Day Two - Conversations Of Ballerinas

A few months ago, I started writing this short about a lifeguard who has a physical therapist and her patient come in to his pool and exercise. The patient is a young girl who is missing both legs from the knee down, and she learns to swim and falls in love with water. And the lifeguard. 

I wrote a first draft of the story and put it away for awhile like I always do. I pulled it out again today and was looking over it and decided to try an exercise we had learned in one of my writing classes where we write a scene that may or may not make it into the final draft, but it gives us a better perspective of the characters and helps us learn. 

So Day Two is a scene between the lifeguard Ryan and the patient Rosie. 

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“Why do you love the water so much now?”

Rosie slipped her hand in Ryan’s, repositioning her head on his stomach.

She didn’t answer the question right away, just watched as she ran her fingers along his.

“I used to want to be a ballerina,” Rosie began quietly. “My dad took me to my first lesson when I was four. It’s my first real memory, to be honest. I had this bright purple tutu. All the other girls had pink, but I was so proud to be different. I felt like I stood out. Anyways, when the lesson was over, my dad smiled at me and told me he was so proud of me. I think I latched onto that moment my whole life. I think I convinced myself that I was in love with ballet just to relive that moment, just to see if he would ever say it again.”

Ryan squeezed her hand and scooted down to lie next to her, kissing her forehead.

“After, after the accident,” Rosie began again after taking a deep breath, “My therapist said I had to do it for me. She said if I wanted to get better, if I wanted my life back, I had to do it for me. I had to want it for myself. Ballet wasn’t an option. I mean, for the obvious reasons. You kind of need legs to do ballet.”

Ryan pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her, just resting his lips against her head.

“But it wasn’t an option because I didn’t love it,” Rosie started again. “That first days she took me to the pool, to your pool, I was terrified. But I was glad for the emotion. It meant I was feeling something. She helped me into the water and I felt peace like I never had before. But I was still terrified. I felt like I was so utterly weak, like the accident had defeated me, and now the water would, too. But that peace. I couldn’t get over that peace. So I told my physical therapist I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to get strong in the water. I wanted it. So I started swimming.

“And the terror?” Ryan asked, brushing her hair with his fingers.

“Still there,” Rosie answered, laughing softly. “Until I get in the water. And then the peace takes over. And I just swim.”

“For you,” Ryan said softly.

Rosie smiled. “For me.”