Not Just Another Doll

Liza looked in the mirror with awe. Her face was smooth and brilliantly made up, like she were a tiny but tragically beautiful porcelain doll. Her perfectly done hair sparkled, almost as if the night sky had rained down its heavenly stars upon her head. She looked at her gorgeous, white glittering costume. The dress made her look dainty and elegant, though it was by far the heaviest outfit she had ever worn. Her feet were also misleading, appearing small and graceful in her shiny ribboned slippers, though in truth they were bound and blistered, begging for freedom.

Seeing her dazzling appearance, Liza had a sudden renewed hope that she really could do this, that she really could make her lifelong dream come true. Ignoring her screaming feet, something she was good at after years of practice, Liza took one last look at herself. She then turned and left the room, her stomach now tying itself in knots. She passed a myriad of girls in glittering, colorful wardrobes, and knew that behind each painted smile hid that typical green monster of raving jealous envy.

Liza walked onto the wings of the stage, silently reviewing in her head the sequence of intricate steps. Her mind was racing at the speed of a computer, though glancing at her you would have the impression that she was not thinking anything at all. Liza looked hopefully at the big stage that was now only a few feet away from her cowering shadow. The stage was bright and colorful, welcoming her with a warm glow. Liza saw it instead as her fate flashing before her eyes. One wrong move or mistimed step and she had no future.

Liza looked up suddenly when she heard the sound of tired applause politely acknowledging the previous performance. She tried to swallow the huge nervous lump forming inside her throat, now realizing she would have to be perfect to win the adulation of this crowd. Liza then heard her name announced, followed once again by the forced and tired applause. She screwed on a smile and walked gracefully onto the stage, walking toe before heel, with her chin and chest held high. Now there was no turning back. She rose to her toes.

The music began, and Liza instantly became lost in it. She forgot about her screaming feet, her uncaring audience, and let her passion for dance conquer her fears. Suddenly she was overcome with a powerful rush of adrenaline. Her spins were faster, her jumps higher, her steps sharper. At this moment, she was happier than the happiest child. Her spirit shone brighter than the most dazzling sunrise. For the first time, Liza could truly feel the beauty of her dance.

She hit her final pose. The audience that had sat on its hands for all other performances was now on its feet roaring with admiration and thundering applause. Liza could picture herself at that exact moment: star-sparkling hair, elegant dress, misleadingly graceful feet, and a proud smile of accomplishment on her tragically beautiful porcelain-doll face.