The glitter. The lights. The gowns. The intrigues. They were all she had ever known. All she could remember knowing. Some part of her cried that she had to have done something; had parents or friends while she was growing up, but even that thought vanished, and she wondered if she was ever young, or had just always been. Sometimes, she could almost remember what happened before the parties, the castle. Something before Jareth. But most of the time the idea of anything before Jareth was so beyond her it didn't even bear thinking about.
Her life was a series of parties, petty courts, balls, social gatherings…she was surprised that such endless events didn't bore her to death, but they never did. She slept all day and woke up just in time to get ready. She didn't eat. In fact, she wasn't entirely sure she slept during the day. Was there even day in this place? Who knew? Who cared? It was just a hazy period of time; everything was hazy…until him. No one could miss his entrance. The regal air, the impeccable fashion sense, the…the everything that made him Jareth. He was the reason she tried so hard each night, with her hair wrapped in rags to create perfect curls and awkward cosmetics painted on her face. Every prayer she uttered was Jareth. But she knew he would never care about her. If he so much as glanced her way, she froze. And if he ever spoke to her…she knew she could never respond while looking into those mismatched eyes.
But he never did.
In fact, he hardly ever looked at her; she was nothing extraordinary. But tonight, something was different. Nothing had been said, no rumor flung about, but something was not the same. She had not felt this feeling before, this fluttery jittery feeling that made her rip her dress and burn her hair and stumble over the trivial tasks that she performed every night. But at last, she was ready.
The ballroom was the same as always, but she still felt that something was different. What, she couldn't quite tell. The walls were as they always had been; the tables full of untouched food remained. Even the lights were constant. For a second she wondered how the candles didn't flicker like they did at home. She was always having to relight them and Mamma…wait. What was that? Something about candles…but it was gone. That annoying flicker of before had lasted only a few seconds. She tried to remember, but then found she couldn't.
For he had walked in.
Breathtakingly beautiful. Not handsome, it was not like that; he was more like an exotic creature or…she didn't have the words to describe what he was. As usual, his gaze rested on no one, he was the same King. Not that he could ever bore her, but she felt that if something in all this sameness could change, it would be him. But Jareth remained as he was; amazing, charming, unreachable. Then why did she feel different? Of course, since she couldn't remember Before, how could she possibly hope to remember what happened last night or the one before or….
And then a girl appeared.
That was it. She was what was different; that girl, with the sparkling dress and innocent eyes. What was she doing here, in the nest of selfish desires and contemptuous betrayals? Her purity made her outshine them all; a girl-child so blameless and naïve that she held more power than any dancer pretended to. Look, she was shrinking as everyone stared at her, when anyone else dancing in this room in her place would have gloated over their victory. It seemed that everyone wanted to look at this girl…even Jareth.
Oh, he toyed with her, making the poor girl get hopelessly lost, but all the dancers knew he would have her. And he did. She looked even more timid in his arms as they danced. It made Jareth draw closer, and everyone else whisper. The other dancers had overcome their awe of this innocent in their midst, and jeered openly at her. Someone had learned the girl's name. Disdainful whispers of Sarah flowed through the hall. They hated her even more because that girl still remembered her name, still had one. Every one else had lost theirs long ago. Perhaps it was the mocking laughter that drew Sarah out of her reverie, away from Jareth. And then she did the impossible; she broke through the dream.
Never had that happened before. As everything swirled around the dancers, myriad memories rolled through one dancer's head. A girl who sometimes remembered Before, if only for a short time. As the past raced through her brain, she desperately tried to keep track of any of them, but they were flowing so fast. She couldn't hold onto a picture for more than a few seconds.
And then.
And then.
She remembered her name.
Erin.
Clinging possessively to this one scrap, she floated through broken glass and dancers. She hardly noticed the pandemonium surrounding her, holding on to that one memory, terrified she would lose it as she had lost everything before. She struggled to hold onto this lifeline, chanting it; a kind of mantra that was known only to her.
Erin. Erin. Erin. Erin. Erin. Erin. Erin. Erin. Erin…