Act 5

As the days went by, a funny thing occurred to me. I realized that I had never had friends my own age. Well, technically, no kid had my age, over 100, but you get the idea, right?

The hospital was always busy, many people died, and they wore the red bracelet. I was always afraid to be the next one, to go to sleep and not wake up again, and especially not to see my friends.

I tried to forget what was happening around me and concentrate on being happy and having fun. That's why we played video games and explored the large areas the place had. The nurse brought different board games, and I didn't know there were so many fun things to do in this place. Before, I spent most of my time watching TV, which was my main connection to the outside world.

For a short time, I learned so much about how everything had changed. I felt alive again, as if my time had begun to move again. I never wanted to go back in the machine. In the days that followed, the attending doctor told me that the day was approaching when I would have to take my next medication and go back into the machine.

I told the others that I didn't want to do that, and it seemed that we all had the same idea.

On a hot day, near the time I was to go back into the machine, we gathered around a large fountain on the side of the hospital. The place had become beautiful with a large garden and several benches to sit and enjoy in an open area.

"You said you like to dance? Have you ever danced before?" Marco asked.

"Yes, I learned from Rose."

"The nurse?" Beatrice asked.

"Yes, that's her."

"Then show us," Rafael said excitedly.

"Are you sure? It's been so long," I said hesitantly.

Before I could refuse, Marco said, "Mauricio, please bring the tablet; let's play some music first. Dancing without music isn't much fun."

"What do you dance?" Mauricio asked as he searched for a song.

"I learned ballet."

"Then choose this one," Rafael said.

"Look for 'Giselle.'"

They signaled that they were ready, and I prepared myself as well, just like the first time I started training for this piece. The music began to play, and of course I was filled with emotion; everything came rushing back as I executed the first steps.

Dancing is a way to express yourself through body movements, to convey all the happiness I had experienced in those months, but also to understand the importance of sadness. I expressed this mixture of feelings, my passion for dancing, the happiness of having friends and people who support me, the sadness that the disease has brought me, the longing for those who have left me and, above all, the gratitude for all that they have done for me.

I jumped to the ground with all the lightness and fragility of my touch, as if floating in the courtyard in front of the fountain.

I looked curiously at the faces of my friends, who were enchanted by both the rhythm of the music and the performance, which made me feel satisfied that I was able to convey what every actress dreams of.

I admit that the dance was mesmerizing; no one stopped paying attention, just as I didn't stop dancing. Frankly, I didn't want it to end.

When I did the last step and ended the performance with the music, we were all so engrossed that we stood motionless for a few minutes, as if we didn't realize it was over, while the sound of the fountain water dominated, making it seem as if time had stopped.

When we came to ourselves, everyone applauded, and I stood up to thank the audience as if I were on a real stage.

"Oh, you're so beautiful," praised Ana.

"Congratulations," Beatrice said.

"You were amazing. You really have a bright future," said Mauricio.

"Incredible," Rafael praised.

"I always knew you were special," said Marco.

They all spoke together. I was very pleased with the compliments, of course, but I was too tired to respond with anything more than a simple thank you.

Time passed so quickly that it was getting late. The whole courtyard was bathed in the orange light of the sunset.

Marco called me to talk, and he seemed serious. Mauricio was with him, also looking serious and especially nervous. The other three were talking about other things by the fountain and seemed not to care about the conversation we were having nearby.