Posted on

Short Story Runner-Up: Belonging by Rebecca Downey

We’re delighted to publish the winners and runners-up from our 2022 short story competition for Irish teens, in association with Tertulia Books. This year our theme was “Belonging” and our guest judge was Claire Hennessy. Belonging by Rebecca Downey (age 16) was a runner-up in our senior category.

Belonging

When I got the emails telling me I wasn’t wanted, I wasn’t by myself. I was on break at ballet with other dancers. Sometimes I wonder, if I had been alone, would my reaction have been different? When I read the emails, I know I did feel something in my heart. But I told myself I would think about it later when I was alone. I never really did, though. And that foreseen moment that should have been the scariest moment of my life, for some reason, passed me by. 

18/4/2021

When I woke up this morning, I wanted to do ballet. I did Maria Khoreva’s barre and centre class and also her turnout video. I never feel happier than when I am dancing by myself. In her centre video, I was worried I wouldn’t achieve the fouettés but then I was like, OMG, this is something I can actually do! I know I am getting better too because I tried this choreography last year and couldn’t do it but now I can! My balances are improving, and I actually like how my adage looks. I am proud of myself, and I have been putting in so much extra work lately and it is paying off. But today I just felt so happy. Isn’t that such a special thing? This is what makes me… I keep settling to write the word ‘happy’, but no. That is nowhere near the intensity I feel. A word hasn’t been created yet for how much I love ballet. Now I am crying writing this because I am just so happy that ballet is a part of my life. I will never stop loving ballet. It is my hope. And fear. I love ballet too much not to become a ballerina. I can’t see a future without ballet. Ballet is my soul.

Have you ever felt like this? When you wish that night will come, so you can sit in front of the TV? Me neither. Until this July. I don’t know why, though. Because when I sit in front of that TV, it feels unnatural and forced. Ironically, nights are also the time I dread. Lying in bed, unable to sleep, probably from the lack of exercise, is when the thoughts rush to my mind, one million of them a second. Thoughts about how the only thing that I have ever considered for the last three years, my biggest dream in the world, my promise of the future, didn’t exist. And a lot of those nights, those thoughts lead to panic. No, no no, I would say, before my body thumped my heart, me feeling helplessly terrified. Then I would just cry because I hated to see myself going through this petrifying moment and feel how I felt. Sometimes it was more than once a night. But then, when I woke up, I would stimulate my brain with online clothes or episodes of TV shows. If I was honest, I would think, I don’t know who I am anymore.

I have put off the thoughts of returning to school, but now that it’s a week away, it’s the only thing I think about. I don’t overly mind academics and I’m good at them. I have no friends I like, just a group I sit with so that I’m not by myself. I hate that. Listening to their mind-numbing conversations, thinking I could be at ballet. The thought of returning to that lifestyle every day and having to laugh at my class’s jokes. I felt nauseous. And anxious. Like how I felt at nighttime. I didn’t want to put myself through that life. Not even having my dream to get me through. Sometimes, I think it’s my fault. If I had worked harder. But I know how hard I worked. Only I know how hard I worked. I could also see that this summer, my self-esteem had gone low. Because I didn’t know how to function without every day waking up with that dream in mind, bringing myself closer to it every day. Writing about it in my journal. The hard work and passion that made me happy. I don’t feel happy anymore. Spending my days without doing any of this had taken away my whole life, and to me, my identity. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I was trapping myself and suppressing a scream. But I was fine. I was sure I would do ballet again soon. Get back to a time when I could write in my journal. I was just… taking a break. Taking a long break from knowing how to survive in this world. 

25/9/2020

This morning, I was so happy and positive, I love Friday mornings! I listened to my “Swan Awake” playlist and on came Don Quixote’s Act 1 Kitri music and I love when that music plays. Then the Black Swan Coda made me dance the steps to the bus. I was so “in the zone”! The music feels like it is coming from inside and controlling me! I think Black Swan Coda is a dance I would love performing the most. It is so energetic and fiery, it would feel so special to perform  on stage. These pieces have led me to discover a side of myself, my inner Black Swan or Kitri. Listening to music is one of my favourite things to do now. As I write, I imagine performing the Black Swan Coda. After nailing those thirty-two- fouettés, you must get such a boost, and the rest is the best feeling in the world. I think listening to my powerful music is one of the best feelings in the world. I will try releasing this new fiery side more in my life and ballet. Is this side my Aries moon coming out? I never understand, ot when I am the definition of my sun Capricorn. Also, the Nutcracker Pas de Deux is the most beautiful piece of music ever created. It is… emotional. I’m never able to describe it. Something that added to my magnificent mood this morning was that ABT’s Skylar Brandt got promoted to principal! Marianela Nunez makes a brilliant black swan!

