Clink…
Clink…
Clink…
A melodious tune started to play as soon as the town clock rang, signaling that it was midnight. The girl, already tossing and turning in her crumpled silk bed sheets, quickly got out of bed to find the source of the enchanting music. The music was like nothing she had ever heard, sounding as though it came from the fairytales the stories her nanny read to her as a child. She couldn’t help but feel a glimpse of nostalgia from when she was young and careless– roaming free throughout the halls of this house. Her parents chastising her for being improper, on the rare occasions when they were home. Now, she was an adult, and there were so many rules she was forced to follow. She had to stay silent and smile, always look neat and elegant, and speak only when spoken to. The song awakened something in her—restlessness and longing that she had kept hidden from the prying eyes of the world and all of its strict expectations
She opened the door to her old nursery and waltzed in, looking around at the wallpaper images taken right from the pages of her old fairytale books. And then she caught sight of it. The antique grand piano shone from the moon’s light that came through the window. It was playing the melody— the white and black keys all being pressed down by themselves.
Most people would have run straight to bed and hidden themselves under their thick comforters, telling themselves that this was a figment of their overactive imagination the next morning. Or they would have woken the whole house with their screaming and pointed the sight out with their trembling fingers to everyone who ran to them. Most people wouldn’t have walked closer to the piano or gently glided their fingers over the keys.
However, that is exactly what the girl did. She began humming the tune to herself under her breath, then she slowly removed her hands from the piano, took a step back, closed her eyes with a sigh, and started twirling around. She looked back to when she was a young child and was taught piano so that she could be a respectful member of society as an adult. To her teacher’s chagrin, instead of paying close attention to demonstrations of classical music and replicating them when it was her turn, she preferred to jump right out of the bench and waltz around with her toys, her dress swishing with her movements.
The girl opened her eyes after relieving this memory and looked down at her pale white nightgown. Except, the nightgown was now a turquoise dress with full sleeves and a v neckline. It was made of satin, silk, metallic and sheer fabrics, all stitched together artfully into one garment. The bodice was fitted to her and then spread out with a long train, making it appear as though she was an ethereal water nymph whenever she moved.
She was in a grand ballroom with spacious balconies, walls decorated with shaped gemstones, and crystal chandeliers above her providing light. Chattering people surrounded her, many dancing together on the dance floor while the large orchestra played the same music she had heard coming from the piano. Others filled up their flutes with champagne from the fountain, or stood around the dessert tables, eating pink, flaky pastries among other things. Everyone was dressed in their finest attire, their clothes looking like nothing the girl had ever seen back home, wearing high quality fabrics in various colors and draping. The girl moved her hand to pinch her shoulder, then stopped, the hand remaining mid air. If this was a dream, it wasn’t a dream she wanted to wake up from. She wanted to stay here forever in this room full of glamor, where she was free from all of the expectations placed upon her.
She quickly put her hand down and walked up to the champagne fountain, grabbing a flute and filling it with the bubbling drink. She brought it to her mouth and began to sip, catching the eye of a handsome young man standing in the corner. He looked like the hero in the fairy tales she had read as a child: the one who saved the princess from the evil dragon or the one who’d helped a kind girl escape her wicked family. He had a large crown on his head, and was somehow dressed the fanciest of the crowd of people, head to toe in cream and gold. So this was the prince here. He walked over to the girl, smiling coyly at her, then held his hand out. “A dance please?” he asked her in a smooth voice. Yes, she thought, yes. He took her hands and gracefully pulled her to the circle where everyone else was dancing.
Soon enough, the music gradually came to a stop, signaling the end of this dance. The next dance started, the orchestra playing a slow waltz. Then the slow waltz turned into a fast jig, and once that ended, the music switched again and continued to switch for the rest of the right.
The girl danced so much, she couldn’t even feel her feet anymore. She looked down at her feet and saw bleeding cuts and large blisters on them. It appeared to be her cue to stop dancing for the day. She started to move out of the dance circle, but a strong hand grasped her arm, preventing her from leaving. She turned around to face the prince.
“Where are you going?”
“I think I’m taking a break for the night.”
He gave her a kind smile and led her away to a chair, bringing over a pastry and fresh tomato soup flavored with basil, to help her with her light-headedness. He had to leave not soon after, being summoned to talk politics by the king, and gave her an apologetic glance over his shoulder as he was led away.
The girl was once again drawn to the dance circle after seeing the prince return to it, eager to dance with him yet again. She joined just in time for a slow romantic waltz, being blessed with him as the partner. He gave her a gentle grin and twirled her around, soothing her. That smile turned into a murderous glance as the music changed and a new partner appeared before the girl. Sensing her uncertainty, the glare morphed back into a serene smile, “I just want you all for myself,” he said softly.
At some point, the girl lost track of how many times she’d danced and switched partners, noticing her feet bleeding again. Except, this time, the blood from the cuts was beginning to flood her shoes. She started to leave to rest her feet again, but was stopped once again by the prince’s grip on her arm. This was different from the first time though, a much harder pull compared to his soft touch from before.
He stared at her, his once charming laugh turning into a threatening grimace. “You can’t leave.” His grip on her arm tightened, enough to leave bruises. The girl tried to push him off, but his grip only became firmer. She had to leave.
Finally, she thought back to the beginning of the night, when she’d been about to pinch herself. She could try this now and see what would happen. After all, she had nothing left to lose here. She moved her free hand to her captive arm, puckering her fingers up to get ready to pinch. The prince caught sight of this and hissed at her. She pinched her arm, gasping by the jolt of pain she felt, her eyes starting to tear up a bit.
The prince’s hiss turned into a cruel smirk. “You ate the food,” he said. “You’ll come back the next day and the day after that and you’ll keep coming till you dance yourself to death and stay trapped with the rest of us here.”
The next morning, the girl woke up on the plush carpet of the nursery, and thought back to last night. It was just a dream, she comforted herself, it was a small figment of your imagination. She looked down at her arm to see handprint shaped dark purple bruises that were on the verge of turning black.