Faint Pink Shock

by Vannesa Blanco

I can remember the weekend strolls in the moonlit store aisles, I gazed at the perfectly proportioned Barbie ballerinas, and their baby pink tutus. I didn’t care much for their pretty looks, I had the wild idea in my head of actually dancing like they did. I wanted to pounce with grace, twirl faster than any animal, and tip toe my toes into a blistery mess. But my yearning quickly became impossible when I asked my mom to let me be a ballerina.

“Ballerina? that’s for little white girls with a lot of money, plus you would never

fit in.” she would say.

My stomach always filled with pain when she uttered those type of words, she made my hopes drop 1,000 feet down. But I at least had my father, he was a quiet and kind soul. He saw nothing wrong with wanting to be a dancer. One day I managed to ask him my wild thought, he was outside working on our tiny lawn. Yes, we lived in Richmond, but he always wanted our home to look tidy and clean. I’m not sure why he was outside, the wind was going at an explosive speed, the clouds were an ash gray, and the crack dealers were outside doing business.

“Hey dad come inside real quick I have a question to ask you,”

“Yeah Mila, I’m just working on the plants, I don’t want them to fly everywhere, I’ll come inside in a while,” he said as he looked up, and his engraved wrinkles smiled at me.

“I guess I’ll ask you now, I would like to take ballet lessons, but only if you guys can afford to.” I told him with a low voice.

“That’s nice, but I think that’s going to cost a bit of money, I’ll talk to your mother about it.” he said. Our conversation ended, and I headed to my room and practiced in front of my mirror. I noticed all my magazine clippings behind me, sprinkles of happy faces in pink fabrics, only reminded me that a girl like me couldn’t be like them. My copper skin probably wouldn’t even blend in with pink, and my thick black hair would probably fall out of the mandatory buns. Plus my curved twelve year old body would most likely look awkward in skin tight leotards. I had to let go of my little fantasy, I ripped the clippings of my wall, and gave up.

Its was Monday, the begging of a new week, and possibly a new paradigm. After school was in place, and I had nothing to do since my school had no significant amount of programs. The grass looked a humid green and the sky was still a stark gray. I liked how my walk was going, I was able to collect stones and bottle caps, I collected them for no reason. An urge kicked in and told me to start dancing, but my unhappiness made me melt like strawberry ice-cream.

“Mila, Mila I got great news,” said my dad. He surprised me, the force of his excitement pushed me back.

“What happened? Did you get a raise?” I said.

“I managed to get you a spot in a ballet studio!”

“Oh my gosh! Papa, that’s incredible, I love you so much, so, so much,” I uttered in shock. “But how did you do it?”

He sat me down to explain everything, he told me he mentioned to his boss that I wanted to dance ballet. The reason he asked him was because his daughter dances, my dad just expected a recommendation, but his boss gave him a scholarship to pay for my lessons.

“I stood there, so surprised, I could not believe it,” he said. His boss had known my dad for ten years, and my father always remained loyal to his gardening services. That’s one reason why I think he did this amazing deed.

“Where is it going to be?” I asked.

“In the city, San Francisco” he said. I was so thrilled the studio was going to be there, even though we live so close, we’ve only been there three times. And now it was going to become my second home.

“100 dollars for shoes,” screeched my mom. I didn’t want to go shopping with her, I had already predicted her words. All I needed was a leotard, stockings, and ballet slippers. It was the shoes that made me nervous, I knew they were going to cost a mini fortune.

“Mom, their going to last me a long time,”

“No, no that is still too much,” she said. “Mam do you sell cheaper ones?”

“We have used ones for $35, but they might be too big or too tight.” said the cashier.

“Ok, I’ll take a pair of those, Mila choose the color.” said my mother.

I forcefully chose the pink ones, they were barely a cheek pink, they looked more as if a coal miner had wore them to work. But I couldn’t care more for the materials, I was actually going to live my dream, nothing could ruin my innocent high.

The day had arrived, my little room couldn’t contain my excitement. My bland white walls made a huge contrast against my newly cleared out floor and chestnut drawers. I skipped to my first class and just dosed off, I was waiting for school to end. By the second time I looked at my watch it was already two fifteen, school was officially out. And in an hour and ten minutes my first ballet lesson was going to start. My dad picked me up and we headed to San Francisco, the giant gazelle like buildings amazed me, I felt like I was going to drown in them. When we arrived, my dad wished me luck, I kissed his tan cheek and made a vast sigh to release my nerves.

The studio was and old brick building with an iron border hugging it in place. Right in the center there was a steel title that read Ballet Studio. The receptionist told me to go to room fifteen, when I went inside the mood made me feel different. My body was all of a sudden heavy and intense. All the girls were in their delicate uniforms, and all of them had emotionless faces stamped on.

I was a little taken off, but I expected the attitude to be like that, in a place of prestigious dancing.

“Hello I’m Mila Santos,”

“Oh yes, hello, you’re the new girl right?” she said. “I’m Karen Brooks, the ballet instructor, I hope you feel at home, just stand beside me.” Ms. Brooks right away seemed very warm and polite for a ballet instructor. She had short, choppy chocolate hair, and an array of tiny moles that complemented her milky skin. She looked as if she were in her early thirties, and her tall and lean giraffe like body made her stand out against the common people. We proceeded to stretch and learn about posture, I found myself struggling, almost shaking like a newly walking baby. I expected to hear laughing behind me, but everyone’s face was frozen with nothingness. An hour passed, and I felt uneasy about my deliverance as a newcomer. I realized I was being too hard on myself, until I felt a warm hand on my right shoulder blade, its as if the temperature was turned up in the cold studio.

