Rewrite The Stars

Chapter 1

I looked down at my phone’s screen to check the time. It was almost three. I had told myself that I would do it as soon as my parents fall asleep. But even though all lights were off by eleven, I still couldn’t do it. I had my black hoodie and jeans on and my backpack was packed for everything I needed and sat at the corner of the room. I sat on my bed, my elbows on my knees, and my gaze fixed on nowhere.

     There had to be a way to help me make this decision, I kept thinking to myself. I had thought that I knew what I really wanted, that I knew what I was doing. But all I did was to sit on my bed, too afraid of what the future held for me. So I tried to remember what had happened that same day, to give myself a little push to go on with this.

     That day was the first day back at high school after the Christmas break. As I walked the halls, I could feel all the eyes on me, and not in a good way. I could hear their whispers and the murmurs about me. Apparently when your boyfriend breaks up with you when he suddenly realizes that he’s gay after you two lose your virginities together, it is a hot gossip to talk about at school. So seeing as there was no way to stop it, I decided to ignore it.

     But that day surely didn’t get better when I got home. I didn't bother to come out of my bedroom until dinner. With my parents being at the verge of a divorce, they didn’t really leave me much of a choice.

     I had gotten my chocolate-brown skin from my mother and my hazel eyes from my dad, and growing up, I always felt connected to them. I could still remember how close we used to be, all three of us. Thinking back, I can’t put a finger on what had gone wrong that ruined everything. But I guess that’s just how the Time works.

     Even though my parents were past the yelling and shouting stage, the deadly silence around the table wasn’t a picnic either. But finally, for the first time, I decided to break the silence.

     “I called Lauren today.” I said as I moved the vegetables around on my plate with the fork.

     “Lauren? Hmm...” Dad started. “She sounds familiar.”

     “The girl from my ballet class?” I reminded him. “She's come to our house at least thirty times! How can you not remember her!?”

     “Ooh! I remember! The blonde girl! Right?” He said cheerfully, but I rolled my eyes before continuing,

     “We talked today. And she told me about her school.”

     “The one that she went to in New York?” asked Mom.

     “Yeah.” I nodded. “Juilliard School. It's the best there is. She said everything's great there. They have dormitories in the campus so we live there while we're–”

     “Excuse me,” Dad cut me off. “What do you mean 'we'?” and it was at that moment that I remembered, I hadn't told them about my plans of auditioning for the entrance to that school.

     “Well...” I started, placing my fork down on the table. “I was hoping to enroll in Juilliard after graduation.”

     Silence was hunting down the shadowy dining room as my parents looked at each other and then back at me, not daring to breathe or even utter a word for long moments.

     “You mean college's graduation, though, right?” My mom spoke hesitantly, even though she knew deep down that I was talking about High School.

     “No.” I shook my head scantly. “I mean next year.”

     And then Dad asked me a question I was dreading to hear all night:

     “What about college, then?” he started. “Don't you want to study?”

     “What for?” that came out the wrong way.

     “To be able to live, that's what for!” Mom retorted. “We study so we can earn more money by working less!”

     “But I don't see myself as a doctor or an architect or a lawyer!” I argued. “I want to be a dancer! You both know this is what I've wanted since I was a kid!”

     “Yes, Zoe, we know this. Which is why we sent you to ballet classes!” Mom reasoned while Dad had fallen completely silent at that point. “We support you, honey. But isn't it more sensible to go and study and get yourself a job that can actually make you some money, and dance alongside as a hobby?”

     My jaw fell open. “Hobby?” I repeated. “So that's what you think this is!? After years of practicing!? A hobby!?”

     “Well where do you think this will take you!?” she continued. “The greatest you can go is to... what!? Dance in theatres!? And the best role you can get is what!? The swan lake!?”

     “Well it's better than where you think my future should be!” I shouted, losing my temper. “You want me to go to college!? Well the greatest I can do in that case is to get good grades, get a job in a boring company, marry a guy, have kids, and then die! At least in the first case scenario I get to do what I truly want! I get to follow my dream!”

     “I won’t allow you to go anywhere before you've finished college!”

     “Won’t allow me!?” I scoffed. “Well guess what!? I wasn't waiting for your permission! I just wanted your blessing! And you know what!? I don't need it anymore! For your more information, I've already sent an application and they’ve accepted it and have given me a live audition chance and it's on February twenty-third! I would rather go and dance around in theatres than have a boring life like you!”

     The silence which reigned our surroundings was brutal this time, but that too was bound to be broken.

     “You did what!?” Mom spoke, glaring daggers at my direction and daring me to repeat myself with her eyes.

     “f**k this.” I muttered as I stood up, storming out and going upstairs to my room, slamming the door behind me.

     “I FORBID YOU FROM GOING ANYWHERE! YOU HEAR ME, ZOE COLEMAN!?” she shouted at me as I locked the door behind me, breaking into tears immediately.

     Leaning against the door, I slowly sank down and sat on the cold floor as I cried in pain. The pain of realization, that this was how my parents had planned my life to be. And I feared it with all I had in me. So I just sat there and tried to picture my life years from now if I were to head down that road.

     I would go to college, spend four years of my youth studying hard in a field that don’t even understand, let alone like. I would be stuck in a dead-end boring job. Eventually I would marry someone to make my parents happy. The first year or two would be nice, but as the days go by, the love would die out. After some while, I would get pregnant. Me and my husband would feel closer together at first, yes. But after a few years that I’m busy raising the children, forgetting all about my dreams, he would take a lover. I’ll make a fuss at first and scream my lungs out and he would promise that it would never happen again. But the second time that it happens and I figure it out, I would just let it go and act like a fool. I would remember my dream again. The dream of being a dancer. But I would look in the mirror at myself, up and down, and realize that it’s too late. Would that marriage end in a divorce, or would I die trying to forget and trying to act the fool, I don’t know.

     But I did know one thing for certain, as I sat there on my bed with my black hoodie and jeans on and my ready-to-go backpack nearby, that, that was not going to be my future. I wouldn’t allow it. Because I still believed. I still knew how to dream. And I wasn’t one to give up.

     So I stood off my bed and threw my backpack over my shoulder. The air was hardly reaching my lungs as it had become difficult for me to breathe. I tiptoed downstairs and opened the front door and exited it, closing it behind me. And on I went.

     The hardest part was preventing myself from looking back at the house as the distance grew between us. My childhood home… Where I first had learned how to ride a bicycle, where I had many fake tea-partied with my friends, where I had first realized that ballet was my present and my future.

     As I looked up above me, I saw that the sky was freckled with stars, but my sight became blurry in no time as tears blocked my eyes and the lump in my throat intensified.

     I knew I couldn't turn back anymore, because my pride would've blocked my way. Even though I hated crying, I knew that this time these falling tears were worth it.

     Because I was finally following the path I'd made for myself; the path that the stars had lightened up for me.

     This was my destiny.

     I was going to New York.