I’m watching my T.V in my living room when I see my name cross the center of the screen. I am with my family and I am ready to see myself on ESPN.
I was in the car waiting to pull up to the valet. It was my first time in Myrtle Beach. I opened the door and felt a nice warm breeze roll in. I stepped out of the car and planted my feet firmly on the ground. I felt the dense air filled with salt on my hands and feet. My hair started to react to the humidity. The sun caught my eye; I followed it as it met with the ocean. Quickly my mind jumped from the beach to showstoppers. Which is a big dance competition. I was nervous. The opening number, I had never done before. I was 12. I stepped of the ledge and headed into the hotel lobby. It was all in white and silver. The furniture was spaced out evenly. It felt like I was in the future. As I got closer to the registration desk, I got slower. Kids of all ages were dancing around me. They were practicing for their routines. Some were good and some were bad. Suddenly I was at the desk. I stated my name “Brittany Belikov”. She handed me a number and instructed me to head into the room. When I walked in the room my stomach churned as if it was making butter. The room was huge and there were a good amount of people in it. I walked to an area of the room that was isolated. Nobody else was in the opening number from my studio so I felt alone.
The lady at the front of the room instructed everyone to come in quickly and take a seat. Her name was Candace. She spoke with a country accent, which for some reason made me less nervous. Maybe because it is how parent talk. “ The reason why ya’ll are here is because you either won first or second in your category. You will learn a dance and perform it to open the final show. Also, your performance will be on the competition video and … ESPN.”
The lady was telling everyone instructions but I was to busy thinking about how I would be on T.V. People would actually see me. People I don’t even know. It’s kind of weird. My train of thought got interrupted when Candace asked me to step forward. I looked around the room and slowly got up. I smiled to cover up the confusion going on in my head. She said “ Go to a section in the room and choreograph a solo that is two counts of eight long. I did so.
I got put with the my age group. I was a little disappointed because I thought I was better then my age but I guess I wasn’t. Right before she started choreographing our section my dance teacher tapped me on the sholder. I had to leave early because I had to do my jazz dance, “ Supermodel.” After I did my dance I was rushing to go back to the convention room. I ran through a small cement hallway. I was bumping into people I did not know. I was slipping everywhere because of my canvas ballet shoes but luckily my mom was there to support me. I ran up metal steps when I slipped. My arms automatically went to the front of my body to catch my fall. My upper body didn’t hit the ground. Then I felt the outside of my foot hit ground along with my knee. There was a jolt of pain in my left ankle.
My mom ran toward me “ Are you okay sweetie?”
“ Yeah mom I am fine”
I entered back into the convention room. There was still a little stinging in my ankle but I could handle the pain. We ran the dance countless times and we were finally able to leave. My ankle was sore now. I went up to the hotel room to ice it.
I got to the convention center early the next morning so I could warm up and stretch. Today was dress rehearsal. I had my costume and make up on. I was rolling my ankle different directions to warm it up a little more. All the dancers made their way to there starting positions. The dance starts with three groups. They each do a kick but one after the other. I was in the second group. The music started and I was ready dance. When it was my turn to kick I went up on the ball of my foot. I felt the same pain in my ankle except this time it didn’t go away. I delt with the pain. I was doing a couple more steps they all hurt equally but when I turned I just fell. I felt a knot build in my throat. It was big and solid. I couldn’t swallow. My jaw became tight and painful. It felt like someone just punched me in my stomach. But I held in the cry. Everyone rushed over to help me and asked what was wrong. But every time I talked there was a wrinkle in my voice. My parents took me to the local doctor. He asked me multiple times how bad my ankle hurt but I just said it only hurt a little but I was clearly lying. I knew that if I told him how bad it was hurting I wouldn’t be able to dance and that is exactly what happen.
