"You're not doing that move right, do it again." The words from the last practice almost as if sat down with her as she rested on the small table made out of straw. It wasn't very comfortable, but It was the better option compared to sitting on the dust filled set of stairs. Practice would start in about 15 minutes. "Are you even listening? Do you even care about this dance? Do you even realize how important this event is for the group? Do it again. " Her ears rang, her body went numb for a minute, she took this opportunity to rest. She noticed that her dirty blonde hair wasn't combed at all. Must have forgotten to do it this morning, but that doesn't really matter. Practice would start in about 10 minutes. Time's up, time to dress up, the instructor would yell about the skirt being too dirty again, so she must be extra careful this time. "You are completely hopeless, look at everyone else! Do you see that they already got the move on the first try. How come are you the only one that doesn't understand? " Her mouth felt bitter as she put on one of her black leggings, however, her hand was shaking, as she felt her eyes getting puffy. The tears rolled down, there's no stopping it now. She put on the other legging, feigning ignorance to the mess that was developing on her face. But how can she not cry? How can she pretend that she's happy with this? That it's fun? But practice would start in about 5 minutes. "You should just go home, you're wasting everyone's time here. Come back tomorrow early morning, I'll train you personally. " Her foot started to hurt the moment she squeezed on those ballerina shoes. All the fatigue that came from them, all the shouting that came from them, all the pain that came from them. It was the part she hated the most. She hated putting them on. Practice would be starting in a minute, the personal practice. With that instructor. It was time to go. Wiping her tears away, she couldn't help but stare at her bruised arm. What was she doing this for? It clicked. It isn't fun, it wasn't what she wanted at all, she stood up. Her feet hurt again, but it didn't bother her this time. "I won't give up, I can't chicken out this time. " She will take off those ballerina shoes, they weren't fit for her, she could tell. This time, she'll ask her mom, she was always scared to tell her the truth since she was afraid that she wouldn't believe her. But this time, she'll tell her actual dreams and hopes, what she actually wanted to do. She won't be scared of their opinions anymore. Although practice started, it was her time to move on her own, and it didn't hurt this time.