Ballo Di Anima: The Spirit Dance

Invitation

It was early morning or late night—the sun was starting to set or rise, I just wasn’t sure which one. The sky was a bright pink-orange so I could only just make out my surroundings. I could see a playground in the distance, the dark blue swing set only fifty metres or so away. The grass underneath me and my knotted light brown hair seemed to be a bit damp so it made me think it was early morning.

I couldn’t quite remember how I got here. Last night fell into a haze. The last thing I remember clearly was somehow convincing mum to let me go with my best mate Emma to an open house party just a few streets away. I’m only seventeen so mum doesn’t like letting me out much, but I pulled the old ‘you have to let me make my own mistakes’ line and she reluctantly let me go. I now regret going to the party at all. Emma’s parents didn’t mind her going to parties and often brought her alcohol, and she gladly shared her drinks with me. As I’m not as experienced in the ‘party scene’ as her, it didn’t take me long to get drunk.

I’d drunk two by the time we reached the party and I was already stumbling over my own feet. I liked being drunk. I seemed to not care about anything and have a new sense of confidence—it was like I’d been holding the whole world on my shoulders and never realized, and it’s not till I’m drunk that it gets lifted.

It was one of Emma’s friend’s parties. I’d meet her in passing but we’d never really talked more then a friendly good-day here and there. I didn’t really know any one at the party. Except for Mitch who I’d been texting for the last couple of weeks now, nothing had happened yet but we definitely implied a lot of things, other than him though I didn’t know any one, I’d seen most of them at school, but never meet them. Nonetheless I let Emma talk me in to coming. I wasn’t at the party for long before I started to mingle with the other guests. They were all so nice. I never realized before. It made me wonder why I’d never liked them before. I always thought the boys were too big of show-offs and the girls were always too bitchy. As the music played and we all danced along, many of my new friends kept handing me drinks and I kept taking them, not wanting to hurt their feelings. I lost track of how many I had, but the more I drank the more free I felt. As the night started to develop into a huge blur I distinctly remember catching a glimpse of Mitch in one corner of the yard to my horror making out with another girl, I couldn’t tell who she was from behind; I remember the sudden rage that engulfed me. To shocked and heart broken I left that scene alone and went back to getting extremely drunk.

It must have been about midnight when one of my new friends, I think his name was Damien or something, asked me to go for a walk. Not caring about what might happen and still recovering from my resent heart brake, I accepted the invitation politely. I don’t think we went far but it was hard to walk and I ended up slung over Damien’s muscly arm. It was dark on the streets but I could see some lights up ahead. It must be a park, I thought to myself. Sure enough about five minuets later Damien was walking me up along some grass and toward what looked like another group from the party. Among them I could recognisee a boy called Jack. I knew him from school—he was in my history class, and he’d sometimes sit next to me when he didn’t understand what the teacher was saying and wanted me to translate.

As we walked towards the group Jack saw it was me and walked out to meet us. Damien didn’t like the fact that I knew one of the boys and started to walk me away. I tried to stop him and walk out to meet Jack half way, but Damien stopped me and tried again to steer me away from the approaching boy. Jack obviously didn’t like the idea of Damien trying to get away from him with me. I can’t remember exactly who said what or who challenged whom but some how Damien and Jack were fighting, I tried to tell them to stop but slurred my words too much for any one to understand. They were throwing punches and I didn’t like the idea of someone getting hurt. So I stumbled over towards them hoping they would stop once I got too close, you know how they do in movies. Obviously things in movies don’t happen in real life, so they didn’t stop throwing punches—and unfortunately I stood right in front of one of their punches. It hit me hard and I fell to the ground . . . that’s been the last thing I remembered.

Obviously they decided to leave me here and run, in fear they would get in trouble, because here I lay on the ground in the park. As I rolled over I could fell my head thumping, but I was still too tired to get up so I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

Lizz! Oh, my God—Lizz, please don’t be dead!

I woke to hear Emma yelling. I tried to open my eyes to see her but the sun was in my eyes, so I guess it was about nine now due to where the sun was sitting in the sky. It took me a minute to allow my eyes to focus before I could open them, and when I did I could see Emma was leaning over me still yelling.

Lizz, please don’t be dead. Someone call for help, quickly! Oh, my god, she’s moving—someone help! Lizz, Lizz, are you okay? Lizz, answer me!

She was obviously worried but I couldn’t find my voice to be able to reply. I tried to clear my throat. It was so sore and dry; it took another few minutes before I could reply. Emma, calm down, I’m fine. It was all I could say; my voice was crackly and my head was so sore. After that I fell back to sleep.

