Skipped the Lady to the Master's Gate
Written by A Lady Grinning
Chapter 2
It had happened two years before, and yet she remembered every detail like time had stopped on that day. For it really had.
Sarah walks down the stairs like she does every Saturday morning: in a daze, like she's still asleep. She expects to hear Mommy singing Broadway tunes in the kitchen while she makes breakfast, and Daddy clearing his throat while he reads the newspaper in his chair in the living room.
But it's quiet today.
Sarah, suddenly awake, walks into the living room. Daddy isn't reading the newspaper. Daddy is staring at the wall, though he's not really looking at anything, his face glazed over. Sarah begins to call her father's name, but holds back as she notices a piece of paper on the floor by Daddy's feet. Sarah slowly picks it up, and a feeling of dread creeps over her as she reads:
"I can't do this anymore. I've been pretending for so damn long, and I'm sick and tired of it. I have a life beyond you! You know that audition I had last week? It wasn't like any of the other ones. It was for the touring cast of an all-new Broadway production, and I've got a lead role! (No, I'm not going to tell you its name. You'll see my name in lights soon enough as it is.) So, as I would be leaving you soon anyway, I decided that it would be the least cruel to cut it off with you as quickly as possible, to reduce separation anxiety on your part. I don't think I'll miss this life at all.
"Sarah, this is not your fault. It is mine. I shouldn't have thrown
away my life and married your father at all. I'm sure that you'll
have a new mother before long, and she'll do more for you than I ever
could have. Sincerely, Linda."
Sarah is somehow on her hands and knees now, gasping for breath. Daddy still hasn't moved. Neither of them will for a while.
Later that day, Sarah would find a curious little play entitled "The Labyrinth" on her vanity, along with a doll that she would never pay much mind to, but constantly feel the presence of. The doll looked like Jareth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sarah awoke with a start, her face wet.
She was back in her room.
Sarah sighed, wiped the tears off her face, and pulled her knees to her chest. Had it all been a dream? Sarah dismissed this idea immediately; it had only been a few hours before that she had asked herself the same thing, and found herself to be in nothing more than a crude imitation of her room in the Labyrinth's junkyard. Her suspicions rose as she noticed that many of the items in her room were missing. The print of the Escher painting was not there. Gone were the random articles that resembled her friends from the Labyrinth.
Just as she noticed that the doll on the dresser was missing, as well, the man that had the doll's likeness walked through her door.
Sarah jumped at his sudden entrance, but was not surprised that he was there.
Jareth glanced about the room with distaste, then spoke.
"I thought that you might be more comfortable in your own room."
Sarah blurted, "Why is half of my stuff gone?!"
Jareth blinked, as if to say, "Sarah, you ignorant girl, I am shocked that you have not figured it out yourself." He wearily replied, "Sarah, why would you need replicas of features of the Labyrinth when all you need do is go outside?"
Sarah then noticed that the view from her window did not look out on the street, but on a labyrinthine garden. She groaned, fell back on her bed, and covered her head with her dinosaur pillow, remembering the new rules of this tiresome game. She heard Jareth's muffled laughter.
Then, something occurred to Sarah.
She abruptly sat up and said, "If you are the king of far more than just the Labyrinth, why are we still here? You did say that all this isn't real."
Jareth, whose laughter had subsided, replied, "I did not. All this is very real, Sarah. It is also, however, no more than a day old."
He noticed Sarah's look of confusion, so he elaborated.
"The title of King of Dreams designates me with the power to grant mortals their most fantastic dreams, providing that they have a background easy enough to work within and that they ask properly. Belief in the extraordinary is a key element, as well."
Jareth crossed to the chair at the vanity, turned it towards Sarah, and sat down in it, seeing that this was not going to be a short explanation.
As he did so, he continued, "Keeping all this in mind, those I give dreams to are generally young children."
The King paused, and smiled at Sarah.
"You, however, are an exceptional case. Very rarely am I called on by people any older than the age of six."
"I called for the King of the Goblins," Sarah pointed out.
"Indeed you did," Jareth said. "And, as we have previously discussed, I am he. The World of Dreams is a very chaotic one. I very rarely visit it, and I only do when someone calls for me. I created the Underground for you, Sarah, and none other, from all of your dreams spinning around in this world of which I speak. As fantasies are created by what one gathers from everyday life, this is what I did for yours. Most of what you encountered was created by giving life and character to inanimate objects in your room."
Sarah interjected, "Are all of the fantasies that you give to people as complicated as mine?"
"Certainly not. Most of them end up back in their beds marveling over what lovely dreams they've had. You, however . . . have a task to accomplish."
Sarah jumped out of her bed. "According to whom?"
"According to the rules, Sarah. And as I make the rules, they are according to me."
Sarah exclaimed, "Then what am I supposed to do?!"
Jareth looked at Sarah incredulously, stood, and said, "Solve your Labyrinth."
Sarah looked hopelessly at Jareth and said, "That hardly helps."
"Quite frankly, Sarah," Jareth said, smiling, as he backed away towards the door. "I don't believe that I have anything to say that will. You are essentially the creator of all this. In the meantime, feel free to explore the castle. It is quite large. Your friends are most likely somewhere around here. I'll see you at supper at seven this evening, by that clock."
Jareth pointed over Sarah's head.
Sarah whirled around and noticed that a thirteen-hour clock was on the wall, saying that the time was currently 8:63 in the morning.
"Right! And what am I to do until then?!"
When there was no reply, Sarah turned around.
