She stood there, arms still, breath labored. She, Anna, Sarah, a girl with no name, was caged in. Bricks, Bricks covered every space of breath and space that the eye could see. The bricks shined, sparkled and rippled, seeming close to holographic, but when she went to touch it, the brick felt solid under her fingertips. Fingers twitching, her foot touched a brick, it didn’t move. So she bopped her hip on a brick and it disappeared. The wheels spun and turned in her head and she began to dance. Her fingers flew as her head bobbed to music, music she could only hear. Ballet was the thing she knew best, her life circled around it. Slowly she began spinning, building up momentum, and her foot flew up. She spun and spun and spun and spun. After a while, she collapsed onto the floor, her feet aching and swollen and her fingers limp. But she had to keep moving. The amount of space she had was bigger than before, maybe the size of a bathroom stall, but she was still stuck, still caged in. So, trembling, she raised herself up. She took a deep, deep, breath and began to dance again. Memories of every ballet class she had, and every move and step flooded her mind, her arms and legs moved on autopilot as her mind drifted away. Pirouettes, Pique turns, and Grand Jetes, tears began to fall down her face as the pain of her feet finally reached her head. Time flew by and when she couldn’t feel any part of her body anymore, the bricks disappeared. Whiteness now surrounded her on every side, it caged her. She had only begun to break free.