Dreams of a dancer: one day in the Royal Ballet Academy

My heart was thumping and my body felt heavy. As I stepped into the crowded and noisy London Underground, I clutched my trembling heart. I felt that I was opening a new chapter in my life. I felt petite, minimised, directing myself towards the ancient stairs of Covent Garden Station.

Luckily, my mum and dad had decided to reward me with a beautiful brand new ballet leotard.

It was 14:21 and the workshop started at 14:30. How was I supposed to get there on time? I can always count on my incredible mother; she makes the impossible possible.

Paramm! There I was in front of the Royal Ballet Academy. Sensibly, I composed myself, raised my head and walked through the huge, glass doors. I was convinced that nothing horrible would happen to me on this special day. Incredibly calm, I joined the line to be registered. My heart skipped a beat. However, I was ready to show them what I had.

My teacher for the day was visible to everybody. Slowly, she walked towards me with a welcoming smile on her face. My full determination was to be the best I could be.

I smiled back. Even though I knew that in a split second things could go horribly and terribly wrong. “Be sensible! Be sensible! I kept hammering in my head.

Well, here I was in the Royal Ballet; little Shabelle from Tottenham in an enormous ballet studio, with 23 other children, in my brand, new pink leotard.

As the lesson started, my fierce trembles disappeared. Having my mum visibly close to me encouraged me to remember that this was my moment and I should enjoy it to the maximum…

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