"Frayed Ribbons" by Brinna K.

[ShortStoryContest]

The following story has been selected as a featured runner-up in our 2015 short story contest (Contest Theme - "The Self-Destructiveness of Vengeance and Hate")

"Frayed Ribbons" by Brinna K.

Anya Petrova walked through the silent corridors of the theater. The darkness was so thick it was almost tangible, but her feet knew these halls better than her own home.

The girl soon found herself in one of the dressing rooms, flipping on the lights and plopping her bag on the counter top. Unzipping it revealed a pair of well-worn ballet shoes, which she examined lovingly for a moment before slipping them on. After tying the ribbons expertly around her ankles, she headed onto the stage.

She started her music, warming up her tired muscles. It was late, and the only reason she was allowed into the building was because she was very close friends with the caretaker, Sergey Luniov. But she had sacrificed rest to practice many times before, and she never had cause to regret it. It was especially important now. A spot had opened up in the Grand Russian Ballet, and she was determined to be the one that filled it.

Rising En Pointe, Anya didn’t notice Sergey in the shadows, observing her. He’d admired the dancing girl since she’d first started performing with the theater, at only eight years old. Through the many years of shows, they had talked often, and were extremely good friends. He loved when she came to rehearse late at night. The grace with which she performed each move was a spectacle he could lose himself in.

After she had perfectly executed about a dozen different routines, her music stopped, and Sergey stepped from behind the curtain, quietly applauding her. “Beautiful, as always. But sleep is important as well, Anya. You seem to forget that at times.”

Anya grinned a little as they embraced. “I know. But I can’t help it sometimes. The stage calls to me.”

She took her CD out of the sound system, then headed back to the dressing rooms. After changing into street clothes and saying good bye to her friend, she left.

~

Two weeks passed, bringing waves of anticipation to the theater. All of the students were nervously warming up, making small talk as they turned and jumped. Anya was among them, but remained silent, keeping her confidence to herself.

A hush filled the room when their instructor entered, followed by a stern-looking man and a handsome youth. They were introduced as Andrei and Yuri Igorovich, the director of the Grand Russian Ballet and his son.

The girls formed a line, standing neatly in fifth position while Andrei spoke with their instructor. Yuri seemed to be looking for a particular dancer, but his eyes never lingered on any.

Just as the examinations were about to begin, in rushed a blonde girl, hastily tying her hair into a bun and apologizing to the teacher before taking her place at the end of the line. Director Igorovich seemed unfazed by the latecomer, merely ordering the first girl in line to step forward and say her name.

The two visitors wrote each dancer’s name on a clipboard and told them to perform a series of moves, the set different each time. When they got to Anya, it was clear they were beginning to get bored of less than exceptional routines. But she was determined to wow them. She wouldn’t let them leave without remembering her. And so, after she stated her name, she performed the steps they asked of her with a stunning perfection and ease. Her face remained neutral when she’d finished, but she was pleased to see that the examiners appeared interested in the very least.

Anya relaxed as the number to be examined dwindled. While all of her comrades were very talented, they were not as skilled as she was. She had prepared much more, and she was confident that she’d be selected as a finalist at the very least.

Andrei and Yuri stopped in front of the last girl, the one who’d been late. The director’s face remained impassive, but Yuri grinned wolfishly and spoke.

“It’s good to see you again, Mariya.” He said quietly. Mariya, in turn, gave Yuri a small but provocative smile.

Anya felt her stomach drop. She didn’t turn her head as she sensed some of the other students did, but she felt the color drain from her face as Andrei hissed at his son to shut up. Mariya gave them her full name, then was commanded to do a series of turns and jumps.

While her performance wasn’t as perfect as Anya’s had been, it was still very well done, and her apparent connection to the director’s son put her far ahead of them all. Yuri’s smile had grown as he’d watched, and his father also looked impressed. When she’d bowed, the two visitors spoke again with the theater instructor, then left.

As soon as they were gone, everyone flocked around the small girl who had become a celebrity in a matter of seconds. Excited questions were tossed around, but Anya stayed rooted to her spot. Everything she’d dreamed about since she was a child, all of her hard work… It seemed to vanish before her.

Darkness clouded her vision as she prepared to leave. But as she threw one last hate-filled glance at the small group hovering around Mariya, her mind was crystal clear.

