Cecil stares back at herself in the mirror, studying her thick dark chestnut hair. It reaches her upper back and curls at the ends. Usually, she would pull it up into a bun when she was getting ready for ballet, but today she would be performing and had the lead role. Today her dress wasn’t simple but covered in decorative beads. It poofed out at the bottom like any classic tutu. The front of the white dress had a sweetheart cut and the back was tied like a corset. It hugged her 5'5 frame, outlining the curve of her back. It was no secret that Cecil had a beauty quite her own. Her brown eyes had a tinge of green that got lost in their darkness. Her lips were small and dainty, with the bottom lip being ever so slightly fuller than the top. Her face was oval with a delicate rounded off chin. Her nose was long but not straight. It curved slighty to her right side. Her best feature however was her olive skin. It almost appeared to glow. It was something she had inherited from her French mother. In fact every feature Cecil had inherited seemed to come from her mother.She looked so much like her mother that if you compared their photos at any age, you wouldn't be able to tell who was who. It was one of the reasons Cecil believed her father had sent her away to boarding school for most of her life. After her mother had died, it seemed that her father wanted to push away anything that reminded him of her.

With that thought Cecil quickly glanced at the clock on the vanity. The show was about to start. She walked out of her dressing room onto the stage and peaked out past the curtains. As she scanned the crowd her spirit started to sink. Her father had promised her he would come to see her. Afterall, she was turning eighteen soon and had barely seen him except on holidays. Even then the communication was dead. Her father often was too busy working to do much with Cecil. Instead she would spend the holidays at home with Nanna. Nanna was the only mother figure and probably the only true friend Cecil ever had. She could tell Nanna anything and Nanna would always know what to say in return. There was something eerie about the woman because she seemed wiser than anyone should be. Perhaps it was the fact that she was a Navajo, and adhered to the Navajo philosiphies. She was in touch with the nature of Earth as well as the nature of human beings. Even now Cecil could see those dark deep set eyes that seemed to be the windows to another world. They sparkled and the wrinkles around them added a charm that only a woman of her age could carry. Her cheekbones were strong and high. Her skin had a deep red tone to it and her long thick hair was silver. Her hands were thin and revealed liver spots. The best part of Nanna was her voice. She had a low husky voice. Her voice seemed so liquid and mysterious. It had the most calming effect on Cecil. She would give anything to hear Nanna's voice right now. She was so nervous. Her heart started to beat faster and her hands were clamming up. It was almost time to go on stage. But still no sign of her father.

By now everyone was coming on the stage positioning themselves. Cecil went to her spot in the center and got into position.

Is the story good too?