7:30pm. My mom would be here to collect me at eight. I never stayed that late at school, but after the first Career Guidance class, I was so anxious. Write about your dream job. Write about one step you can take now to bring you closer to that dream. Thinking about those words and staring at my blank page, I felt tears welling. I didn’t have a dream. Me. I didn’t have a dream. I wanted to scream again. I’ll just ignore it and become more miserable. I don’t know how to live. I’m trapped. Everything I did was gone. I was living in pain every day. My heart was beating. I didn’t want to feel like this in public. I followed my footsteps, needing to get away fast. Not even processing with my sense. Just terrified by what my heart was doing to me now. Closing a heavy door behind me, I looked around. I was in the natatorium. The pool was vast, and the dimmed lights made it look so alluring. I succumbed to the motions of my hands, playing the Sugar Plum Pas de Deux. The music was familiar, but the delicate chords that had met my ears with intense heartfelt emotion now stabbed me with pain. I looked up at the diving board. I wanted, needed, to feel a different feeling to the past months, even if it was just for one second. 

The metal felt cold under my bare feet. The board wobbled me to the precipice. For my descent, I thought it would be more exhilarating to step off, rather than an anticipated jump. Succumbing to the music, I counted down. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Jumping off was thrilling. Then I was in water. My mind froze. What has happened to me? And then, I let it out. That suppressed scream. Tears poured down my face. Helplessness. Despair: the complete loss or absence of hope. I was scared of myself. 7:50pm. I want my mom. 

This is the end of my fourth counselling session. After that night at school, I crumbled. I never open up about my worries but I was nervous for myself. Though I wasn’t happy about diving into that pool, for a second, I had wanted to do it again. So, I told my mom everything. 

Before my first session, I was reluctant and made my mom promise not to tell any of my family. I don’t like that therapy has this stigma. Or maybe it’s just me. I’m not sure. But, coming out of this session, again I feel my heart has been torn open, but I also know I’m getting better. Either way, I want to advocate for it.

Something my therapist told me was, “Ironically, we come out of depression by experiencing our deepest sadness.” I’m accepting that. Some days are okay, and some, I’m on the verge of crying all day. It had been hard, but I was gradually reading through my journal. I cry every time. I feel like I’ve never thought of myself as a “good person”, but reading my journal, I want to root for that girl. I want everything to work out for her. I can see how passionate she is. But that person is me. I am hard-working. I am a dreamer. I am pure. I am self-aware. We have worked on realising that that is still my identity. And that ballet can be a massive part of that. My therapist has encouraged me to get back to the mindful hobbies that I like. I’m doing a lot more drawing and reading now, which I enjoy making time for. She also introduced me to the world of K-Dramas, which she claimed will help me release my emotions, and she promised I would love them. I have fallen in love with K-Dramas, and I agree. I’m always in tears by the end of them. I love them too. South Korea has played many parts in my recovery because as my mom says, I have been taken in by the “Korean Wave”. Maybe. Either way, it makes me so happy. 

My therapist tells me I am an empathetic person. Maybe she’s right. I think I also feel things deeply. With reflection, I have decided I wouldn’t rather this be any other way. Sad moments are painful. But the special moments are beautiful. Noticing my ballet journal beside my bed, I picked it up. And then I started writing again. 

October Mid-Term, 2023

I can’t believe that in twelve hours, I will be on a plane to South Korea! Before I explode with excitement, let me write what our trip entails! 

Mom and I should arrive in Seoul at nine in the morning Korean time, and including hotel check-in and everything, the itinerary should begin at noon. Of course, I want to simply wander around the streets checking out cute cafés, convenience stores and K-Drama filming locations, but there are a few confirmed outings. I am making sure that we visit Seoul National University.  I’m not sure yet, but I like the sound of their psychology course, and they also offer ballet and watercolour painting classes. By the end of next year, my Korean would be good enough. At 7:00pm we are going to see the Korean National Ballet performing Swan Lake! Writing that is making me shiver — this is magical. Seeing the Black Swan Coda… this is my dream. But what I am most excited for, which I still can’t believe, is the masterclass with Korean National Ballet the following morning. I feel emotional that this is happening to me. I deserve this dream. I pull out my pocket notebook that I write my thoughts in. “Serenity,” I write. “The state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled.”