My Daughter Returns from Dance Class in Tears Until I Burst in and Was Shocked by What I Saw — Story of the Day

10-year-old Dolly twirled on stage, each graceful ballet move a silent tribute to her late father. But when her partner mocked, 'You're only fit to scrub toilets with your mommy, not dance, loser!' terror filled Dolly's heart. Will she overcome her fear and fulfill her dream of becoming a ballerina?

The worn wooden door creaked open, and Dolly peeked inside the dim-lit auditorium. It was empty. Relief washed over the ten-year-old girl, warm and fleeting.

Dolly’s worn ballet shoes tapped a nervous rhythm against the polished floor as she whirled across the stage. The spotlight felt like a warm hug this evening. It illuminated the joy that bloomed in her chest with each graceful movement.

Just then, the silence shattered with a slam. The heavy auditorium doors shuddered open, and a wave of chattering girls flooded in, led by Cassie, an eighth grader and Dolly's most dreaded bully known for her entitled arrogance. Dolly froze and her heart started to race.

“Look who decided to grace us with her presence, girls!” Cassie mocked. The girls erupted in a chorus of snickers.

Heat prickled Dolly’s cheeks. “I-I was just p-pra-practicing,” she stammered.

Cassie sauntered towards the stage, each step punctuated by the clicking of her expensive ballet shoes. Her gaze swept Dolly dismissively. “Practicing what, exactly? How to trip over your own two feet?”

Dolly clenched her fists in fear, the fabric bunching under her white knuckles. "I c-can d-dance," she nervously insisted.

Cassie snorted. “Dance? You look like a lost kitten stumbling around in the dark.” She shoved past Dolly, nearly knocking her off balance. "Honestly, I don't know what Mr. Andrews is thinking, letting a charity case like you into the ballet class."

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Tears welled up in Dolly’s eyes, blurring the familiar lines of the stage. "I'm no-not a ch-charity case," she stammered. "My mom s-saves her money so I c-can be here."

Cassie scoffed. "Oh, please. Spare me the sob story! A thrift store dress and your non-stop stutter hardly qualify you to be a ballerina!” She cast a disdainful glance at Dolly’s dress, a simple black georgette with a faded pattern.

"Get out of my way, you stinky girl! You're only fit to scrub toilets with your mommy, not dance, loser!"

The sting of Cassie’s words was a physical blow. Dolly’s chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. Tears spilled over, tracing a warm path down her cheeks. She blinked back the tears, refusing to give Cassie the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

Dolly straightened her spine, her chin held high. "C-Cassie, stop. D-don't ta-talk about my M-Mommy like that," she stammered.

"S-Stop!" Dolly argued, gathering every ounce of her courage. "And Mr. Andrews wouldn't want you being so m-mean."

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Cassie's eyes narrowed. "Oh, spare me the teacher's pet routine, Dolly. You don't belong here. You are a disgrace on stage… dancing around in a dress that looks like it came out of a rag bin."

"What's going on here?" Dance instructor Mr. Andrews’ booming voice cut through the air like a foghorn, shattering the tense silence that had settled after Cassie’s last barb. “Alright, ladies! Let’s get started! Positions!”

The girls scurried to their spots, underscoring the awkwardness that had just transpired. A few girls shot sympathetic glances toward Dolly, but their gazes quickly flickered away. They didn't dare to earn Cassie's wrath.

Cassie, the center of attention as always, sashayed to the front, a triumphant smirk plastered on her face. “Mr. Andrews, what’s with Tiny Tim over here? Was she auditioning for a clown act with those… stupid moves?” she mocked Dolly, earning a ripple of nervous giggles from the other girls.

Mr. Andrews’ brow furrowed. “Cassie, that’s not nice. Everyone starts somewhere.” His gaze softened as he looked at Dolly, a silent apology in his eyes.

Cassie shrugged. “Sorry, Mr. A. Just trying to lighten the mood, you know!”

"Alright, ladies, on one... two... and three!" Mr. Andrews clapped as the music swelled, a gentle melody that filled the auditorium.

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Dolly momentarily forgot the sting of Cassie’s insults and a small smile bloomed on her face. She twirled in the background, her worn ballet shoes whispering against the polished floor.

“That’s the spirit, Dolly!” Mr. Andrews cheered, his voice filled with encouragement. “You’ve got this!”

