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Authors: V. C. Andrews

Tags: #Horror

Butterfly (8 page)

BOOK: Butterfly
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Knowing that Celine's eyes were always following me and that I was her hope made me try harder, but it also made me feel worse if I didn't please Madame Malisorf or Make progress as fast as I was expected to make it. The day after my uncle Daniel's explosive introduction, Celine had a doctor's appointment that ran late and kept her from attending my dance lesson after school. Without her sitting there in the corner, I felt a little more at ease, and even Dimitri seemed friendlier. Toward the end of the lesson, Madame Malisorf declared that tomorrow she would start me on pointe.

"I don't understand why she's doing that," Dimitri declared after she had left for her next lesson. He was old enough to drive and had his own car. "She's the most demanding dance instructor in the area and doesn't easily put a student on pointe. Certainly never this early." He thought a moment. "She's probably just satisfying your mother. Your feet aren't even properly developed."

"They are too," I said looking down at them to see if he was right.
He wiped his face with the towel and stared at me. "I've always liked to watch young girls develop," he said suddenly.
The way he was gazing at me made me very self- conscious. My leotards were as tight as his, and for the first time I was embarrassed by how much they revealed.
"Are you developing breasts or is that just some baby fat?" he asked, jabbing his finger toward me.
My breath caught in my throat and I jumped away from his reach.
"You know, I've heard there's an avant-garde group of dancers who dance naked. Wanna try it?" he asked. After what he'd just done, I had no idea if he was kidding me or not.
"Naked?" I couldn't imagine such a thing.
"It's supposed to give you more freedom of expression. I really might try it one of these days," he said. "Well?"
"Well what?"
"You didn't answer my question, breasts or baby fat?"
"That's very personal," I mumbled.
"You shouldn't be ashamed of your body," he continued.
"I'm not ashamed."
"Do I look like I'm ashamed of mine? Am I hiding anything from you? That's right, look at me," he said, turning so he faced me fully. He smiled. "I remember how you looked at me that first day."
I started to shake my head.
"Don't deny it. Honesty is the most important characteristic for a dancer. Your honesty will be evident when you move. Madame Malisorf always says that Breasts or baby fat?" he pursued. He stepped closer to me.
He smiled, his upper lip curling in to his now familiar sneer.
"I could make you look very bad here, you know. Madame will take you off pointe in seconds. I don't think your mother would appreciate that, do you?"
Tears clouded my vision.
"What do you want from me?" I cried.
"Let me decide for myself," he said and reached out to touch my chest. I was too frightened to stop him. "I'm still not sure. I'll tell you when I know," he added. I started to turn away from him, but he seized my leotard at the shoulder and began peeling it off before I could get away.
"Stop," I begged him.
"Ashamed?" He practically growled the word.
"No, but please, don't" I pleaded.
"If you don't let me see, I will ruin your first day on pointe," he threatened.
I swallowed down the lump in my throat and froze, my heart pounding as he continued to lower my leotard until he could reveal my chest. He stood there staring at me. Then, very slowly, his eyes narrow and strangely dark, he touched me. I jumped back as if his fingers were filled with electricity.
"Breasts," he concluded. "There, was that so difficult?" he asked and did a full pirouette, a leap, and a soft fall before heading out the studio door and leaving me behind, tears streaming down my cheeks, my heart pounding.
I pulled up my leotard and followed him out. I remained in the shadows of the hallway until I heard him leave the house.
"Is there anything wrong?" Mildred asked, seeing me cowering in a corner.
"No," I said. "I was just resting."
She tilted her head in confusion.
I hurried down the hall, away from her questioning eyes, up the stairs, and to my room, shutting the door behind me quickly. I was still embarrassed and frightened by the experience in the studio. My legs were actually trembling. What frightened me the most was the feeling of being trapped and helpless. He could have stripped me naked and I would have been afraid to stop him. Why did he do it? Why did he take such advantage of me? Why didn't I cry for help? At least Mildred could have come to help me.
I wiped away my tears and looked at myself in the mirror. No one had ever treated me as anything more than a little girl. No boy had ever thought of me sexually before as far as I knew. But now my breasts were budding. My time was coming. When Dimitri had touched me, I was terrified, but there was a strange new sensation as well. I wasn't sure if I was more afraid of him or what had happened inside me.
How lucky other girls were, girls who had mothers and sisters to talk to at a moment like this, I thought. If I mentioned to Celine what had happened, it might create havoc with my dance lessons. Madame Malisorf might even walk out on us and then what would I do?
How would I keep this a secret? What would it feel like to stand across from Dimitri tomorrow? I would be nervous enough as it was auditioning to begin on pointe. I couldn't help wondering if this was the first of many more experiences I would have to endure to please Celine.
That, as much as anything else, caused me to be afraid of what tomorrow would bring.

