echoed through the dark still. Her body ached and her soul cried for her friend’s fall, not only that but the long road that the doctors now said would follow. She felt extremely selfish though. She felt for her friend but what terrified her was that it could have been her lying flat on her back in the local hospital instead of Cathy. She almost stood in the spot of line which her friend had during the simple exercise.
 

She felt relief.
She would then feel the worst sort of guilt that she had every felt in her life. Instead of being here at the South Street dance studio, she should be at Cathy’s side, holding her hand and helping her through the pain. There was something inside her though that couldn’t and it wasn’t because she didn’t like hospitals either. Cathy was the sister that she never had. They went to the same school, had started their ballet lessons on the same day at the same school. They laughed together, they cried together and were always there for each other.
But tonight Bianca couldn’t be there for Cathy.
She was too afraid to look into Cathy’s eyes and tell her that everything would be alright. She knew that if it was in that bed that she wouldn’t believe a word that came out of her mouth. Both girls knew that for them, it wouldn’t be alright. One night when Bianca has stayed the night at Cathy’s, they’d spoken about their dancing. They had both agreed that their world would end if they couldn’t dance. Cathy had said she’d rather die if she couldn’t race to the studio after school every day and slip into her satin pink toe shoes.

It should have been her, Bianca thought.
Out of the two of them, Bianca was a distant second place to the way Cathy danced. Bianca loved to dance, no doubt about that but there was a lil spark of something missing in her that she could clearly see when Cathy took the floor. Cathy didn’t dance, she floated. Cathy wasn’t just plain old Cathy out there, she was the beautiful fairy princess that danced like the heavens had blessed her that they all wanted to be.
Bianca couldn’t help wondering why Cathy would be blessed with such a beautiful gift that she had decided to share with the world only to have it taken away before she got the chance.
It wasn’t fair! Actually, she thought it bloody well stank!

She could finally feel tears slipping down her checks.
She hadn’t cried when her friend had first been hurt. She hadn’t cried either when her mum had told her in the emergency room waiting area that the damage to Cathy’s back and neck was worse than they had first anticipated. Mrs Lewis had said that with the way medical science was progressing, that if she was lucky Cathy may be able to walk again in the future. However, she would never dance again. Cathy would never again feel those lil butterflies that both girls got as they would sit back stage at a concert & slipped into their toe shoes after fighting and wriggling their way into the standard pink tights with the perfect frilly tutus.
 

Bianca looked up from the smudge on the floor and into the full length wall mirrors. Usually she loved watching herself in the mirror. She loved watching her perfectly proportioned body performing the contorting movements that made the average person cringe. Today, she didn’t love looking so much. Her pale, pretty face was all red and stained with her tears. There were two silvery trails where her tears still glistened in the fading day light. Two once clear blue eyes stared back but they were now bloodshot. She looked shocking – and she felt just as bad as she looked. Her tiny hands held her worn, dirty toe shoes against her chest as she slowly breathed in and out, controlling the flow of tears as she did.

She was being stupid.
She felt like a selfish five year old, sitting on a supermarket floor crying and throwing a tantrum because something had gone wrong and all of a sudden, she wasn’t getting her way.
This whole thing wasn’t about her! She was being childish in thinking that it was all about her and how she was feeling. How she felt, didn’t matter tonight – it was how Cathy was feeling that did. Tomorrow, Bianca would leave school and arrive at the studio at quarter to four, suiting up for her daily class. The chatter of a dozen girls laughing about their day as they slipped into their leotards and shoes would be music to her ears. There would be no Cathy tomorrow, or the day after, or the week after….

It was all about Cathy right now.
She would be so frightened at the moment and not for the silly reason that Bianca was crying over. Cathy would be upset that she wouldn’t dance again but that wouldn’t be the top most on her list. It was silly to be worrying about what might have been Cathy’s dancing career when her best friend would possibly never walk again. Things that they had taken for granted were things that would make Cathy’s life harder for the next few months. Things like answering the phone or the door, feeling hungry and just heading to the fridge, reaching a book high on a shelf or even her locker at school.

Bianca straightened herself up and grabbed her back pack. Stowing her shoes away, she took out her bus ticket and headed down the creaky stairs to the bus stop outside. Checking the next bus to arrive, she calculated that it would take another forty minutes before she could be by Cathy’s side, being the best friend and supportive sister that she should have been since the moment it happened. She would hold her hand tight and let cry, talk or just sit there in silence if that was what Cathy wanted to do.
It wasn’t about the dancing or the music any more – it was about Cathy.