The devil is in disguise. He comes in the rarest forms at the most inopportune times. For Maria Gonzales, he was in her shoes.

Maria spent the majority of her time at the studio. It was her escape from the fake girls at school and from her father. Even though the mirror reflected back all of her imperfections, that just drove her to try harder. Her lean legs and long arms were muscle ridden, but that didn’t take away from the elegance that she radiated. Anyone else looking into that mirror would have noticed a beautiful athlete, but Maria only saw areas that needed improvement. The idea of perfection, so driven into her mind, never let her feel content with the progress she made. Once she perfected a double, she started practicing triples. The accomplishment gave her an unexplainable high, so she immediately sought after that feeling again.

The white snow starkly contrasted her brick home in the Bronx. She slipped off of her glove and fumbled for the keys in the bag hanging on her shoulder. Then she slowly unlocked the front door and stepped inside as quietly as possible. The warmth immediately comforted her body. She hung her coat on the rack and it was quickly swallowed by the hats, scarves, coats, and gloves of her four younger brothers.

Clink, clink.

Maria’s teeth clenched. She slowly turned around and saw the six empty bottles on the ground. Santiago Gonzales did not acknowledge that she was home. He gave all of his attention to the bottle in his sweaty hand and continued watching the blonde anchorwoman on the news. As Maria headed up the stairs to her room she heard him mumble something but didn’t pay much attention to it. She suppressed the memory of them waking up early every Saturday morning to make pancakes for her little brothers. Or the flashbacks of her dad pushing her on the swing set. As Maria crawled into bed, she glanced over at the calendar hanging on her wall. Her audition at New York City Ballet was tomorrow. She blocked out the happenings downstairs, and fell asleep.

Santiago sat on the couch, eyes blood shot. Completely numb. The pain was gone, the heartache was gone. The memories of his daughter as a little girl flooded through his mind. She was a free spirit who didn’t care what other people thought. Her clothes never matched and she always wore a sideways smile that made it seem like she was up to no good. He tried to understand where that girl went. With five children and a pile of bills, Santiago relied on drinking to relax. But when that got out of hand, his daughter did too. As he turned into something he wasn’t proud of, she did too. It was a downwards spiral that he couldn’t figure out how to get out of. His hand shook as he lifted the bottle to his mouth.

Maria woke up early the next morning and took a bus into the city, leaving behind a world of heartbreak while entering a world of dignity. When the bus pulled in front of the hall, Maria forgot about the issues at home or what was at stake. Her strength was renewed.

As it neared 10 o’clock, Maria followed the dancers into the studio and found a spot on the barre. Once the room was full, in walked an older man with grey hair and a cane. He closed the door, nodded his head, and the pianist began. Before beginning the first combination, the man informed the dancers that if you were tapped on the shoulder, you were not going to be considered for the company. The music flowed through her veins and she went to another place. It numbed her from the pain she couldn’t escape.

Mid thought, Maria could feel the director near her. She felt his eyes looking her up and down, silently criticizing everything that she had worked so hard for. She mentally checked her feet and arm placement, ensuring that everything was how it should be. Nothing, however, could have prepared her for what came next. When she felt a tap on her shoulder, Maria’s entire world came crashing down. Her mind froze, unable to maintain mental stability to continue the class. Her eyes filled with tears and her body stopped working. She ran out of the class, turning her back on the one thing that wasn’t supposed to fail her. Maria threw her shoes into her bag and got dressed as quickly as possible. Ironically, all she wanted was to be home.

It was three o’clock when she finally arrived back in her neighborhood. As she turned the familiar corner onto her street she saw her brick house and brothers playing outside. But the once normal scene completely changed when she opened the front door and heard her mom and dad yelling at each other. Maria’s presence forced her mother to break down and Santiago’s anger to reach a new height.
“What is going on?” Maria managed to say.
“Where have you been?” Santiago raged.
“I was in the city.”
“Why?” He demanded.
“For an audition.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because that is what I wanted.” Maria could feel her anger rising.
“It doesn’t matter what you want.”
“Santiago—” Maria’s mother tried to chime in.
“Stop. This is not an option. Whether you like it or not, I am the head of this household and what I say goes.”
“You are not the head of this household!” Maria shouted. She refused to admit the outcome of the audition to her father.
“Maria!” Her mother exclaimed.
“He’s not! He does nothing. I come home and you’re drunk! That’s all that you are to me. You are absent in my life. If you were a good father you would know and understand how much this means to me. How much I wanted this.” Tears were streaming down her face.
“And like you’re much better? You spend so much more time at the studio than I do drinking. Look at yourself, Maria! You are obsessed! Don’t point out my flaws without acknowledging your own.”
“That doesn’t matter! All I have ever seen for the past three years is you sitting on that dumb couch with the only thing that matters to you. Those beer bottles. Those replaced me a long time ago and don’t even act like that’s not true! I am not going to sit here and take any direction from you.”
“She doesn’t offer any respect,” Santiago said to his wife. “This is my house and these are my rules!” Exasperated, she replied, “You are losing her! We agreed a long time ago that we would support our kids no matter what.”
“That doesn’t include this! Nothing about this is healthy.”
“You are so blind!” Maria screamed. “You don’t understand anything! Let’s have this conversation when you aren’t drunk. When you have actually tried to be a part of my life.” She stormed upstairs, threw herself on her pillow, and started sobbing uncontrollably. She hated him. She hated what he did to their family. He was the reason she had to find an escape. This isn’t my fault.

Santiago sat on the couch, the only thing that he could feel were the tears burning his eyes. He reached for another bottle to numb the pain. He pictured his happy little girl but simultaneously took a drink. This isn’t my fault. She pushed me away too. For the first time in years, tears fell down his cheeks. That sensation woke up something inside of him. I can’t live like this any longer. I’m pushing away the one thing that I know.

Maria didn’t know what to do or who she was. Anxiety, fear, and depression overwhelmed her, and for once kept her away from the studio. She cut back her classes and spent more time at home. The one thing that she had all of her faith in completely let her down. For some strange reason, she started to see everything differently. Instead of resenting her dad, she started to question the reasoning behind his habits. She slowly started to gain sympathy and understanding towards not only him but everything around her. Her once obstinate exterior was starting to soften as she put effort into other things besides pirouettes. But every night she would get home and her brothers and mother would be asleep. Her dad, on the couch. As the days passed, Maria noticed the number of empty beer bottles on the ground was diminishing. Some nights were better than others, but nevertheless, there were never nine or ten on the ground. She tried not to get her hopes up, as this had happened once or twice before and reality always sunk back in. On this particular night, there were only two. As Maria headed up the stairs, she heard an unfamiliar voice ask her an unfamiliar question.
“How are you, Maria?”
“What?”
“How are you?”
“Oh, umm…” She was stunned. “I’m good, just tired.”
“Get some rest.”

She continued up the stairs, confused, her mind going a mile a minute. What does that mean?
The next evening, as usual, Maria unlocked the door and stepped inside. She hung her coat on the rack and started up the stairs. She glanced over to the couch, and by surprise, didn’t see her dad there. A small smile formed at the corners of her mouth. All the doors upstairs were closed, everyone was in bed.