Posted: July 14, 2013 by writingsprint in Choices, Fantasy, Science fiction
Tags: , , , , ,

sword dancer

Jeana stalked into the gym at her family’s house. Her eyes blazed. Every step flared with barely contained rage. “No one talk to me,” she said. The training droids and her sparring partners didn’t say a word. She waited for her mother to comment. Nothing, yet. She followed a scalpel-straight line from the entrance to the locker room. The clatter of the door slamming behind her echoed for seconds after she was gone.

Her mother Jessica laughed. “Sorry, everyone. Jeana’s going to be on fire today.” She handed her daughter’s favorite light saber to Snow, one of the trainers. He gulped. She said, “Low power, setting two. Don’t worry, everyone. She likes you, so I don’t think anyone’s going to die today.”

Inside the locker room, Jeana went straight to hers and started changing. Her mother demanded strict discipline when it came to fighting. She had ten minutes until it was time to start. Her dance teacher was the same, only worse. Much, much, darkly, blackly, clawingly worse.

She put the bag with her dance clothes in the locker. Jeana was about to change worlds from dance class to what she nicknamed Sith class. The two were alike in a lot of ways. Passion. Grace. Precision. Jeana touched the curled edge of a picture inside her locker door, of her first solo, when she was twelve. Her chin trembled. They also shared pettiness, jealousy, and heartbreak. Her heart vibrated between sadness and rage. Jeana sighed, and her heart chose both. A few tears fell. She kept moving. In moments she had replaced her dance clothes with her training armor.

Jeana walked back into the training hall. “Bad day at class?” her mother asked.

“Mom… I said don’t talk to me.”

“Use that attitude on your training partners, young warrior. Not with me.”

Her mother tossed her the saber. Jeana looked at it funny. “Setting two? We’ve been doing four.”
“At four you’re going to kill somebody today. We don’t have any throwaway partners in here.”

Jeana cracked a grin. Some light seeped into her bitter heart. “You can always make me laugh.”

“Laughter’s good for balance.”

“And balance in the heart means passion with precision,” Jeana recited. “Someday I’m going to get you to lose it, and just see what happens.”

Her mother smiled nervously. “Oh, honey. Just make sure your helmet’s on when that day happens.”
Jeana walked into the center ring. She filled her soul with the fury she still felt, only now she set it to the melody of a song they’d been dancing to in recital practice.

It was a good day sparring for Jeana, a rough one for her partners.

What? I already did a post called “Choices”? Well, here’s another one.

The photo is from Desktop Nexus and is used without permission.

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s