Grounded

Next time I woke, I wasn’t sure where I was. I could smell alcohol wipes and baby powder. It confused me. When I opened my eyes, everything was blurry and I had sleep covering my sight. I tried to lift my hand to clear my eyes, but something sharp stabbed into my hand—with closer examination I discovered it was a needle that was coursing the unconfutable feeling in my hand. It took a few more blinks before I could un-fog my eyes, and when I did I could only see white.

Everything was white—I was lying in a dull white bed and the walls were a similar dull white. The only colour in the room was some lifeless dying flowers in a pot next to my bed, sitting on a white bedside table. It was only then I realised where I was.

I was in hospital. What had happened to me?

Then I saw her; my mum, sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, asleep. When I saw her, all the weight that had been lifted of my shoulders the night before all came crashing down. I felt so bad. All the stress and worry I must have caused my mum—my heart was breaking. I hate hurting my mum. She does so much for me and she really cares about me. She loves me so much, but I also know how much she worries about me. Normally, I do all I can to stop her from worrying, but somehow I know she’ll never stop worrying after what happened last night, my assumption evidence on her tired face.

At that moment there was a light tap at the door and in walked a young looking doctor; under any other circumstance I would have perved on his slender phasic and baby like eyes. As he entered the room, Mum woke up. In the same moment as she woke up she seemed to realize I was awake. She ran to the side of my bed. Elizabeth-rose Macentosh you are grounded for life. Her voice angered but it wasn’t hard to hear the relief in her tone.

I know, mum. I’m sorry, was all I could say as my grief of what I had done was still lingering in my mind.

Oh no, you don’t know. You’re grounded for life and on dish duty for a year and no friends over ever again. Got it, girlie? You are in so much trouble.

She continued to rant on as her voice became agreer but I stopped paying attention to her. I got it, I was in a lot of trouble and I defiantly deserved it, but all that worried me at this moment was the doctors. I tried to tell what he was thinking. It looked like he was about to stop my mother, so I thought I’d do it before him. Mum, I get it, I’m in trouble. I’m sorry. I know I did wrong, but now isn’t the time. Lets listen to the doctor—he obviously came in for a reason. My voice evidence enough that I felt bad for what I’d done.

The doctor took that as an invitation to tell us if anything was wrong with me. It didn’t look too bad, he was smiling now. He cleared his throat and his husky voice began to inform us of the damage I had sustained over night. It looks all good. There was a bit of bleeding on the brain, but that can be expected when you get a knock on the head that hard. As well as a small bruise on your lower neck, it looks as though you landed on a rock or something with a sharp tip. Other than that, you should be free to go as soon as you fill out the paper work. I intently relaxed just a fraction. Okay, I was fine. My head still hurt a bit, but no brain problems—thank God. I looked at my mum. She looked relived that I was okay, but as mad as all hell at me. I was in for it when I got home.

Goodbyes

B ut mum! I’m not leaving. You’re being stupid! I’ll stop hanging around Emma—fine—but I’m not moving! You can’t make me. My voice rang of the walls as it echoed down the narrow hall.

Like hell I can’t, Elizabeth! I don’t care, ever since we moved here you’ve been getting worse. Being a stupid teenager. It’s not like you, sweetheart. I don’t know what’s gotten into you. If moving is what I believe is going to help you, as a parent that’s what I’m going to do! So you can either get over, it pack your bags and say goodbye, or be a stupid teenager and make a scene, but either way we’re moving, and that’s final. Mums voice seemed calmed but had an edge of venom to it as it roared up the hall at me.

Garr, I have no idea what’s come over her. Ever since we’ve come back from the hospital she’s got it in that head of hers that I’m not myself and that if we moved I’d be myself again. I have no idea what she means. I have been myself. Just because she doesn’t like me being what I am, it’s not my problem. I’m not moving. She can say what she wants. But she can’t make me move. Besides if either of us weren’t acting like ourselves it would be her, I don’t understand her any more she keeps saying something about having a hunch and that moving will give both of us a better life. Less then a week before I went to that stupid party she was saying how much she loved it here and how her life couldn’t be better. I had no idea what had happened to my mum but I new two things I didn’t like it and she wasn’t going to make me move.

Airport

B ye Lizz. I’m really going to miss you. You better keep in contact! Emma’s voice was strained and starting to become horse.

After weeks of fighting with mum, she finally won. She packed my bags for me and now I stood in front of the house, saying my goodbyes to Emma. We had a huge goodbye party at school, and I said goodbyes to all my other friends there, but Emma was the only one I was really going to miss. It was so unfair why mum was making me move!

I know Emma. I’ll miss you too. I’ll text you when we get there and I’ll send you pictures as soon as I take them, okay. A managed to choke out between tears and humourless laughs at how funny Emma’s voice sounded.

We drove down the road towards the airport. I looked out my window, with my right hand resting on the now rather visible bruise, a horrible reminder of how stupid I was that night and how that