Dolly’s smile widened, her confidence buoyed by his praise. Perhaps she could drown out Cassie’s negativity with the joy of dance. So she kept twirling to the music like a little butterfly.

But Cassie wasn’t done. Her gaze narrowed as she watched Mr. Andrews praise Dolly. With a practiced nonchalance, she extended a leg, a subtle trip that sent Dolly sprawling onto the hardwood floor with a heavy thud.

The music screeched to a halt and Mr. Andrews’ face contorted in frustration. “Dolly! What was that? We need to focus! Remember, balance is key! This performance is in two days, and we can’t have you falling all over the place!”

Dolly scrambled to her feet, tears stinging her eyes. “I-I’m s-sorry, Mr. Andrews. I-I didn’t…” she choked.

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Cassie arched an eyebrow, her piercing stare sending a fresh wave of terror through Dolly. She couldn’t tell him it was Cassie’s fault. The fear of facing her bully's wrath was far too great.

Dolly’s eyes darted around the room, pleading for someone, anyone, to back her up. But the other girls looked studiously disinterested.

“See, Mr. Andrews? This is what I was talking about. She’s just not cut out for this,” Cassie’s voice was a sickeningly sweet chirp. "She can't even dance properly. I'm afraid she might ruin our performance."

Dolly’s cheeks burned with shame. Tears welled up again, blurring her vision. The joy of dance, the one thing that had offered her a temporary escape, was now tainted by Cassie’s cruelty and Mr. Andrews’ disappointment.

As if sensing her despair, the music started again, a faster, more upbeat tempo. Dolly fumbled through the steps, her movements jerky and uneven. Anxiety gnawed at her. The steps she once knew so well seemed to have vanished from her memory.

“Dolly! Focus! You’re all over the place!” Mr. Andrews barked, his earlier encouragement replaced by annoyance. "What are you doing? Follow the others... you're missing the steps."

Sweat slicked Dolly's forehead. Shame and humiliation choked her, making it impossible to breathe, let alone dance.

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Mr. Andrews clapped his hands, bringing the music to a sudden halt. His face was grim. “Alright, everyone stop! Dolly, this isn’t working. At this rate, you’re going to sabotage the whole show.” He scanned the room, his gaze finally landing on Cassie. “Cassie, maybe you can show Dolly the steps?”

A triumphant glint lit up Cassie’s eyes. She pirouetted across the stage, a dazzling display of effortless grace. Mr. Andrews applauded enthusiastically as Cassie flaunted her dance moves.

“Bravo, Cassie! That’s exactly it! Dolly, pay attention! You need to move with that same precision, that same confidence.”

Dolly sank a little lower, the weight of Cassie’s smug grin pressing down on her like a boulder. Tears welled up again, and she felt her spirits being pulled down. "I-I will, M-Mr. Andrews..." she stammered.

Mr. Andrews sighed, the frustration evident in his shoulders slumping. "Look, Dolly," he said, his voice softer now. "The show is in two days. We only have one more rehearsal tomorrow. You need to buckle up and focus. Can you do that?"

Dolly stared at her worn ballet shoes, the silence stretching between them. The memory of Cassie's insults, the sting of her words, the weight of her own mistakes — it all threatened to overwhelm her.

But then, a sliver of confidence sparked in her chest. This was her passion, her dream. She wouldn't let Cassie steal it from her. Or anyone for that matter.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Dolly met Mr. Andrews' gaze. "Y-yes, Mr. Andrews," she said, her voice gaining strength with each word. "I can do it!"

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A flicker of surprise crossed Mr. Andrews' face, replaced by a hesitant smile. "Alright then, let's give it another shot. From the beginning." He turned to the rest of the class. "Everyone stay sharp! We've got just one day left."

***

The bell shrilled, signaling the end of practice. Relief washed over Dolly in waves. She wasn't sure how much more of Cassie's cruelty and Mr. Andrews' disappointment she could take. As the other girls filed out, chattering excitedly about their plans for the weekend, Dolly lingered, gathering her things.

Suddenly, a voice, sharp and laced with malice, stopped her dead in her tracks. "Well, well, well, look who's still here. The little loser who can't even dance her way out of a paper bag!"

Dolly spun around, her heart plummeting as Cassie materialized behind her, a cruel smile plastered on her face. The rest of the girls had vanished, leaving Dolly alone with her tormentor.

