The Swan Queen The White Swan - - 15 year old girl dances for a ballet studio (outgoing) Studio is putting on a production of swan lake Swan queen needs to dance the white and black swan White swan is calm and peaceful Black swan is fierce, seductive, and spontaneous She needs to learn to dance both roles with the required emotion and harmony Personality matches the black swan Needs to learn to dance the white swan (show pain and happiness – raw emotions) Best friend helps her find what is keeping her from embracing the role (known for 2 years) Dad left at age of 8 Mom and brother died on a road trip at 13 Lives with foster parents Prologue The thick, hot air refused to enter my lungs; I couldn’t breathe. The smoke was suffocating and my vision of them was blurry, due to the heat of the flames. I could hear the wailing of a siren in the distance, and see the flashing light through the fog. My head was heavy, making everything unclear. Even the faint outline I had of her was almost unrecognizable. Her once joyful eyes, full of light and energy were now closed, putting her in a deep slumber that would last forever. To her right, he was laying dead still, his eyes still open, staring straight at me. Then the water rose, engulfing me into the depths of the sea. I was sinking, going lower and lower. Above me, his chapped lips opened slightly, to utter the five words that I knew like the back of my hand by now. “This is all your fault”. I sat up with a jolt, taking long, deep breaths to subside the panic. I had known I was dreaming; I knew it every time. But it felt real all the same, making me relive the worst moment of my life over and over. Each night, the same dream. I got out of bed and looked at my clock. 7:00 am Shit. I had overslept. The floor creaked as I tip toed over to Michael’s bedroom door. I released a sigh of relief after hearing the racket of his snoring. Good, he was still asleep. I didn’t have enough time to complete the tasks listed on the paper on the kitchen counter, unless I got late for class, though that wasn’t a sacrifice I was willing to make. I’d deal with his outburst when I got back from the studio. Now, as awake as ever, I rushed to the bathroom and returned ten minutes later; my teeth brushed, my hair up in a tight bun. Throwing on a pair of sweats and a red sweater over my leotard, I grabbed my bag and coat from behind the door and started outside, into the frosty air of the morning. Chapter 1 “D’accord, tout les filles! Ecoute sil vous plait!” Madame Louise called all of us to sit down and listen. As I predicted, as soon as we sat down, she clasped her hands together and said excitedly, “For our grand production this year, we will be performing a classic, a quite well known story that has been performed countless times in theater”.
