Dancing was my life. I felt invincible with Franco by my side. He was the only one who I'd let take me to practice. We would ride the bus--public transportation , ugh--to my dance studio after school, then Mom or Dad would pick us up afterward. Franco was my hero, and he was my protector. When he rode the bus, no one dared picked on us. Franco was only fourteen, but he looked like a grown man with his height and broad shoulders.

Everything was perfect until Kina told Mom she felt left out and wanted to see one of my ballet practices. Mom gave in and made Franco and me take Kina with us. I was upset at first; she was intruding on Franco's and my bonding time. But, as I watched Kina walking beside us, I couldn't help but smile. Her windbreaker jacket sashayed in the breeze, and she had a half skip, half walk going on. The wind ruffled my tutu. On the bus, I didn't say anything when she sat beside Franco instead of me. She had taken my spot, but what could I do?

We made it to my ballet practice with five minutes to spare. Kina had slowed us down. She had gotten distracted by two birds hopping in circles, as if they were playing a game on the sidewalk. I was stretching my legs when Kina whined about being thirsty. I stared at Franco to see what he would do. I didn't want him to leave. He never left my dance studio. He was supposed to pay attention to me, and only me. I was his perfect little dancer. I sighed when Franco stood to go to the pizzeria across the street.

How dare she take his focus away from me?! Once Franco walked out of the front door, Kina smiled and waved at me. I rolled my eyes and went back to stretching. I hated that Kina and Franco had a bond during my time. I wanted him all to myself.

A few minutes later I heard a screeching sound, like tires skidding along the road, followed by a loud thud and a car speeding off. I knew something was wrong immediately by the pain in my side.

Kina ran over to me. "What's wrong?"

I pushed her away.

Mrs. Denton, my ballet teacher, slammed the front door and blocked it with her arms. "No one leaves," she ordered.

Her husband had already run outside.

It was hard for me to breathe, as if blood clogged my throat.

Determined, I picked myself off the floor and made my way to the front door. I couldn't stop staring at Mrs. Denton. Sadness darkened her eyes. Tears came down my cheeks, but I couldn't stop moving. I had to get past her.

She whispered, "Loren, I'm so sorry." She wrapped her arms around me.

My head was buried in her chest, and my tears soaked her silky shirt. "No, no, no. I have to go outside. Move out of the way."

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

Kina ran to my side and grabbed a hold of my hand. I was too weak to push her away again. She asked Mrs. Denton, "Why won't you let my sister go outside? She really wants to. Can I go outside with her?"

"I'm sorry, honey, you can't, but you can follow me into my office."

"Your office? Why?" How could Kina not put two and two together? She was only ten, but that was no excuse. I gritted my teeth and cringed whenever she opened her mouth. She could have been my distraction from Mrs. Denton. If Mrs. Denton could focus all her attention on making Kina feel better, then I could sneak outside. Outside was where Franco was hurt.

It had to be my brother, my best friend, my protector. He had to be the reason my ballet teacher blocked the door. She wanted to get us into her office, so she could break the bad news to our parents. Adults were so transparent. Why couldn't Kina catch on?

Even though my feet wouldn't budge, Mrs. Denton dragged us to the far corner of the old building where her office was located. She sat us down in two plushy chairs that faced her desk. Kina held onto my hand, but I couldn't bring myself to look at her. Heck, I could hardly breathe.

I was letting Franco down.

Ambulance sirens blasted in the distance. The noise grew louder and louder as the ambulance came closer and closer. I squeezed my eyes shut and cried to myself.

Not my brother. Not my best friend.

Kina kept repeating, "What's wrong, Loren? What's wrong?"

I tried to block out Kina's questions. I even blocked out Mrs. Denton's phone conversation. I justed wanted to be there for Franco. But how? I took a deep breath and shook my hand out of Kina's hand. Then I sprinted to Mrs. Denton's office door, opened it, and ran to the front of the dance studio. The other dancers watched as they stood against the wall, stretching their legs on the bar. They didn't try to stop me. With all the adrenaline running through my veins, they wouldn't have been able to.

When I opened the front door, the bright sun blinded me. I ran straight ahead, not even paying attention to where I was going. If my brother got hit by a car, then I would follow in his footsteps. I would feel his pain, so he wouldn't have to be alone.

My eyes eventually adjusted to the bright sun, and I found a group of paramedics surrounding something in the road. Each step felt like I was stuck in quicksand. My feet were betraying me. I needed to move faster, because that something was Franco, my brother, my best friend.

Someone tackled me from behind. I fell to my knees on the sidewalk, but the other person never let go. They hovered my back with their hands wrapped around my body.

"Get off of me! My brother needs me! My brother needs me!"

"I'm sorry, Loren." I fought to get out of Mr. Denton's sweaty arms, but he was too strong.

I stretched out on my stomach and tried to belly crawl to the street. My hands reached out, and I plunged my fingernails into one of the cracks in the sidewalk. This temporarily knocked Mr. Denton down, but he got right back up, still pinning me. Then he swooped me up and carried me toward the dance studio. I kicked and screamed, but it didn't work. No one helped me. The paramedics continued looking over my brother. The crowd across the street remained in their spots, staring at us, as if we were their entertainment.

Mr. Denton kicked the door shut when we got back inside the air conditioned studio. Some dancers looked at the floor with tears in their eyes, and some shook their heads. As ballet dancers, we were trained to be reserved, in control of our emotions. I was failing on all counts.

Kina ran out of Mrs. Denton's office. "Loren!"

I tried to leap out of Mr. Denton's hold, but we fell to the floor. If they wouldn't let me be with Franco, then I would join him by default. With full force, I slammed my  head against the waxed floor. Again and again. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. But the pain was worth it.

The last thing I saw before my eyelids slid shut was Mr. Denton's panic stricken eyes. The last thing I heard was someone yelling, "Get help! Get help!" 

Even though numbness surrounded me, I felt a sharp prick in my arm.

Everything faded to black.

I would be joining my brother soon.