"Wha-What do y-you want, Ca-Cassie?" Dolly stuttered.

Cassie sauntered closer. "Want? Nothing more than to make sure you stay far, far away from the stage on annual day."

She tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with malicious amusement. "You, with your ugly duckling dress and those clumsy feet, would be an embarrassment to the whole troupe."

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Dolly clutched her worn ballet shoes tighter, dread churning within her. "Cassie, y-you're being m-mmm-mean. I-I can da-dance..." she stammered.

Cassie snorted. "Oh really? More like flail around like a lost puppy! You'd be better off scrubbing floors with your mommy, or maybe braiding your doll's hair. That's all you're good for anyway!"

Tears welled up in Dolly's eyes, blurring the image of Cassie's sneering face. "The show's day after tomorrow," she whispered. "I-I'm really excited to d-dance."

A harsh laugh ripped from Cassie's throat. "Excited? Oh, honey, that's adorable. Did you think Mr. Andrews was actually serious about you being in the show? You're deaf, aren't you? And on top of that, you stutter! He just feels sorry for you handicapped little girl. With those tiny hearing aids hiding in your ears, wouldn't you think you'd at least be able to hear Mr. Andrews say he was just kidding, right?"

Dolly's eyes welled up with tears. She fumbled with her hearing aid, the familiar buzzing sound suddenly overwhelming. "I-I can hear well," she whispered. "And Mr. Andrews w-wouldn't kid about something like this. He said I was do-doing well."

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Dolly flinched. Tears streamed down her cheeks now, hot and silent. "W-why are you so mean?" she stammered, her voice cracking.

Those words were a cruel blow, shattering the last vestiges of Dolly's hope. Humiliation and despair threatened to consume her. Without a word, she turned and fled, the echo of Cassie's laughter ringing in her ears. She ran blindly through the hallways, tears blurring her vision, until she reached the solitude of the locker room.

Collapsing onto a bench, Dolly buried her face in her hands, sobs wracking her small frame. Cassie's words echoed in her mind, each one a sharp jab at her heart. Was she really just a clumsy, talentless loser? Did she have no future in ballet?

***

The heavy oak doors of the school creaked shut behind Dolly, the sound swallowed by the bustling chaos of the dismissal crowd. Her worn canvas sneakers scuffed against the pavement as she trudged toward the familiar figure waiting by the curb.

"There's my superstar!" her Mom Tara's voice, bright and cheerful, cut through the noise. A wave of warmth washed over Dolly.

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Tara knelt before Dolly, her eyes crinkling at the corners with concern. "Hey, what's the long face, butterfly? Rough rehearsal?" Her hand gently cupped Dolly's cheek, her thumb brushing away a stray tear that Dolly hadn't even realized had escaped.

Dolly flinched, instinctively glancing towards Cassie leaning against the table, a bored expression on her face.

"N-no, everything's fine, Mo-Mommy..." she stammered, forcing a smile that felt brittle on her lips.

Tara's gaze held a knowing glint. "Come on, sweetie. You can't fool me. Was dance practice extra exhausting today?"

Dolly shook her head, the lie twisting uncomfortably in her gut. "N-not really. Just a little n-nervous about the performance, that's all."

Tara squeezed Dolly's hand reassuringly. "Hey, you've been working so hard. I know you'll be amazing. How about we celebrate with your favorite chocolate chip cookie ice cream on the way home?"

A hesitant smile tugged at the corners of Dolly's lips. Ice cream always had a way of making things feel a little better. "Y-yeah, that sounds good, Mommy!" she chirped.

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Tara ruffled Dolly's hair playfully. Then, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. The warmth of her touch instantly gave way to a frown. "Dolly, honey, you're burning up. You have a fever. There's no way you're going to school tomorrow. You need to rest."

Panic flared in Dolly's chest. "B-but Mommy, tomorrow's the last re-rehearsal! I c-can't miss it!"

Tara wrapped her arms around Dolly, pulling her into a hug. "Hey, hey, it's okay. Your health is more important. Besides, I'm so proud of you for working so hard. You know I'll be there cheering you on the loudest at the performance, no matter what. But you need to rest, honey."

Dolly burrowed into her mom's embrace, the familiar scent of lavender and laundry detergent a soothing balm to her troubled spirit. A cough wracked her small frame, and she winced. "I'll be f-fine, Mommy. Let's go h-home."