Though I couldn’t dance I was still supported my fellow dancers. When they were practicing I was there. They then had the host come up on stage and practice his lines before the camera started rolling. I was just sitting on the side of the stage staring at my ankle. The Host, Jillian, came over and asked me what was wrong. I told hi
I was in the car waiting to pull up to the valet. It was my first time in Myrtle Beach. I opened the door and felt a nice warm breeze roll in. I stepped out of the car and planted my feet firmly on the ground. I felt the dense air filled with salt on my hands and feet. My hair started to react to the humidity. The sun caught my eye; I followed it as it met with the ocean. Quickly my mind jumped from the beach to showstoppers. Which is a big dance competition. I was nervous. The opening number, I had never done before. I was 12. I stepped of the ledge and headed into the hotel lobby. It was all in white and silver. The furniture was spaced out evenly. It felt like I was in the future. As I got closer to the registration desk, I got slower. Kids of all ages were dancing around me. They were practicing for their routines. Some were good and some were bad. Suddenly I was at the desk. I stated my name “Brittany Belikov”. She handed me a number and instructed me to head into the room. When I walked in the room my stomach churned as if it was making butter. The room was huge and there were a good amount of people in it. I walked to an area of the room that was isolated. Nobody else was in the opening number from my studio so I felt alone.
The lady at the front of the room instructed everyone to come in quickly and take a seat. Her name was Candace. She spoke with a country accent, which for some reason made me less nervous. Maybe because it is how parent talk. “ The reason why ya’ll are here is because you either won first or second in your category. You will learn a dance and perform it to open the final show. Also, your performance will be on the competition video and … ESPN.”
The lady was telling everyone instructions but I was to busy thinking about how I would be on T.V. People would actually see me. People I don’t even know. It’s kind of weird. My train of thought got interrupted when Candace asked me to step forward. I looked around the room and slowly got up. I smiled to cover up the confusion going on in my head. She said “ Go to a section in the room and choreograph a solo that is two counts of eight long. I did so.
I got put with the my age group. I was a little disappointed because I thought I was better then my age but I guess I wasn’t. Right before she started choreographing our section my dance teacher tapped me on the sholder. I had to leave early because I had to do my jazz dance, “ Supermodel.” After I did my dance I was rushing to go back to the convention room. I ran through a small cement hallway. I was bumping into people I did not know. I was slipping everywhere because of my canvas ballet shoes but luckily my mom was there to support me. I ran up metal steps when I slipped. My arms automatically went to the front of my body to catch my fall. My upper body didn’t hit the ground. Then I felt the outside of my foot hit ground along with my knee. There was a jolt of pain in my left ankle.
My mom ran toward me “ Are you okay sweetie?”
“ Yeah mom I am fine”
I entered back into the convention room. There was still a little stinging in my ankle but I could handle the pain. We ran the dance countless times and we were finally able to leave. My ankle was sore now. I went up to the hotel room to ice it.
I got to the convention center early the next morning so I could warm up and stretch. Today was dress rehearsal. I had my costume and make up on. I was rolling my ankle different directions to warm it up a little more. All the dancers made their way to there starting positions. The dance starts with three groups. They each do a kick but one after the other. I was in the second group. The music started and I was ready dance. When it was my turn to kick I went up on the ball of my foot. I felt the same pain in my ankle except this time it didn’t go away. I delt with the pain. I was doing a couple more steps they all hurt equally but when I turned I just fell. I felt a knot build in my throat. It was big and solid. I couldn’t swallow. My jaw became tight and painful. It felt like someone just punched me in my stomach. But I held in the cry. Everyone rushed over to help me and asked what was wrong. But every time I talked there was a wrinkle in my voice. My parents took me to the local doctor. He asked me multiple times how bad my ankle hurt but I just said it only hurt a little but I was clearly lying. I knew that if I told him how bad it was hurting I wouldn’t be able to dance and that is exactly what happen.
Though I couldn’t dance I was still supported my fellow dancers. When they were practicing I was there. They then had the host come up on stage and practice his lines before the camera started rolling. I was just sitting on the side of the stage staring at my ankle. The Host, Jillian, came over and asked me what was wrong. I told hi