The Founder
Joined: 1 Apr 2009 Posts: 350
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I'm completely starting over. Well, not completely, but it's gonna be pretty
different from my first draft of Change. Enjoy!
Chapter 1
I sat in my bedroom, looking at a small, brown book. It was early, so early that not even
the sun was awake yet. But I couldn't sleep. Today was my interview with Mr. Ron Becker, a
TV host well-known for his show 'Celebrity Sun'. He interviewed famous figures every week,
and this week, it was me.
I looked over at my boyfriend, sleeping on the other side of our bed. He looked so
innocent, which reminded me of the days when we were young. I sat against the headboard
and closed my eyes, remembering all the games we played and the trouble we got into. Then
I looked down at the book, the one that was filled with stories and dreams. I flipped to
the first page and saw the rough draft of a story I had written in high school; a story
that took up the entire book. My life story. The words were covered with scratches and
cross-outs, arrows and notes in the margin. It didn't matter. The story was embedded in my
mind; a burning memory branded into my brain.
On the inside cover of the book, written in shaky lettering on the page, it said
"Charlie's booke. Do not opin. Or be forevver cursd." The misspellings put a smile on my
face; I had this book since before the accident, though I didn't start using it until many
years later. I had been so young, so eager when I opened the gift bag on my birthday and
saw the little brown book inside. That was back when everyone still called me Charlie. My
eyes moved across the inside cover, to the first page, and up to the title. I had thought
long and hard about what to call this story. I had changed the title so many times,
starting at "Charlie's Book" and finally deciding on "Charlotte's Story: Life Seen Through
a Burnt Ballerina's Eyes".
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Charlotte's Story: Life Seen Through a Burnt Ballerina's Eyes
Chapter 1
When I was young, I grew up in a small town in Michigan called Red Bay. It was my favorite
place in the world, and perfect for a kid like me: a tomboy. I loved diving into the pool
in the summer, crashing through red-gold leaves in the fall, knocking over snowmen heads
in the winter, and jumping in the mud in the spring. From these things, anyone could
conclude that I was also a little bit of a troublemaker; it was true. On warm days, I wore
no shoes. My casual clothes consisted of shorts and plain T-shirts.
My short red hair was almost never brushed. But my green eyes were always sparkling with
the joy of being a kid. Whenever I met somebody new, they would immediately see me as a
girl who loved to get dirty. That person was always surprised to learn that I loved
dancing.
Yes, I loved to dance; ballet, really. My mother used to be a famous ballerina, though she
stopped when she had me. I started taking lessons from my mother when I was three. We
didn't have much money, because the money stopped coming when my mom stopped dancing. So
we couldn't afford real ballet lessons, or a real ballet uniform. I always wanted a shiny,
black leotard; stretchy, pink tights; soft, purple leg warmers; and real satin, baby's
breath pink shoes. But I tried to put that dream aside, and spent my days playing in the
neighborhood.
I never played alone. My days were spent with Zack, my very best friend, who lived down
the street from me. He had spiky blue-black hair, and serious gray eyes. He took karate
lessons, and was a good fighter. He reminded me of a spy, or a ninja, because of the
quiet, sneaky way he would move around. Despite his seriousness, Zack was very fun to play
with. In fact, the older I got, the more I felt like I never had any fun unless I was with
him.
Then came Penny. She and her mom moved into the house next door to Zack. It was obvious
she was rich. Her clothes always had a neat, expensive look about them. Penny was very
pretty. Her honey-blonde hair was dyed with pink streaks, and her sweet, chocolate brown
eyes were big and adorable. She loved the color pink and wore it often, much to my
dismay-I detested the girlish color. The first impression Penny gave to everyone was
sweet, funny, and cute. I soon learned that there was nothing funny or sweet about her.
It happened in early summer, when I was seven and Penny had only been around for a few
weeks. Penny, Zack, and I were all in Zack's backyard. Zack and I were playing tag. Penny
was sitting on a lawn chair. She was always so neat, and didn't like running around or
getting dirty. She always sat out the games we played. I was fine with that, and Zack
never said anything about it either. But it was clear that Penny didn't like being left
out. She would sit with a grim look on her fave, moving only her eyes as she watched Zack
and I run around the yard. Finally, on that particular day, she stood up and wailed,
"Zaaaaack! You never play with me! I wanna do something else! Let's go inside." To my
surprise, Zack abandoned our game of tag and followed Penny inside. I simply stood there,
dumbfounded. Had that really just happened?
