Ellie admired herself in the mirror, and turned her antiquated cd player up louder, drowning out all other noise.  Searching through her jeans pocket she found her make up, in this case eyeliner, some eye shadow and mascara.  No foundation but her skin was looking clean and clear, so no worries, no applicator brushes either…but nothing that couldn’t be applied by hand.  She rubbed on her eye shadow, gold; her mum had always said that gold suited her.  That it sparkled like she did.  Then the eyeliner, she erased bits where she’d messed up with the tip of her finger.  A small smile creased the edges of her mouth as she reached for the mascara.  Careful not to poke her eye, wouldn’t be the first time mind you, she applied probably a little more than necessary.  Her eyes twinkled in the mirror reflection, the smile still playing on her lips.  She ruffled her hair up with her hands and found her ‘base’.  Legs shoulder width apart, straightening up and taking a deep breath, she skipped forward a couple of tracks.  

Perfect, shutting her eyes she could feel the crowd hold its breath ready for her now, waiting to see what she could deliver.  Could she put her heart into the notes of her voice, could she communicate her feelings to them?  So there she stood in the toilets lip-syncing to her favourite track eyes shut, all worries forgotten.  The track finished but she kept her eyes shut savouring the feeling, slowly returning to reality, but rather quickly brought back at the sound of a toilet flush.  She hadn’t been alone, her cheeks flushed furiously, whomever had come in would have seen her in her most free unguarded form, she wrapped her arms around her trying to protect herself for the last few seconds.  Resigned she slipped her headphones of her ears and resting them around her neck she reached for the glass cleaner, pulling the yellow marigolds back over her carefully self-manicured nails. 

When the woman came out of the cubicle Ellie kept her eyes lowered, she didn’t want to make eye contact with the woman.  She felt almost violated.  It wasn’t long until she had to get the bus to school, so she finished up quickly and returned the equipment to the chemical cupboard before finding her boss to get the cash for her work.  She tucked her hair behind her ears, and straightened out her t-shirt with her hands, before knocking on the door.  Her mother’s voice saying, “it never hurts to look presentable”.

“Ah Ellie, here you go.  I assume you’ll be back after school.”  Ellie’s boss was a kind woman.  She cleaned for her seven days a week, before and after school during the week and then during the day at weekends.  Taking the crisp ten pounds out of the woman’s hand she smiled and replied cheerfully:

“Of course.” 

“Thanks Ellie, it’s nice to see that there are some responsible hard working people of your generation.  See you this evening.”  Ellie left her employer behind another day ahead.  School, then work, then she would visit her mum.

The bus was packed as usual, so she would have to stand.  It used to bother her in the early days, getting up at four in order to get to work for five was tiring and standing meant she couldn’t get any sleep on the way.  Now she was used to this routine and that meant she was at least used to being tired. 

School passed like every other school day, she ate alone, studied hard, got her report card sign as proof of her being at school and then left.  As soon as she finished her a-levels she would leave and get a full time job, but until then the grinding would have to continue if she didn’t want to go into care. 

She managed to finish work early in the evening and get grocery shopping done before heading to the care centre.  Ellie had days when she thought what was the point in her coming everyday when her mother didn’t even know who she was anymore.  That was one of the hardest things, knowing that her own mother didn’t recognise her at all anymore.  Early dementia.  Ellie would sit by her bed and talk to her, not the easiest thing to do, especially when you cover the same thing over and over again.  She would talk about her wedding day in detail, she could remember the colour of the tablecloth, every present she got, all the tiniest details.  But she didn’t remember Ellie, not one bit.

Another day finished Ellie let herself into her small two room flat and got her dinner ready.  Then did her homework and went to bed ready for the next day, another day of struggle.  Still she had her dreams, she wanted to be a singer and at least in her dreams she was.  As she shut her eyes she re-entered her imaginary world.  She was on the stage and the crowd was waiting to be entertained.