The Paranormal Pointe

September 20, 2012
By Ghostwriter77 BRONZE, Carpentersville, Illinois
Ghostwriter77 BRONZE, Carpentersville, Illinois
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"That's why I write, because life never works except in retrospect. Even if you can't control life, at least you can control your version."

In one word I can easily sum up my whole life. Dancing. That’s all I have ever done. It’s also all I ever do. I’m not the type of girl who goes to the mall with friends. And whenever I hang out with mine, it’s always so they can come over and critique my dancing. That’s why all of my friends are dancers themselves.

Anyway, today was one of those days where I had nothing to do besides dance, which is kind of ironic because dancing is all I ever do. So I got off my butt, walked down the stairs to my basement, and changed into my favorite cherry red pointe shoes and a black ‘pancake’ tutu. Yes a tutu. And yes, it is called a pancake tutu.
Anyways, today, all I did was dance, I dipped, and I swerved, I scuttled about on my slippers,and tripped lightly over the wood floor.
And then , the unbelievably happened.
I fell.
It was like some unseen force crashed into me. I was flung to the side, where I landed awkwardly, my knee being pushed all the way back at an unattural angle. There was a snap, a crack, and yes, a pop. I screamed, and the 'thing' that had pushed me attacked again, shoving me all the way to the ground until my face was pushed against the wood. But when I opened me eyes, there was nothing standing above me, but air.
My brother found me lying there 2 hours later. My knee was numb. Dislocated. Broken. I could feel it, throbbing like it had it's own heart.
The sudden realize was like a bucket of ice-cold water being flung in my face. I couldn't dance, I wouldn't be able to dance. I would NEVER be able to dance. My life, wouldn't have any importance to it if I couldn't dance. And yet, I still couldn't. All because of this, thing, this Demon, that had attacked me, for no reason.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw something, the figure of an 8-year-old girl. She had sparkling, evil pink eyes, and she was smirking at me, laughing silently behind, one delicate, partially-transparent, gray-blue hand. She saw me watching her, smiled once more, and vanished, with nothing but a light flash of barely-there pink mist.
That was when I blacked out completely.

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