Eight

I tossed and turned for hours that night, and when I finally did fall asleep, I had so many
nightmares, I kept waking up in a cold sweat, and by morning I was actually shivering and the back of my neck ached. I fell asleep again just before I was supposed to get up and get ready for school. A soft knock at the door woke me. Sanford looked in.

"You should be getting up, Janet," he said with a smile.
I nodded and started to sit up when the ache traveled down my spine and I groaned. Sanford grew concerned and stepped into my room.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't feel so good," I complained. "My neck aches and I'm cold," I said through chattering teeth.
He put his hand on my forehead and looked even more worried.
"You feel like you have fever. I'll get a thermometer," he said and hurried out of the room. He was back in less than a minute and put the
thermometer under my tongue.
"I was afraid of this," he muttered. He paced as he waited. "You've been working too hard on your schoolwork and your dancing. You need more time to rest. You're growing, too, and all this is so new and frightening for you, I'm sure. No one listens to me, but I know I'm right about this:'
He looked at the thermometer and nodded.
"A hundred and one. That's a fever. You stay right there, young lady. I'm sending Mildred up with some aspirin for you. Does your throat hurt?"
I shook my head.
"No, just my neck and shoulders ache. And the backs of my legs," I added, but they were always aching so I didn't think anything special about it.
He stared
-
al me a moment.
"I've changed my mind. I won't give you aspirins yet. I'm taking you to the doctor," he decided. "Just throw something on, anything, I'll meet you downstairs," he added, and left the room.
I got up slowly, washed my face, and dressed in an old flannel shirt and a pair of loose-fitting jeans. As I passed Sanford and Celine's room, I could hear their muffled voices. Celine sounded very upset.
"What are you talking about?" I heard her say. "That's nonsense. People don't get sick from dancing too much."
"I didn't say that was the only cause. The child's exhausted."
"Nonsense. She's young. She has an unlimited well of energy," Celine insisted. I didn't have the strength to listen to more so I slowly made my way downstairs.
When Sanford joined me in the entryway, he offered to carry me to the car, but I wasn't in that much pain and I felt silly with him just holding my arm as if I were some old lady.
"I've already called Dr. Franklin. He's a good friend and he's coming into his office a little early just to see you first," Sanford explained.
"Is Celine angry at me?" I asked. She hadn't even come to see how I was.
"No, of course not. She's concerned, that's all," he said but quickly looked away.
The doctor examined me and concluded that I had the flu. He didn't prescribe anything more than aspirin and rest. Less than an hour later, I was back in my bed, taking aspirin and sipping some tea.
"I'll call from the factory," Sanford told Mildred. "Take her temperature in about two hours, okay?" "Yes sir," she said with a smile.
I fell back to sleep and did have a better rest. I could have slept longer, but I sensed someone was in my room and opened my eyes to see Celine in her wheelchair at my bedside, staring at me.
"You don't feel very warm to me," she said, taking her hand from my forehead.
"I do feel a little better," I agreed, though I really still felt sore and tired.
"Good. Don't worry about the schoolwork. I've already called and your work will be delivered to the house later this afternoon. Rest for the remainder of the day until your dance lesson," she added.
"My dance lesson? But maybe I should wait until tomorrow, Mother," I said weakly.
"No, no, you never cancel a lesson with Madame Malisorf. She cancels you. Do you have any idea how many other people are after her to work with their sons and daughters? This is a coup, a major accomplishment getting her to concentrate on you like this, and you're doing well. She told me she had decided to put you on pointe. I'm so proud of you, dear. It took me years to go on pointe. Do you know that?"
I shook my head.
"Well, it did, so you see how talented you are:' "But I'm afraid I won't do well if I don't feel well," I moaned.
"We must never let our bodies disappoint us, Janet," she insisted. "A dancer
must
be dedicated. No matter what, when it comes time to perform, you perfont'. I even danced on the day my grandmother died. I was very close to her. She favored me and had a lot to do with my parents' supporting my efforts to become a ballerina. I was sad but I had to dance and that was that. If I could dance on my grandmother's day of death, you can dance with a little ache and a little fever, Janet. Right? Right?" she pursued when I didn't reply quickly enough.
"Yes," I said softly. I couldn't help but wish that Sanford was home to save me.