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A few feet away, Cassie watched them, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. The moment was shattered by the sharp thud of a purse on the counter.

"Cassie! Are you daydreaming again? Hurry up! The car's waiting outside. I don't have all day, girl!" Cassie's Mom Viktoria barked.

A yearning flickered in Cassie's eyes. "Mom, I missed you so much," she mumbled.

Viktoria's lips thinned. "Missed me? Don't be silly, Cassie. Now get in the car. I'm already late for dinner with your Aunt Sophia."

Cassie's shoulders slumped. A hollow feeling settled in her stomach. "Can we, uh, maybe stop for ice cream on the way home?" she ventured, a flicker of hope sparking in her voice.

"Ice cream?" Viktoria's laugh was a harsh bark. "Cassie, darling, I don't have time for this nonsense. Hurry up! We need to get home soon, and then you can sit down with your homework. Forget about your precious gadgets for another month if I have to hear one more word about ice cream."

Viktoria's words stung, sharper than Cassie would ever admit. Just then, her mother's gaze fell on Tara and Dolly.

She narrowed her brows. "Tara! Hold on a second!" she called out. "Just a friendly reminder about the costume. All the other parents have settled their accounts. The show's just a day away, you know. And you haven't paid a dime for your daughter's costume."

Tara's face flushed crimson. She clutched Dolly's hand tighter, her lips pursed in a thin line.

"I-I know, Mrs. Evans," Tara said. "I'm so sorry. It's just…" She trailed off. "I paid the rent this month, and… and all I have left is barely enough for groceries and Dolly's medicines..."

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Viktoria's perfectly arched brows furrowed, creating a deep crease between them. She tapped a long, ruby-red fingernail impatiently against her designer purse. "Groceries, Tara? We're talking about your daughter's dance performance here. This isn't some… some bake sale," she scoffed.

Tara bit her lip, her gaze darting between Viktoria's steely glare and Dolly, who clung to her leg, her big brown eyes wide with fear. "Can we, uh, maybe work something out? Perhaps a bit more time? This is a lot of money, Mrs Evans. Couldn't we…" Her voice trailed off again.

Viktoria's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Time, Tara? This show's in two days. Do you have any idea how much work goes into these costumes? The exclusive fabrics, the meticulous hand-sewing…" She sighed dramatically.

"Look," Tara interjected. "Maybe we could discuss this privately? The kids don't need to hear about this."

Shame burned in Tara's cheeks, a hot flush spreading across her face. She looked down at Dolly, and with a deep sigh, Tara reached into her worn canvas tote bag and pulled out a small wad of cash, the meager remains of her grocery money.

"Here," she mumbled, extending the cash towards Viktoria.

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Viktoria snatched the money, a smug grin flashing across her face. She unfolded the bills, her eyes narrowing as she counted. "This is only half, Tara. Do you think I run a charity here?"

Tara flinched in embarrassment. "I-I'll get you the rest in a week, Mrs. Evans, I promise. Just… please, let Dolly perform. She needs the dress," her voice cracked.

Viktoria shoved the money into her purse. "One week, Tara. That's all you get. One week to come up with the rest. Don't disappoint me."

Tara nodded numbly, tears blurring her vision. She turned away from Viktoria, wrapping a protective arm around Dolly's small shoulders.

Cassie, who had been watching the exchange with a sense of detached amusement, couldn't help herself. A burst of pride welled up inside her. "That was kind of cool, Mom!" she blurted out.

Viktoria's head snapped towards Cassie, her smile vanishing like a flame extinguished. "Cool?" she barked. "We don't have all day for your stupid comments, young lady. Now get in the car. We need to get home."

Cassie's pride deflated faster than a punctured balloon. She mumbled an apology and slunk towards the car.

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As they pulled out of the school parking lot, Cassie stole a glance out the back window. She watched as Tara and Dolly walked away, their figures growing smaller with each passing moment.

A pang of envy, sharp and unexpected, shot through her. Tara, despite her financial struggles, held her daughter close, a bond evident in their shared embrace.

Cassie looked down at her own hands, clenched tightly in her lap. A wave of loneliness washed over her, a grim contrast to the carefree laughter echoing from a group of children playing on the sidewalk.

They walked hand-in-hand with their parents, faces lit up with joy. But here she was, nestled in the backseat of her Mom's expensive car like a stranger.