After that day, it seemed as if Penny had Zack under a spell. He did everything she asked
him. He would play with me, but would usually talk about what he did with Penny. And as
soon as Penny wanted to do something else, he would go with her. It made me mad that he
was spending more time with Penny than me. All my attempts of trying to get Zack's
attention failed.
The final straw came when Penny told me, right to my face to stay away from Zack. Penny
had just asked Zack to get her a drink of water. While he was inside, I ran to the picket
fence surrounding his yard to look at a stray cat I spotted out of the corner of my eye. I
never made it to the fence, though. Penny ran behind me and shoved me, knocking me to the
ground.
I blinked up at her in surprise, then asked, "What was that for?"
"Shut up," snapped Penny. I was surprised more by the actual words than her harsh tone. I
was not allowed to say ''shut up".
"Why do still play with Zack? It's obvious he likes me more. I'm more so-phis-ti-ca-ted
than you, and way prettier. You should just stay away from him forever."
I was so shocked that I couldn't say anything. I knew Penny didn't like me playing with
her and Zack, but I never really thought she disliked me so much. Well, I could be mean,
too! I vowed on that day that no matter what, I would do everything I could to tear Penny
and Zack apart.
In my eighth year of life, I did possibly the stupidest thing an eight-year old could do.
I tried to win Zack over.....with fire.
I walked over to Zack's house in a good mood, feeling as if I was seeing everything for
the first time. I was so sure that after today, Zack would forget Penny forever. I just
knew that everything would go perfectly; I had practiced for so long.
I walked over to Zack and Penny, saying "Hey, Zack, I wanna show you something!
"OK," he replied. Zack was always a boy of few words.
I reached into my pocket. My fingers closed around a small, square box. I pulled it out,
revealing a box of matches. I gathered up some leaves and put them in a pile, then
smoothed them out so that no grass could be seen. I picked up a long, skinny stick, lit a
match, and set one end of the stick on fire. Penny and Zack gasped as I waved the stick
around, and drew swirls and circles in the air. Noting the awe in Zack's eyes and the
jealousy in Penny's, I walked over to the leaves. I used the stick as a writing utensil,
and made a giant, flaming heart in the leaves, writing a "C" on one side and a "Z" on the
other.
I blew out the stick and stood with my back to the fire. "It'll go out in a second," I
explained. "Zack, then you can see what I wrote better!" I started backing up, thinking
that the fire would be out by the time I got to the leaves, where I could then whirl
around and display my beautiful design. "Did you like it, Penny?" And the next things that
happened felt like it took a million years, but in reality, it was only a few seconds.
I have found that I am very good at seeing emotions in people's eyes, which is how I saw
the fear in Zack's. He started screaming at me to stop, and ran towards me.
Penny ran towards me as well, and to anyone else, it would have looked like she was going
to help me. But I knew. It just clicked. I felt the heat of the rising flames behind me,
and that told me what Penny was planning to do. I knew what she was doing, but I couldn't
stop it, couldn't stop her, because in the next instant, Penny pretended to trip over a
stick and put her hands on my shoulders as if to keep herself upright.
But really, she pushed me into the fire.
A few moments late, Zack turned the hose on, and doused the flames. Though it had only
been in the fire for about six seconds, my entire right leg was covered with fire. I only
landed partly on the fire, but most of my right side was burnt. For a moment it was
silent, except for the water dripping from the hose and the sizzle of the smoke on the
leaves. Penny looked a little sick, and Zack looked as if he was about to faint. That's
when I started screaming.
After that, I was rushed to the hospital. I never saw it, but heard that my leg was all
black; it was badly burnt. It had to be amputated. I was only eight, and I only had one
leg. Doctors said I was lucky, that if I'd been in the fire for even a few more seconds, I
might not have made it. They say exactly what that meant, but i figured it out. I could
have died.
All the visitors were "So sorry for the little girl who went though such a tragedy!". Zack
came a few times, but he didn't say much. I wouldn't look as him, and when he started
apologizing, I just started crying. That made him leave very quickly. No boy ever wants to
be around a crying girl. So finally he just stopped coming.
Penny and her mom came by once. Her mom was smiling, but her eyes were dead, and you could
tell Penny didn't want to be there. She just stared at the floor and mumbled the usual:
"I'm sorry, I hope you get better, blah blah blah." They didn't stay long. But right
before they left, Penny looked at me and hissed, "Maybe now you'll stay away from him."
I thought to myself, OK Penny, you win.
I was broken.

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