The King was gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reviews are greatly appreciated. ::wide grin::
Written by A Lady Grinning
Chapter 2
It had happened two years before, and yet she remembered every detail like time had stopped on that day. For it really had.
Sarah walks down the stairs like she does every Saturday morning: in a daze, like she's still asleep. She expects to hear Mommy singing Broadway tunes in the kitchen while she makes breakfast, and Daddy clearing his throat while he reads the newspaper in his chair in the living room.
But it's quiet today.
Sarah, suddenly awake, walks into the living room. Daddy isn't reading the newspaper. Daddy is staring at the wall, though he's not really looking at anything, his face glazed over. Sarah begins to call her father's name, but holds back as she notices a piece of paper on the floor by Daddy's feet. Sarah slowly picks it up, and a feeling of dread creeps over her as she reads:
"I can't do this anymore. I've been pretending for so damn long, and I'm sick and tired of it. I have a life beyond you! You know that audition I had last week? It wasn't like any of the other ones. It was for the touring cast of an all-new Broadway production, and I've got a lead role! (No, I'm not going to tell you its name. You'll see my name in lights soon enough as it is.) So, as I would be leaving you soon anyway, I decided that it would be the least cruel to cut it off with you as quickly as possible, to reduce separation anxiety on your part. I don't think I'll miss this life at all.
"Sarah, this is not your fault. It is mine. I shouldn't have thrown
away my life and married your father at all. I'm sure that you'll
have a new mother before long, and she'll do more for you than I ever
could have. Sincerely, Linda."
Sarah is somehow on her hands and knees now, gasping for breath. Daddy still hasn't moved. Neither of them will for a while.
Later that day, Sarah would find a curious little play entitled "The Labyrinth" on her vanity, along with a doll that she would never pay much mind to, but constantly feel the presence of. The doll looked like Jareth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sarah awoke with a start, her face wet.
She was back in her room.
Sarah sighed, wiped the tears off her face, and pulled her knees to her chest. Had it all been a dream? Sarah dismissed this idea immediately; it had only been a few hours before that she had asked herself the same thing, and found herself to be in nothing more than a crude imitation of her room in the Labyrinth's junkyard. Her suspicions rose as she noticed that many of the items in her room were missing. The print of the Escher painting was not there. Gone were the random articles that resembled her friends from the Labyrinth.
Just as she noticed that the doll on the dresser was missing, as well, the man that had the doll's likeness walked through her door.
Sarah jumped at his sudden entrance, but was not surprised that he was there.
Jareth glanced about the room with distaste, then spoke.
"I thought that you might be more comfortable in your own room."
Sarah blurted, "Why is half of my stuff gone?!"
Jareth blinked, as if to say, "Sarah, you ignorant girl, I am shocked that you have not figured it out yourself." He wearily replied, "Sarah, why would you need replicas of features of the Labyrinth when all you need do is go outside?"
Sarah then noticed that the view from her window did not look out on the street, but on a labyrinthine garden. She groaned, fell back on her bed, and covered her head with her dinosaur pillow, remembering the new rules of this tiresome game. She heard Jareth's muffled laughter.
Then, something occurred to Sarah.
She abruptly sat up and said, "If you are the king of far more than just the Labyrinth, why are we still here? You did say that all this isn't real."
Jareth, whose laughter had subsided, replied, "I did not. All this is very real, Sarah. It is also, however, no more than a day old."
He noticed Sarah's look of confusion, so he elaborated.
"The title of King of Dreams designates me with the power to grant mortals their most fantastic dreams, providing that they have a background easy enough to work within and that they ask properly. Belief in the extraordinary is a key element, as well."
Jareth crossed to the chair at the vanity, turned it towards Sarah, and sat down in it, seeing that this was not going to be a short explanation.
As he did so, he continued, "Keeping all this in mind, those I give dreams to are generally young children."
The King paused, and smiled at Sarah.
"You, however, are an exceptional case. Very rarely am I called on by people any older than the age of six."
"I called for the King of the Goblins," Sarah pointed out.
"Indeed you did," Jareth said. "And, as we have previously discussed, I am he. The World of Dreams is a very chaotic one. I very rarely visit it, and I only do when someone calls for me. I created the Underground for you, Sarah, and none other, from all of your dreams spinning around in this world of which I speak. As fantasies are created by what one gathers from everyday life, this is what I did for yours. Most of what you encountered was created by giving life and character to inanimate objects in your room."
Sarah interjected, "Are all of the fantasies that you give to people as complicated as mine?"
"Certainly not. Most of them end up back in their beds marveling over what lovely dreams they've had. You, however . . . have a task to accomplish."
Sarah jumped out of her bed. "According to whom?"
"According to the rules, Sarah. And as I make the rules, they are according to me."
Sarah exclaimed, "Then what am I supposed to do?!"
Jareth looked at Sarah incredulously, stood, and said, "Solve your Labyrinth."
Sarah looked hopelessly at Jareth and said, "That hardly helps."
"Quite frankly, Sarah," Jareth said, smiling, as he backed away towards the door. "I don't believe that I have anything to say that will. You are essentially the creator of all this. In the meantime, feel free to explore the castle. It is quite large. Your friends are most likely somewhere around here. I'll see you at supper at seven this evening, by that clock."
Jareth pointed over Sarah's head.
Sarah whirled around and noticed that a thirteen-hour clock was on the wall, saying that the time was currently 8:63 in the morning.
"Right! And what am I to do until then?!"
When there was no reply, Sarah turned around.
The King was gone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reviews are greatly appreciated. ::wide grin::