The Dancer

WARNINGS: abuse

The young, scared girl swayed her small hips back and forth automatically.  There was no passion in the movement; but the crowd didn't pay attention to her dead eyes or wet cheeks.  They paid attention to her body, hypnotized by its actions.  People never paid attention to anything else.  Everyone was the same.  Nobody seemed to care about her.; they never wondered about how she was trained.  They never felt the whip lashing her if she moved too stiffly.  They couldn't grasp the pain of a truly empty stomach; punishment for if she practiced poorly.  All they saw was the finished product.  A sixteen year old who could dance like magic.  Not one of them new she was twelve.  Or that the five layers of makeup covered every inch of skin, hiding the bruises and the welts and the skeleton-thin appearance.  So every night of the show the girl continued to dance, and nobody cared enough to save her.

-Zoe