Cold, long fingers made their way through her hair. With each delicate stroke, the strands grew longer, her tears fell harder. She tried to turn, to find her mysterious companion but every time she tried, the hands clasped tight, pulling the hair from her scalp. They clawed at her, harder and harder; tearing at the thinning threads of hair, relentless in their quest. Eventually she sat in a nest of her own hair, the tears from her eyes turning red and tainting the puddle at her feet. The knife appeared and, without a moment of hesitation, she plunged it into herself.
I awoke with a start. My shirt stuck to me, the sweat soaking right down into my mattress. It was the eighth time in as many days that I'd had this peculiar dream. My breaths were jagged and sharp as they clutched at my throat. I tore my covers back clumsily, clasping blindly for the nightstand in the darkness of the cold November night. My fingernail struck something with a small clink and I was grateful that I'd found the glass. I swallowed the water down desperately, not caring that some was spilling down me. Why was this happening? What was this dream trying to tell me? I shook it off as I had done for days and put it down to stress. After all, tomorrow was the opening night of the new ballet show and I needed to do well. Dancing the lead in Giselle could really put me on the map. I dreamed of the day when I was performing for a living rather than just giving cheap lessons to school kids in a run-down community centre. I let my eyes adjust before finding the green numbers of my clock display. 3.33am. The same time as the past nights. I deactivated my 6.00am alarm and got dressed. Sneaking downstairs, careful to not wake anyone up, I found a note in the kitchen.
Good luck with rehearsal today! Don't work too hard and make sure you eat! - Mum
I smiled at the scrawled note. Shoving some fruit and a couple of cereal bars into my bag, I left the house and got into my beat up car with a sigh.
My headlights hit the brick building of the community centre and I slid silently into a parking space. The community centre was a dilapidated little building that had been constantly in repairs due to vandalism. There were normally shady characters hanging around and it wasn't the most pleasant of places to be. But it had a mirrored room, I had keys and it would have to do since the dance studio was closed until the dress rehearsal later on in the day. At 6.00 am I untied the satin straps of my pointe shoes and slid my battered trainers back on. I pulled my coat tight around me and walked outside, hoping that I could catch some air whilst nobody was around. The darkness was still hanging low in the sky and I had to clamp down hard on my jaw to stop my teeth chattering. This time tomorrow I'd be having breakfast and dealing with the butterflies in my stomach, the nervous anticipation of my performance. I turned to go back in when I felt it. That slight judder in the air when something's not quite right. Then I panicked. Because in that moment, I felt something touching me. Stroking my hair. My heart skipped a beat. I felt my blood drain down into my feet. My mouth opened to scream but all that came out were thin little gasps for air. I finally found my voice and began to scream as loud as I could, the sound high and bloodcurdling. But it was too late. Seconds later, my world went black.
The tip of my shoes brushed the ground, soft as a whisper. I was dancing. I was Giselle. I was dancing. My heart was breaking. I was dancing. And I was dying.
''Albrecht?'' I shouted, searching for him, for anyone. ''Hilarion?''
I looked all around, the air growing foggier. I couldn't find anyone and the air was dropping in temperature, my dress not enough to protect me from the cold. Slowly a shape appeared. A voice, carried on a breeze.
''Do you trust me?'' it asked. ''Callie, I need you to trust me.''
''Who are you?'' I whispered into the mist.
''Trust me.'' it replied. It was a man's voice. Deep and masculine.
''I need you to answer me a question!''
The man's voice took on a playful tone. ''I cannot tell you who I am.''
''No.'' I was determined to know who he was. I was Giselle and I was searching for my love. ''Which one are you? Albrecht? Or Hilarion?''
''That all depends on the choices you make.''
''No! Wait…'' I called after the fading shadow. ''Wait! Don't leave me here alone!''
But it was too late. My voice was fading, my feet were sinking and the light was filling my vision.
''She's waking up!'' The voice of a man filtered through my head, his accent commonplace; his words mispronounced.
''Right, boys, now that we got us one of them, let's at least enjoy this yeah?'' Another man's voice. The way his grammar was wrong annoyed me. It seems petty but that was the one thing I noticed as my eyes adjusted. My heavy eyelids began to get lighter, flittering to reveal my eyes darting all around. I tried to scan the room but my head was fixed in place. A bright halogen light was on the ceiling above me. It was like something you'd see in a hospital. Sharp, clinical and far too bright. I opened and closed my mouth, noticing the dryness of my tongue. My throat felt like sandpaper as I tried to speak.
''Whe…Whe… Where.'' I managed to utter out. I licked my lips with my dry tongue and tried to finish my sentence. That one word had taken most of my energy. ''A…A…Am I?''
I took a moment to feel proud of myself. To rest after what felt like such a strain. A face suddenly appeared above mine.
''I'll tell you where you are. You're at the end.'' I gasped as I saw his face. He was flawless. Inside my head I kicked myself. Did I seriously just gasp at a guy? It's probably the fact that I'm going crazy and I seem to have been kidnapped. Kidnapped. So why don't I feel more scared. The man's face stayed there, inches from mine, and he spoke again. ''Tell us where they are.''
His voice was clear and crisp. No stupid casual pronunciations or bad grammar like the previous voices. His blonde hair was slicked back but a strand had found itself loose and it was falling over his eye, framing his gaze, making it even more piercing. His blue eyes bore down into mine.
''Listen carefully, Callie. I need you to tell me where they're hiding.'' There was authority in his voice. ''The order of the round table are hiding out somewhere and you need to tell me where.''
''I have no idea what the hell you're on about!'' I spat. I felt surprisingly calm. Something was off. I should have been fearing for my life but I wasn't.
''Glamouring isn't working. She's one of them for sure, man!'' Spoke up one of the illiterate morons of before.
''Can I just kill her already? She's either stupid or she doesn't know.'' A woman's voice this time, with a deep southern accent. I tried to look at her, swivelling my eyes in her direction but she was just out of my sight.
''No. I'm taking her back.'' The blonde man spoke once more.
His fingers brushed through my hair and through all the drugs they'd given me, I felt it. The panic. This was the man from my recent dreams. Tearing my hair out. Leaving me to die. Leaving me to kill myself. I tried to move as he lifted me in his arms but my muscles were heavy and useless. But the panic still rose in me, stinging through me like bile. My breathing got heavier and heavier until eventually I felt a sharp prick in my arm. I panicked for a few more seconds, but then my eyelids started to get heavy. They closed against my will and I fell asleep once more.