Flash Fiction Friday, when? on Saturday of course

Every Monday Dottie over at Tink's Place posts a picture and then on Friday (Flash Fiction Friday) we post a story to go along with the picture. The story has to be about 350 words, give or take. 

(pic has been removed: ballerina)

Prima Ballerina

by Blodeuedd

It was not her gift. It was stolen from someone else. She was not a famous ballerina, well, she was, and it was just that it was not her that made it so. Her feet were magic, her body floated through the air. She was famous and she was loved.

Love and fame comes with a prize. The prize was a soul. When Sophie turned 11 she grew tired of the constant struggle, of never truly getting it right. So she made a deal. It was easy really. Her grandmother had been a witch so she just dug out the spellbooks and it worked. Much to her surprise. Maybe she should just have been a witch. But instead she asked to be famous and to be the best dancer in the world. That is where the prize came in and she did it willingly. 3 of the girls in her class went missing over a week. 3 girls who excelled at ballet. She knew what had happened and now 15 years later she was there. Fame, adoration…sleepless night and being haunted. That is not what she had signed up for. To see a face in every mirror, every puddle, everything! To hear their voices and to feel their cold fingers. To dream about them.

She shuddered where she sat, resting and wondering where the hell it went wrong. She was so tired. So very very tired.

“Soooophie.”

She closed her eyes in an attempt to keep the voices at bay but they would not stop. Always, always! She could almost not dance anymore. They whispered and her concentration was at on all time low. Her feet still had the magic but her head and soul was suffering. She had tried every spell possible; she had even called for the demon that she made the bargain with but nothing. She took another sip of her drink.

Alice, Ingrid and Zena. That is what they had been called. She turned around and saw Zena’s face in the mirror. Her long nails tried scratched the surface in an attempt to get out.

So very tired. She took the bottle in her head and started drinking. A few pills might dull their voices…

.................

I was not that inspired this time so it's a bit meh