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    Withen gazed out the window of the SUV, her heart thumping furiously against her heaving chest. Her eyes faintly acknowledged the lushness of the fruitful trees growing in London as they flashed past the window. She had other things to think about. I have... Withen glanced at her watch. Approximately one hour, twelve minutes, thirty-six seconds before I get to audition for the Timolton Opera Ballet School! At the thought of that, her heart seem to momentarily cease movement. The famous Timolton Opera Ballet School! Me- auditioning there! She felt a sudden need to unleash all her pent-up energy. But seeing as she was crammed into the backseat of the car, while her energy seemed to need a whole country to exult on....she merely started tapping anxiously on the window seal.
    "Now stop that nervous tapping Withen. You're an exceptionally talented dancer, they couldn't possibly refuse you." Her grandma's attempted pacifistic words fished a smile from Withen- but nothing more. Withen desperately wished her mom had accompanied her to the audition, but her mom had understandingly, but firmly said that she couldn't go, business called. So now Grandma is driving me there. Withen sighed under her breath. Having the familiar scent of her mother's orchid lavender perfume with her would have been just that much more soothing.
    "Honey, we're here." Withen jerked her head up. There it was. Timolton Opera Ballet School. The grounds were immense, and rich, green tress sprouted neatly on each side of the driveway. The building itself was one that seemed fished right out of a fairy tale. The moss-covered bricks stood sturdily with flowered vines hugging its surface. Intricate carvings of little angels bordered the edges, its detailed carvings slightly murky as it was drowned by the brick's weathered look. "It's stunning!" Breathed Withen. I could be living here! Studying here! Dancing ballet every single day here! A ball of hot, burning desire and determination seem to grow larger and larger within her until she felt as if she just might explode. A shiver trickled down her spine, suppressing that ball. This was it! This was what she had been dreaming, working for her whole life! "Ready Withen?" Withen snapped out of her enchantment, and saw her grandma park the car along the driveway and get out. Withen inhaled deeply, the tranquil mist of the early morning placed a placid spell upon her. "Ready."
    "Remember, this audition is going to be just like a regular class." A young woman smiled at the anxious faces of the girls. They were all dressed in pink leotards, their hair tied tautly back into a bun. The locker room was stiff with anticipation. "There will be a panel of judges in the back of the room- but ignore them. Just concentrate on doing your best!" The woman urged them encouragingly to do a bit of warm-up in the locker room while they were waiting. Withen gladly obliged and set herself to the familiar rhythm of stretching and bending.
    "Ok girls! It's time for the real thing!" All the girls wore an expression of being freshly slapped on the face as they followed uniformly behind the woman.
    Withen was too preoccupied with her nerves to look around the studio. "Listen up! My name is Mrs. Markay and I'll be your teacher for today. Let's start by the barres. Into position please!" She clapped her hands and the girls scattered to their places according to the number that was pinned to their leotards.
    Withen settled down, her fingers elegantly skimming the tip of the barre, her feet moving like feathers swayed by the wind. After what seemed like a relatively short time, Mrs. Markay was having them preform pirouettes across the studio. Withen registered the instructions faintly before twirling viciously across the floor, her body bent to a shape that resembled a dragon, drifting resolutely across the sky. The dragon was just about to touch upon the very summit of the skies- when she heard her name. "Withen Cien!" She turned her head sharply to the corner of the room where the teacher and her grandma stood. Grandma? Withen hurried over. Mrs. Markay's face was grave, and her grandma's eyes had grief and shock carved roughly into them. "What Grandma?" Her grandma didn't answer, but led her out of the studio and into the empty locker room. "W-Withen...." "What?" "W-Withen...." Her grandma embraced Withen with such emotion that Withen allowed herself to be hugged. "What grandma?" Her grandma glanced down at her and a single tear slipped from her eye. "Withen....your...." And then suddenly, Withen understood with such shock that she seemed unable to breathe. No... The ground seemed to split open just as her mind did. Her heart felt like it was being sucked down into a hole of which it would never be recovered. Her heart was being torn from her. No! No! Withen grabbed blindly for the wall, but she was being sucked down,
down, down, down.
    "Withen honey, it's time to come out."
    "No."
    "You can't stay there forever."
    "I can."
    A huge sigh. "Look Withen...we have to face it dear. I'll be right by you, we'll face it together, then it won't hurt as much."
    "There is nothing to face."
    "Withen...."
    "Just go."
    "Withen- you have to keep living. Your mom wouldn't have wanted you to empty all the life out of you on account of her."
    "Just go. Please."
    A pause. "I'll be here Withen. Whenever you feel like coming out." Footsteps. Her grandma had left the locked door.
    Withen had trapped herself in her mom's bathroom as soon as her grandma had brought her back from the audition. She couldn't face the world. The outside world where people laughed, where people got excited, where people dreamed, where they were happy. It was impossible for them to be happy. How could they be happy when the world around Withen was slowly shattering into tiny unrepairable pieces? She laid her head against the bathtub. What does it feel like to be happy? Was I ever really happy? She couldn't remember that emotion anymore. It felt like years had passed since she had screamed in utter excitement at the letter that had said she had an audition for the Timolton Opera Ballet School. But it was only one week ago.
    Withen's breath seemed to jam in her throat as the reality slowly seeped in. Her mom would never walk up the driveway anymore. She would never giggle with Withen over the neighbor's ugly temper. Her mom would never be there. Her mom would never be there to huge Withen and kiss her. Her mom was gone.
    Withen wanted to sleep, so she could forget and have the peace of not thinking- but she couldn't. Every time she gave way to her sleepiness, an image of a yellow car tearing down a road at wild speed came rushing into her mind. Then a little blue car with a woman inside talking on the phone distractedly, the yellow car made an illegal turn, the woman was still talking, checking her lipstick in the mirror. They collided. No no no! This can't be happening to me! Wake up! Please! But she was already awake. Even so, the little blue car, the yellow car, them diving into each other....the flashes of these visions were tormenting her. I need ballet. I'll dance till I can't think anymore. She starting dancing in what little space there was in the bathroom. Let me fly! She willed her legs higher then ever. Let me fly! She stretched her arms out towards heaven. Suddenly, there was a knock. Withen immediately recoiled into the corner.
    "Withen. I thought you might look at this." An envelope slid into the bathroom from under the door crack. Withen reluctantly took it and opened it.
    Dear Ms. Withen Cien;
Though you were not able to attend the full audition, due to your mournful situation, the judges have agreed to let you pass to the callback audition for Timolton Opera Ballet school. We thought your performance in the time you remained in the audition was exceptional and we find you extremely talented. If you agree to give Timolton Opera Ballet School a chance, the callback audition will be on Tuesday, June 27. We hope you will attend. Thank You.
Sincerely,
Norbert Lance
The Timolton Opera Ballet School
    Give Timolton Opera Ballet School a chance? She stared at the letter clutched in her palms. I could. I could give it a chance. I'll start anew. I'll learn to accept what happened-eventually, but now I need ballet. Ballet was something she knew she could depend upon, to shed her emotions into each kick of the grand battement, to throw her visions into each spin of the pirouette. She could do it. I'll give Timolton Opera Ballet School a chance. I'll give life a chance. I'll give myself a chance.
    She knew she could, Withen unlocked the door, and threw it open.
`    She was ready.