~

It felt like an eternity, waiting for the statement letter. Anya kept her face neutral during class, but her blood boiled whenever someone congratulated Mariya. No one seemed to have any doubt that she would be accepted as a finalist, even though she hadn’t performed as well as Anya. Anya, who spent her now-sleepless nights with Sergey Luniov, who seemed to be the only one that stood with her.

She often came in the middle of the night, dark circles under her eyes, and he would hold her as she cried tears of both anguish and fury, letting the hatred inside her grow until soon it was all she could see.

~

Three weeks after the director’s visit, the theater received a letter with the Grand Russian Ballet’s insignia. Everyone held their breath as their instructor sliced through the envelope, silently anticipating the words they all knew were coming.

“The Grand Russian Ballet has selected Mariya Shikova to compete for a place with our association.”

Anya tuned out after that. She already knew everything that was going to be said, with the exception of which routine Mariya would be required to perform, and she no longer wanted that knowledge. Now she just wanted to get away. So as soon as practice was over, she walked straight out to her car and headed to the theater, not even bothering to change.

Sergey found her in her favorite dressing room, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. He didn’t ask what had happened, just placed a hand on her shoulder. She stood and turned, attempting to dry her eyes as she spoke.

“A shred of me still hoped. I prayed that Director Andrei would ignore his son. But as soon as Miss Chenkova opened the letter, I knew they’d chosen Mariya. I despise her, Sergey.” Her voice was frighteningly calm, but Sergey ignored it, wrapping his arms around her as she sobbed into his shoulder. When she pulled away, however, he noticed that her beautiful blue eyes were empty of their usual spark. And it scared him.

~

Mariya practiced her routine over and over again, usually staying very late. It was “The Dying Swan,” a dance Anya had long ago perfected, and one night, Mariya decided to ask her for some advice, as the girl had come back to see Sergey.

“Anya, I’m glad you’re here! It seems that no matter what I do, Miss Chenkova says I don’t look convincing. I was told you were the expert on this routine, do you have any tips for me?”

Anya gave a tiny grin. “The key to the entire dance is to fully believe that you are dying. But you must fight to rise just once more.”

The blonde girl laughed. “That’s it? Its almost too easy. But I might as well try.”

Mariya started the music while Anya stood behind the curtains, the familiarity of the song drowning her in a flood of emotions. Tears began to stream down her face as she watched the girl dance. Everything she had ever wanted had been ripped from her. She was nothing.

“Believe you are dying, Mariya!” She shouted, stepping out from the shadows. Her vision was blurred, but she raised the pistol in her hand and fired three crisp, loud shots.

Mariya staggered as the bullets found their mark. Blood seeped through her leotard and onto the stage as she fell, her eyes lifeless. And as Anya looked into the dull brown irises, she sighed.

Sergey ran as fast as he could to the stage, knowing what he’d find but praying that it was something else. His heart plummeted when he saw that he was correct in his assumptions. Anya stood over the body of Mariya Shikova, a gun in her hand.

For a moment he was too stunned to do anything. But then Anya began to raise the firearm.

“Anya, no!” He screamed, sprinting across the platform. But he didn’t reach her before another shot rang out.

Sergey watched as the beautiful dancer fell as gracefully as if she were still alive. But when he knelt beside her, her eyes glazed over and the pistol fell from her hand.

The music that continued in the background almost seemed to be mourning with Sergey, as his cries filled the theater while he wept over his swan.

[DATo]

Nice story Brinna. You captured the theme required by the short story contest as well as the theme of Tchaikovsky's immortal Swan Lake quite well. I could actually hear the theme playing as Sergey knelt beside Anya. I was hoping for a happier ending but life is not all happiness and your story is a reminder that Fate does not always satisfy our dreams. Very well done!

[zeeshan002]

Sergey ran as fast as he could to the stage, knowing what he’d find but praying that it was something else. His heart plummeted when he saw that he was correct in his assumptions. Anya stood over the body of Mariya Shikova, a gun in her hand.

_______________________
aliii

[Carla Hurst-Chandler]

Brilliant!

[iekelek23]

Elegant, like the swan it describes. I was really pushing for Anya--you've made it so easy to empathize with her. I think we've all felt like that at least once, though acting on that desperation is a different matter. I will say, Mariya had some nerve asking Anya for help.

[ronsard]

Gosh, this story really took me in for ride. And I can honestly say I didn't see that ending coming although I suggest you may want to stretch the ending longer, so readers aren't just hit with that brick wall of emotions and then left behind to weep. But to quote above, "Brilliant!"