A longing, unfamiliar, and unwelcome feeling stirred within Cassie. Was this what it felt like to have a Mom who cared? A Mom who wrapped you in a hug when you were scared, not someone who barked orders from the driver's seat of a Mercedes?

Frustrated, Cassie decided to vent her frustrations on someone and the only person she could think of was—Dolly—who seemed like an easy victim.

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The next day...

The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the dusty auditorium windows, illuminating a lone figure huddled by the wall. It was Dolly.

She peeked around the corner, her gaze searching for Mr. Andrews. Dolly didn't want to make the mistake of entering the auditorium first and getting cornered by Cassie again.

Relief washed over her as she spotted Mr. Andrews marching towards the stage door. Taking a deep breath, she darted out of her hiding spot and scurried onto the stage just as Mr. Andrews entered.

The other girls, already practicing their routine, turned their heads in surprise. Cassie, a smirk twisting her lips, raised an eyebrow at Dolly. "Well, well, well," she drawled. "The little lost lamb finally found her way back to the fold."

Dolly flinched, the color draining from her face. The final rehearsal was over. Dolly tried to slip past Cassie in the backstage, but a strong hand clamped down on her arm.

"Don't even think about it," Cassie growled, her eyes narrowed in a menacing glare. "I told you not to show your ugly face today. Why did you come?"

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Fear, cold and sharp, clawed at Dolly's throat. The memory of her father's words, a voice that resonated with love and unwavering support, echoed in her ears:

Taking a shaky breath, Dolly found her voice. "I-I want to dance," she stammered. "And m-my Dad says I shouldn't let anyone stop me."

Cassie recoiled, her face contorting in rage and disbelief. How dare this scrawny, stuttering girl defy her?

"Your Dad?" Cassie scoffed. "Who died last year? What did he know anyway? Probably spent more time working than actually seeing you dance." Her words were laced with a cruel venom.

Dolly's eyes welled up with tears. "D-don't talk about my D-Dad like that," she choked out. "M-My Dad used to say I'm a s-star. And h-he's my h-hero."

Cassie burst out laughing, a harsh, mocking sound that echoed through the auditorium. "A star? You? In your dreams, pipsqueak. Face it, you're just a charity case, taking up space that could be used by someone who actually deserves it."

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Tears streamed down Dolly's face, her vision blurring. But despite the tremor in her voice, she stood her ground. "I w-worked hard to learn the steps," she insisted. "And Mr. Andrews s-said I did g-good today."

Cassie's eyes narrowed. No one ever talked back to her. Fury boiled within her, threatening to erupt. She grabbed Dolly's shoulder, her nails digging into the soft fleece jacket. "You think you can just waltz in here and steal the show? You've got nothing on me!" she shrieked, shoving Dolly to the floor.

Dolly landed with a gasp, the pain radiating through her shoulder. Just then, a panicked voice shattered the tense silence.

The harsh scream split through the air, instantly grabbing both Cassie and Dolly's attention. In the doorway stood Tara, her face etched with worry, her eyes blazing with fury as she raced to her daughter.

In a heartbeat, Tara was by Dolly's side. She knelt down, her hands flying to her daughter's shoulders, checking for injuries. "Dolly! Honey, what happened? Are you okay?"

Dolly scrambled to her feet as she held back her tears. "I-I'm fine, Mommy," she stammered. She cast a frightened glance towards Cassie, who stood frozen in place.

Tara's gaze snapped towards Cassie, her eyes blazing with a fury that could melt steel. "How dare you push my daughter!" she roared.

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The force of Tara's anger sent a jolt through Cassie. Her bravado, carefully constructed over years of social dominance, crumbled in an instant. "I-I…" she mumbled, "It was an accident."

But Tara wasn't buying it. "Accident?" she scoffed. "This doesn't look like an accident to me!" She straightened up. "Believe me, if I report this to the principal, you'll be singing a very different tune, young lady."

Just as Tara reached for her phone, a small hand tugged at her sleeve. Dolly, tears now glistening like diamonds on her cheeks, pleaded, "N-No, Mommy, please!" She wiped her tears on the back of her hand. "It's okay. We were just… we were rehearsing a scene for the play tomorrow."

