janellox21

 At the age of seventeen, when they told her that she couldn't be a dancer, Hannah went back to her apartment, pulled the curtains closed, and put on a spectacular performance, twirling and sliding from one end of the room to the other.  An audience of emptiness applauded.  They cheered her on with a roaring silence.  And to the soundtrack of her panting, tired breath, Hannah danced all alone for the rest of the night. She began to practice every day.  Sleep became the enemy.  If Hannah wasn't at home going over the steps to the waltz or the flamenco or the two step, she was at the local record store buying as much music as her empty pocket