I look like someone else, a gauzy month perhaps or as my mother. The reflection of the person is far to beautiful to be myself, the sharp pounding behind my eyes starts its eager probing of my memories- as if to tell me I am barred from remembering. A rap on the door jabs at my focus. Reaching for the door I expect to see the timing manager. However, I am surprised by the business form of my uncle dressed in his dreary overcoat. I question feebly with my eyes knowing not to speak until he addressed me. His black eyes started wandering across my body, the red glint bouncing into the light as they always did when he thought of my mother, but maybe it was just the light.
"Here to give you your five minute call." he replies raising an eyebrow.
" Thanks?" I sigh making my answer more of a question then a response. I straighten my blouse and cautiously eye his from the brim of my hat. Lately, he had started coming to my practices and rehearsals, as if he needed for control over my already controlled life.
"Your costume suits you."he adds circling back behind me into the dressing room, the disturbed air causing my transparent skirt to flutter. "Your mother wore that very costume at one of her performances."
I blinked, James never mentioned my mother it being a very controlled subject at home when I was growing up. Pretty soon I stopped bringing them up, starting to fall into a submissive obedient teenager. Whenever he brought them up at random times, a snap of a memory would cause everything to go fuzzy and black.
'....it was her last performance...Enna are you alright?" his hand waves in front of my face, trying to break me from my trance. I barely notice his blurred fingers across my vision.
The dream from serval days ago blocked my sight.
She was there on the stage, smiling and pirouetting to a jazzy rag-time song. The husband and child sitting in the front row surrounded by blurring faces.
Just a dream, nothing more....or could it be?
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