“Hey I’m Lulu,”

“Hi, my name is Mila, I’m new here,”

“Yeah, I kind of noticed, but I saw the you seemed frustrated. You shouldn’t be at all, because you’ll eventually learn, it seems like you have potential.” she said.

I was glad Lulu approached me, she had unbelievable blond hair and turquoise eyes. Her personality seemed genuine, but it always felt like she held words back, she never spoke much about the studio or ballet, which was odd.

I was wondering what time our next class was going to be. I approached an Asian girl I had noticed when I was walking in class. “Excuse me, what’s your name?”

I asked her a couple questions, but I didn’t get a word out of her, her face angle would not even make a shift. She looked at my direction, her cold stare seemed to thaw my friendly spirit. “These girls sure are pretty competitive.” I said to myself.

Lulu asked me to walk with her to the bus stop, and as we strolled along the massive amounts of people, I asked her about my weird encounter with the girl.

“Hey Lulu, why do none of these girls talk at all? I’ve noticed they seem so strange, like their too into their work,” I said.

“Oh…well I guess they practice a lot for the performances, they probably focus too much, or something like that,” she said.

“But I never hear them talk, or laugh, or even huff at doing a mistake, and

Ms. Brooks seems to encourage them a lot, they shouldn’t be cold towards her,”

“Yeah Ms. Brooks does help out a lot, she’s a very rigorous teacher, and her techniques are hard to learn, but whenever anyone needs help, they can always ask her.” she said, “so do you want to get some ice cream? I‘ve been craving it all day.” Lulu spoke in very sincere tone, but during that conversation she seemed stiffer, and more rehearsed.

When I came next week I was more determined to not feel defeated, Ms. Brooks spent ten minutes personally helping me. I again expected all the girls to give me dirty looks of jealousy, but they weren’t being nice nor mean, they had the same look. The studio could catch on fire and they would still be twirling. Our session came to an end and I felt a little confident.

“Hey Ms. Brooks have you seen Lulu?”

“She’s not here today because she called in sick,”

“Oh, okay thanks.”

As I exited the studio, my dad was honking at me so I was in a rush, but I had forgotten my socks in the locker room, when I went back inside a girl was on the floor shaking like a pinball machine. But Ms. Brooks was over her injecting in her a neon colored liquid, I pretended that I had seen nothing, but I felt her eyes on me. I ran to my car without looking back.

A new start of a week came, and Monday felt beautiful, the sun wasn’t burning out too much, and a sheet of clouds covered our sky, it was the perfect blend. I was changing in the studio lockers, and I over heard Ms. Brooks talking with someone on the phone, the other person on the line seemed to be in a panic, but our instructor was assuring them that she knew nothing. I went into the studio, and was looking for a familiar face, but I couldn’t spot Lulu. I didn’t even think about asking the girls, since I knew I wouldn’t even get a whisper. I brushed it off, and Ms. Brooks came in, she seemed annoyed, and throughout the entire lesson she spoke to us in a rude tone. I diffidently wasn’t going to ask her for Lulus whereabouts.

A week had passed, ballet was going normal, nothing had changed, everyone was still gloom, but Lulu was not coming at all. This was worrying me to a great extent, except I didn’t have her number, and I didn’t even know where she lived. I tiptoed my way to Ms. Brooks office, she was in a thirty minute meeting, so we were just stretching. I was looking for some sort of address book, something to tell me where she lived. I scrambled through folders and cabinets, I knew that what I was doing was completely bad. Nothing was coming up, her office was feeling like a desert. Until I found the most disturbing thing ever, deep in her third file cabinet I found a binder. Little snippets of red, blonde, black, and brown hair laid stuck against frosty white paper with sharpie inked names under them. I quickly closed the magenta binder, I was in a complete panic, why did Ms. Brooks have hair in binders? I went on to go through the books she had on a huge cherry wood bookcase. But as I moved the books the entire bookcase would move, it felt dingy, I forcefully injected my fingers into the sides, until it budged like an actual door. I was in utter shock, that I asked myself out loud, “Ms. Brooks has a secret room in her office?”

The only natural thing I could do was to go inside, the place was dark and chilly, and a tiny hall led me to a room smaller than mine. There I saw what I never thought I would see, my friend Lulu, laid on a metal table, unconscious, and prepped for some sort of surgery. She was completely bald, and her pile of blond hair was stuffed in a zip lock bag. The entire room looked like a scientists usual lab, bottles with weird names were in long rows, and sharp gleaming tools were scattered on the counter space.

“What has she done to you?” I said

And an unexpectedly unwanted voice made me body flinch with fear.

“So, do you want to know everything or what is going to happen to you?” said Ms. Brooks. I had turned around, her skin was a tomato red, and her eyes were a midnight black. She had a syringe needle in her hand full with a green substance.

“Ms. Brooks, please don’t do anything to us, we haven’t done anything to you,” I said. My heart raced harder and harder every time she came near me.

“Well honey that’s too bad, because now you will become like all of them, and you would be my little robot, and you’ll all do what I say without complaints! soon this little trash of a studio will be the best in the city, and one day of the entire country!”

“You cant do that! I wont let you do that.” I yelled. She suddenly jumped on me, I punched her in the nose, and I tried to fight her off, I ran to the hall, but she managed to stab my left leg. I felt my heart start beating slower, and my sight turned black.

“One and two, and one and two, and twirl, twirl, twirl, and jump,” it said. “Good job ladies, next week we will sign up for our roles in the play.”

I saw Lulu, and I approached her to see if she was okay, she didn’t reply to me, I turned her around and her face was empty. She looked like all the other girls. I managed to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my face read nothing, but inside I was screaming like a mad man. My heart dropped, I kept screaming for help, but no one seemed to care.