"Good. Then it's settled. Rest until I call for you," she said and started to wheel herself out. "Actually, this is lucky. You were able to rest all day before starting your first lesson on pointe. See? Everything works out for the dedicated," she declared and left.
She danced on the day her grandmother died, I thought. I never had a grandmother, not even a mother, but if I had them, I would love them too much not to be too sad to do anything if they died. I could never be that dedicated. Was there something wrong with me?
Mildred came to take my temperature and told me it was under a hundred. I still had a dull ache at the back of my neck and I hadn't eaten much all day. I nibbled on some toast and jelly and a few spoonfuls of hot oatmeal. My stomach churned angrily with every morsel I swallowed and I knew if I tried to eat any more it would make me sick.
Sanford sent a message that he hoped I felt better and apologized for having to remain at the factory. Mildred told me he said he had some major problems or he would have been home earlier.
I fell asleep again and then I woke to the sound of Celine's stairway elevator chair. I waited, staring at my door. Moments later she came rolling into my room.
"Time to get up, dear," she sang as if it was first thing in the morning. "Take a hot shower to warm up your muscles and put on your leotards and your pointe shoes."
I groaned as I sat up, and when I stood, I felt a bit woozy, but I tried to hide it from her. I knew that I had no choice but to dance for her.
"Just take your shower quickly," Celine ordered.
My legs felt so tight. How could I ever dance? I had trouble walking. Nevertheless, I forced myself into the shower and stood under the water, letting it stream down my neck and back. It did make me feel a little better.
"Hurry downstairs," Celine said as she left my room. "I want you to do some warm-up exercises before Madame Malisorf arrives. Dimitri is already here. He'll coach you," she added and my heart started to pound as I thought about him and his creepy eyes inspecting my body.
It nearly exhausted me to put on my leotards and shoes, but I did it. When I descended the stairs, Mildred came out of the living room where she had been dusting and polishing furniture. She looked very surprised.
"You shouldn't be out of bed, Janet." She put her arm around me and began to turn me back toward the stairs. "Mr. Delorice left me orders and--"
"My mother wants me at my dance lesson," I said.
"She does? Oh." Her tone of voice made it clear which Delorice she was more afraid of crossing.
"Janet," Celine called sharply from upstairs.
"I'm coming," I said and hurried up to the studio.
Dimitri was at the barre stretching. As usual he was totally oblivious to everyone and everything around him. I approached, took my position, and began. Finally, he looked at me.
"Today is your big day," he said. "If you're nice to me, I'll make you look good."
He laughed and broke away to do what I had already learned were
frappes
on three-quarter pointe. He made it look as easy as walking and from the smug look on his face, I knew he was showing off. His arrogant smile was beginning to make me feel sicker than the flu.
Madame Malisorf arrived within minutes and looked pleased that I had already warmed up.
"Let me see your feet," she ordered and inspected my pointe shoes. "Excellent. Well done, Celine," she told my mother, who nodded and smiled. "Pull up," she ordered.
A ballet posture that aligns the body so you stand up straight with hips level and even, shoulders open but relaxed and centered over the hips, your pelvis straight, back straight, head up, weight centered evenly between your feet, was known as
pulled up.
Madame Malisorf told me to imagine myself suspended by a thread attached to the top of my head. She said I did it well and that I had excellent posture.
"The most important thing to remember for pointe work is proper coordination of your whole body, each part adapting correctly and without strain to any new position without losing your placement, Janet," Madame Malisorf began, her nasal voice sounding haughtier than usual.
Dimitri, at her side, demonstrated. He looked like a giant puppet to me.
"We have worked hard at developing your strength. I want your knees absolutely straight like Dimitri's. I am satisfied that your ankle joint is sufficiently flexible to form with the forefoot at a right- angle when on the demi-pointe. Do not curl or clutch your toes. Dimitri," she said and again he demonstrated.
As I began the exercises and moves she ordered, she continually yelled, "Line, posture, line. No, no, no, you're sagging. Why are you acting so weak? Again, again. Dimitri," she said with frustration. "Another demonstration. Look at him, watch him, study him," she commanded. Finally she lost her patience and seized me at the shoulders and turned me toward Dimitri. "Watch him!"
He stepped right in front of me, maybe half a foot away and began.
"See how important posture is?"
"Yes, Madame," I said.
"So? Why today are you forgetting it?"
