I stand and watch from the shadows as living and dead alike dance as though possessed. The Macabray. The Dance of Death. Danse Macabre, call it what you will. The name doesn't matter, either way it is a source of endless torture for me.

I have witnessed five Macabray's but have never took part. The Danse Macabre is a reserved right for either the living or the dead, nothing in between. Well, I am that thing in between. Not dead but still not quite alive. My kind-like the Macabray-has many names. The dancing turns wilder and wilder then lulls. And I hear it…

…The sound of hooves on cobbles. Familiar, yet new after nearly twenty years of not hearing them. Haunting. My stomach begins to churn with dread. I stand undecided of whether to turn and take flight or fulfil my heart's dearest wish of seeing her again and risk drowning in my own sorrow. But it's too late for decisions now for the horse has rounded the corner and I can no longer move, my limbs are frozen as though rigor mortis has set in.

She rides bareback on the great white horse, her face serene. She then slips down to the ground and bobs a shy curtsy, a demure smile playing over those graceful lips. The music starts again and she begins to dance. She dances with many but I know not who for I only look at her. I cannot tear my eyes from her lithe and graceful movements. I wonder what it would be like to stand before her, touch her hand and ask for the pleasure of the next two dances. Then a voice tears me from my fantasies, a voice calling my name. I recognise a mop of mousy-brown hair and my body is overcome with a fresh wave of despair.

"Silas!" Bod calls, waving to me as he skipped and stepped with the Lady on the Grey. I felt myself becoming increasingly flustered as I watched her large grey eyes rise slowly from Bod's face, scan the square momentarily then meet my own. For several terrible seconds our eyes were locked in an infallible, somewhat unbreakable connection . The corners of her lips began to rise in a smile of greeting and I quickly stepped back into the safety of the shadows.

I stood for a moment regretting that I had ever came here, ever intruded on this event exclusive to the living and the dead. I wasn't wanted here, I didn't belong. I left for the graveyard, for the chapel; my home. I spent the rest of the night and the next day in solitude, forcing myself to forget about the events of the Macabray, but something wouldn't let me forget; Bod. Twilight came and as I scrambled down the chapel tower and brushed the dust from my clothes I knew he was itching to interrogate me on the dance. He asked his insistent questions but I gave no replies, even trying to convince him that even I was unsure of the happenings of last night, then he said something that caught me off guard.

"Silas I danced with the lady!"

I felt as though my very heart that been ripped from my body, as though my soul had withered and died.

"This conversation has ended." I said stiffly. Then the snow began to fall. Small and powdery, it floated down to earth and came to a rest on the overgrown grass between and upon the graves. Bod gazed about in wonderment. His lack of attention to me gave me the opportunity to skulk back into the chapel and spend another few days alone.

Trying to forget.