Relief washed over Tara's face, momentarily erasing the anger etched there. An awkward silence descended, punctuated only by Dolly's soft sniffles. Tara cleared her throat, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Oh, honey, you scared me half to death. I'm so sorry I'm late, sweetie," she murmured, pulling Dolly into a hug. "Work got hectic again."

That's when Tara's fingers brushed against Dolly's jacket. Concerned, she immediately lifted it. "Oh my God... you're still wearing the band?" Tara gasped. "The doctor warned you not to wear it during dance practice, didn't he?"

Cassie watched curiously, her gaze fixed on the band peeking out from under the edge of Dolly's shirt.

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"M-Mommy, I'm fine. D-don't worry..." Dolly replied.

Tara's gaze softened. She reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind Dolly's ear. "Are you sure, sweetie? We can skip practice tomorrow if you're not feeling well."

Dolly shook her head vehemently. "N-no! I can't miss it. Besides, I feel fine now."

"Alright," Tara sighed. "But promise me you'll be careful, okay? No more heroics."

Dolly managed a weak smile in return. "I p-promise, Mommy!" Relief washed over her, warm and welcome. She couldn't wait to get home and try on the dance costume that had been delivered in class that afternoon.

"Well," Tara said, clapping her hands together as if to dispel the tension. "How about we head home and get you ready for your big performance tomorrow? We still need to figure out all those accessories."

Dolly's eyes lit up. "A-Accessories?" she chirped.

Tara winked. "That's a surprise. But trust me, they'll be fabulous."

Dolly giggled, the sound tinkling like wind chimes. As they walked out of the auditorium, Tara cast a brief glance at Cassie, who lingered by the stage. She offered a polite smile and approached her.

"We're hailing a cab home, sweetie. Shall I drop you home?" Tara asked.

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"No... No, thanks. That's really sweet of you. But my Mom's on her way to pick me up," Cassie replied.

"Alright then! Good luck with the performance tomorrow!" Tara said.

"Thanks!" Cassie mumbled a response, her gaze still fixed on the spot where Dolly's shirt had revealed the glimpse of the support band. A strange knot of emotions tightened in her stomach, a feeling she couldn't quite place.

As Tara and Dolly walked away, Cassie knew one thing for sure: Dolly was hiding something.

***

On the big day...

The air in the cramped dressing room crackled with nervous energy. Dazzling costumes, a riot of beige, silver, and shimmering gold, hung on every available hook. Groups of girls, their faces painted with stage makeup and hair piled high in elaborate buns, flitted around, chattering excitedly.

Dolly, however, sat alone on a rickety stool, fidgeting with the glittery wings in her lap. Cassie, dressed in an angel costume, finished adjusting her tresses and turned towards Dolly. For a moment, she hesitated, then walked over and stood before her.

"Hey," she mumbled.

Dolly flinched, surprised by Cassie's sudden appearance. She looked up, her eyes wide and guarded. "Y-you? What d-do you want?" she stammered.

Dolly blinked, taken aback. "S-sorry?"

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Cassie nodded. "Yes! I've been a terrible person to you. Always putting you down, making fun of you…" She trailed off, the weight of her past actions pressing down on her.

A flicker of pain crossed Dolly's face. But then, she surprised even herself by offering a small, understanding smile. "It's o-okay," she murmured. "We were b-both just s-silly, I guess!"

Cassie let out a humorless laugh. "Maybe! But that doesn't excuse it. Honestly, I think I… I was jealous."

Dolly's brow furrowed in confusion. "J-Jealous? Of me?"

Cassie sank down onto the stool next to Dolly, her shoulders slumped. "Yeah. Of you and your Mom. The way she looks at you… the way she cheers you on, no matter what. I wish I had that kind of relationship with my Mom, you know."

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Dolly's heart ached for Cassie. She tentatively reached out and placed a hand on her arm.

"Y-your Mom loves you, Cassie," she stammered. "Even if sh-she doesn't show it the s-same way."

Cassie shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Maybe. But it's not the same. It never will be."

She looked at Dolly, her gaze intense. "So, about yesterday…" Her voice trailed off. "What's wrong? Why were you wearing that… support band?"

Dolly's hand instinctively flew to her chest, a wave of panic washing over her. She didn't want to talk about it, not to anyone, least of all Cassie.

"N-nothing," she mumbled, her gaze dropping to the floor. "Let's h-hurry up. Our d-dance is next."