I looked at 'Celine. She shook her head gently. I would be permitted no excuses. I couldn't even mention my being sick. I began again, trying harder. My body shook so much inside, it felt as if my bones were rattling, but again, I kept it all hidden.
Dimitri demonstrated the
rands de jambe en l'air,
the
petit
and
grand
battements, everything with an air of superiority. The music pounded in my ears. I felt more awkward than ever, and every time I gazed at Madame Malisorf, I saw her disapproval and disappointment.
"Stop, stop, stop," she cried. "Maybe it's too soon," she muttered, shaking her head.
"No," I moaned. My ankles felt like they would snap and my toes would probably be permanently cramped, but I could not stop. My new life depended on it.
Dimitri looked at me and then stepped up beside me.
"Let's try again, Madame," he said, putting his hands on my hips. "I'll help guide her through it."
Reluctantly, she clapped her hands and we began. Dimitri whispered in my ear, explaining how I should move and which way to lean and turn. I felt different, better and safer in his strong hands. He had great strength and was practically holding me up at times,
"Better," Madame Malisorf muttered. "Yes, that's it. Good. Keep the line. Good."
I felt like a limp dishrag when the lesson finally ended. My leotards were soaked through.
"An adequate first attempt," Madame Malisorf declared, stressing the word
adequate.
"She'll be much better tomorrow," Celine said, wheeling up to us.
"Perhaps not tomorrow but soon after," Madame Malisorf allowed.
Dimitri was sweating almost as much as me.
"Thank you for your extra effort, Dimitri," she told him. "You should take a warm shower immediately," she added. "I don't want my prize pupil going out in the chilly air and getting sick. Celine?"
"Of course. Go up and use my shower, Dimitri. Janet, show him my room, please."
Madame Malisorf turned to Celine. "In two weeks I'm presenting a recital with my newest students and Janet will be included."
"Oh, Janet, that's wonderful. Did you hear what she said? Thank you, Madame. Thank you," Celine said. "Your first recital. How wonderful, Janet."
"Recital?" I squeaked. "You mean with an audience and everything?"
"You will be ready," Madame Malisorf declared with a small smile, "for what you will be asked to do."
"Oh yes, she'll be ready. Whatever it is, she'll be ready," Celine assured her.
Dimitri took his bag and followed me out of the studio.
"You were awful in the beginning," he said as we reached the stairway.
"I was sick. I'm still sick. I had a fever this morning," I complained.
He laughed.
"I'm glad you didn't tell Madame that. She hates excuses," he explained. "Lead the way," he added, nodding at the steps. I started up. "You know your rear end has become quite tight and round just in the short time I've been working with you."
I was too embarrassed to say anything and continued upstairs where I showed him Celine and San- ford's bathroom. After I'd given him a clean towel I hurried away to my own room to shower and crawl back into bed. My ankles ached worse than any other part of my body and when I took off my pointe shoes, my feet were covered with red blotches.
I turned on my shower and took off my leotards, but just before I stepped into the stall, I heard Dimitri say, "Pull up."
I spun around, shocked. There he was with a towel around his waist, gazing at me.
"Pull up," he said again. "Posture, posture."
"Go away!" I cried, covering myself as best I could. He laughed.
"Come on. Pull up. Remember what I told you about that group that dances naked?" He reached for my hand. I wrapped my hands around myself tightly, but he was too strong and pulled my arm away from my chest. Then, in another motion, he undid his towel and stood naked before me. I couldn't take my eyes off him, despite my shock and terror.
He went on his toes, pulled me closer, turned me around, and lifted me in the air. Then he set me down and pressed his body against me.
"There," he said. "Didn't that feel good?"
He laughed and scooped up his towel, wrapping it around his waist as he walked out of my room.
I could barely breathe.
My head was spinning. Slowly, I sank to the floor and sat there, stunned. A moment later, I thought I was going to retch. I literally crawled over to the shower and stepped into the steamy stall.
Within minutes I got out, dried myself quickly, and crawled into bed as I had planned Just as I closed my eyes, I heard my door open and Dimitri looked in.
"Until tomorrow. Oh. And as I said, very nice and tight little rear end. You're going to be a dancer after all," he added with a laugh and was gone.
Not only couldn't I talk, I couldn't even think. I pressed my hands to my stomach and turned on my side. In moments I was asleep.
I'd only been asleep a few hours when I woke to the sound of bickering. I knew I had slept awhile because it was already dark outside. Sanford's and Celine's voices carried down the hallway. He couldn't believe she had forced me to take a lesson.

BOOK: Butterfly
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