Weak Ankles

A petite young girl with dirty blonde hair yanked tightly in a small spiral bun at the nape of her neck, pushes the heavy dirt spotted, metal door closed behind her. She stares at the worn, graying wooden floor and bites her pink, swollen, tattered lips. She immediately tastes hard copper and makes a sour face as dark red blood flows past her lips. Her rose red tongue flicks out and cleans them. She runs her fingertips over her bun to secure loose tendrils of gold hair. A few loose hairs stick up at the top of her forehead as she tries desperately to lay them down. She gives up with an exasperated huff of air.

Her hands shake as she places her size 6, custom crafted, pale pink ballet slippers next to an ancient off white folding chair. The dull chair moans and groans as she rests herself upon the antique. She tucks a few lose wayward strands of hair behind her left ear. She wipes her small hands on the thighs of her tights as she leans forward. She rolls her head back on her shoulders, stretching the muscles in her long, lean neck. She rolls and shrugs her tiny shoulders forward and...