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But Cassie wouldn't be deterred. "Dolly," she said. "Look at me. Tell me. What's wrong."

Dolly hesitantly lifted her gaze to meet Cassie's. The concern in Cassie's eyes surprised her. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

"I'm t-tired," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I'm t-tired of being treated differently, of being pitied. I just want to d-dance. I just w-want to be like everyone else."

Cassie reached out and gently squeezed Dolly's hand. "Hey," she murmured. "It's okay to not be okay. You don't have to pretend. Now, tell me everything. What happened? What's wrong?"

Dolly clutched the glittery wings in her lap. "I-I… I usually don't tell people," she mumbled. "P-promise you won't tell anyone?"

Cassie nodded solemnly. "My lips are sealed."

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Dolly took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she began to speak. "It was a year ago. Dad and I were d-driving home from… from the m-movies," she stammered, the memory still raw and painful. "There was a… a truck…" Her voice choked up, and tears welled up in her eyes.

Cassie didn't say a word, but the gentle pressure of her hand on Dolly's arm offered silent support.

Cassie pulled Dolly into a hug, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.

"It was h-horrible," Dolly whispered into Cassie's shoulder. "The f-first time I came home… everything felt so d-different. And then… Dad's f-funeral." Her voice broke, and her body wracked with silent sobs.

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"D-Dad always wanted me to be a d-dancer," she continued. "A p-performer, just like him. That's why I n-never missed a rehearsal, even when it h-hurt. This performance… it's for him."

Cassie nodded, a lump forming in her throat. Dolly's story had ripped away the veil of arrogance she'd so carefully constructed, revealing a vulnerability she hadn't known existed.

"He would be so proud of you, Dolly," Cassie said. "You're an amazing dancer!"

A watery smile touched Dolly's lips. Then, her face turned serious. "There's one... one m-more thing," she said hesitantly.

Cassie looked at her, bracing herself for whatever Dolly had to say.

"Maybe your M-Mom is... maybe she's a little s-strict sometimes," Dolly stammered. "But she loves you, Cassie. You're a-amazing... and I don't think you could be like this without your Mom's love and s-support, no matter how tough sh-she might s-seem."

Cassie's gaze dropped to the floor, Dolly's words echoing in her head. A seed of doubt, long buried, began to sprout. Maybe Dolly was right.

***

A hush fell over the auditorium as the spotlight swiveled onto the stage.

As the music swelled, the girls launched into their performance. Their movements were a graceful ballet of color and light, their bodies twisting and twirling in perfect unison.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / DramatizeMe

Cassie, fueled by Dolly's words and a newfound appreciation for her mother's love, danced with an energy that surprised even herself. Her leaps were higher, her turns sharper, her movements infused with a newfound passion.

From her seat in the front row, Tara watched with a heart overflowing with pride. Dolly, bathed in the soft glow of the spotlight, seemed to float across the stage.

"My baby... my butterfly... you look like a little angel!" Tara whispered to herself, a tear tracing a path down her cheek.

Across the stage, Cassie's gaze darted through the audience, searching for her mother. Then, a wave of relief washed over her as she spotted Viktoria sitting near the back. Viktoria was leaning forward, a wide smile plastered on her face, her hands clapping enthusiastically to the beat of the music.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / DramatizeMe

The energy on stage was contagious. The audience, captivated by the performance, erupted in cheers and applause as the final note faded away. Tara and Viktoria stood up, their voices a chorus of praise amidst the general commotion.

Dolly and Cassie, chests heaving and faces flushed, met each other's gaze across the stage. A wide grin split Dolly's face, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Cassie returned the smile, a newfound sense of camaraderie blooming in her chest.

Taking a deep breath, Dolly closed her eyes for a moment, a silent tear slipping down her cheek. She envisioned her late father, his face beaming with pride, clapping his hands amidst the imaginary crowd.

Having a missing arm or leg, or one's inability to speak well or not having enough bank balance doesn't necessarily make them an outcast. Never judge a person by their status or disability because, like a diamond with a flaw, it's the imperfections that often make us the most beautiful.

For illustration purposes only | Source: YouTube / DramatizeMe

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Molly was hurt when she fell behind without a prom date only because she used a wheelchair. Her disappointment was swept away by joy when her Dad Danny took her to the prom. Danny's devotion and love for his daughter were met with a heartwarming surprise the next day. Here's the full story.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone's life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.