Home
And now the flames, licking the walls of her round room, and she watched them with fascination in her eyes, the same fascination that had terrified her father when she'd first returned, beaten and bedraggled and so much wiser.
They were coming closer. The flames, that is. She sat on her bed and watched them curl round her bookshelf that shelved no books, engulf her wardrobe that held only dresses she refused to wear and ravage the carpet that she herself had woven in an attempt to recreate what was lost forever.
"He's here now." She smiled, and the fire roared its disapproval at her happiness. "He's here to save me."
"No-one is here, Belle. For God's sake girl, there is no-one here!" Her father cried desperately, forgetting himself in his anguish and grabbing her shoulders and shaking her so her lank curls tumbled down around her face.
"Can't you see it? Can't you see him?" And then she reached out, caressing the air with her hands and staring into the deep nothing with a dreamy expression on her face. She cast back her head and laughed when the fire rushed up to meet her fingers, coiling round them and warming her almost to the point of pain. "No pain now, Father. I'm safe now." She took a step towards the window, and her father nearly took a step after her, but something in the air stopped him.
A feeling, a sense of a presence, and that was enough. That was enough for him to realise what he had done. Too late, though. Too late now, dearie.
"Beautiful! Oh Father, look how beautiful!" Again with the laughter, and the blankness of the eyes and the pure contentment that had driven him to such measures. She was dancing with it, dancing with whatever it was that he couldn't see, whatever it was that kept her so overjoyed while he remained so tormented by his daughter's state of mind.
She wanted to fly. She could feel it now, the need to feel the air rushing through her hair and the wind at her fingertips... the fire that was climbing her body was screaming at her to make the jump, believe in the power of herself and that the night would carry her home. "I'm going home, Father! You don't need to worry now, I'm going home!"
"You are home, Belle! This is where you grew up... remember your mother, how she put you up on your first horse and told you to ride; remember when you and I went hunting together and you shot your first deer and you cried for weeks; remember us and remember this home! There is nothing out there for you, do you hear me? NOTHING!"
But his cruel words fell on deaf ears, as the only thing Belle was thinking about as she walked towards the window was a face that sparkled like the night sky at twilight and a castle full of dust and memories of a better time. "I'm coming home to you now." She whispered softly, but there was no-one to hear her.
Without a thought she hauled herself up to the window ledge and looked across at the winking lights of the town, and remembered, although very faintly, a time when she cared for this place more than she cared for her own life. What is the name of this place? She wondered, but her only thought as she fell was, quite simply, of home.