Chapter 15: Lost, Again

My father takes my pale gloved hand in his, and without a word exchanged between the two of us, begins to spin me about the crowded ballroom; couples hopping aside each time we approach them. Everyone is happy; there is music, dancing, food and drink. There is no Jacqueline. There is no pain. No sadness. My beautiful mother stands in a corner, watching us dance; holding a long and elegant fan to hide her face... At long last, this is our night; I smile; happy that my father and mother have at long last returned to me, and that there will be many more nights like this in our never ending future. I look down at my garb, and find that instead of wearing rags, I am totally decked out in a silvery ball-gown that appears to be from the late seventeen-hundreds. I smile at its beauty, and look up at my father, who is beaming at me. "Isn't it a lovely night?" I ask him, and he nods. We continue to dance in happy silence, but a young man is watching us from another corner in the large room, and for some reason, he is envious of our happiness. Suddenly, without any warning, he appears beside us, and wrenches my hand from out of my father's, and begins to whirl and twirl me about the glittering ballroom as the thousands of guests watch; in ecstasy, they begin to applaud as if it some beautiful dance, but it isn't. I call out my father's name, but he is gone-- disappeared into the crowd-- he has abandoned me-- again; I call for my mother, but she is gone as well.

I fight to get away from my new dance partner, but I cannot, for he easily overpowers me. The only word I can find to express what is happening to me is rape. I cannot escape from him; I spin around and around the room until I become dizzy, and then I am somehow heaved across the room, and into the arms of the King. I beg for his help, but he seems deaf, and laughs, full of mirth. His pealing laughter blocks out my pleas, and I begin to despise his pompous appearance and manner. He dances with me in the same crazed fashion, while the applause intensifies. We dance until he becomes bored, and then he throws me into his son's arms... the cycle goes on and on again. They laugh at me; they kiss my neck; they scream my name tauntingly.

And then, the doors of the ballroom burst open, and it is Jacqueline herself who stands in the doorway.

She spots me in the very center of the place, and smiles cruelly. And then she is somehow right beside me. I call out for help-- that she will surely kill me, but everyone seems deaf. I stare at Jacqueline, and scream at the sight of her. She had somehow sprouted scaly, devilish pearly white wings, and they slowly flap with each breath she takes in. The smile upon her beautiful face widens, as she grabs both of my hands; crushing them with such a power I had never thought possible-- even in fairy tales or mythology; the guests of the ball laugh, wildly, while I scream louder and louder as she and I fly away up to the top of the domed ceiling. The guests continue to applaud, and I feel as if I will throw up at any second-- but she will not let me go, and I know this. I know that she will never let me go. Jacqueline takes a clawed hand, and slips it into the pocket of my dress, and a moment later, she pulls out a gnarled tree-branch; fruitless of both leaves and life. She smiles, and the branch springs to life; becoming a strange, twisted green serpent. I scream at it, and the guests suddenly disappear, and I am alone at last with her; this is the moment she has been waiting for. The serpent opens its mouth, revealing a forked red tongue, on which a ripe, red apple sits upon. She plucks the red apple, and it instantly turns black at her touch. She forces the fruit into my mouth, and without the chance to fight, I choke to death, and fall to the floor, all the while hearing her laughter...

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I awoke from the dream in a terrible cold sweat, and realizing that after such a long time, I was now back in my prison; the horrid oasis to which I was now confined once again-- doomed to never escape from it. For who knew what lay outside of the oasis, and inside that dreadful forest? There could be beasts waiting to devour me, or vines wishing to strangle me, or even trees that would fall and crush me-- or Jacqueline herself waiting-- constantly waiting. This is what truly kept me there. Knowing that it would be unwise to take anymore chances, now that she ha followed me to D'Nalge; waiting for my imminent re-arrival; for though the naturally occurring aspects of nature frightening-- far-fetched as some were, they were pale in comparison to Jacqueline.

I looked around my surroundings, though it appeared to be either very late at night or early morning, my surroundings were much too bright; I found the yellow moon caused the glow. I could not sleep. And the nightmare that had awoken me kept me awake for the next week.

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I blinked sleep out of my eyes; knowing that if I slept I would once again be in the danger of revisiting all of my own horrors in my nightmares. Despite myself, I yawned; You haven't slept all week... a small voice whispered in the back of my mind; What real danger is there in a nightmare?

Maybe you're right, I answered the voice, as a voice hissed my name in the darkness; I did not care. This always seemed to happen at night, and whether or not the voice was real or imaginary, I didn't fear it. I knew I was safe in my oasis, and without bothering to open my eyes again, I was asleep.

It truly was a mistake.

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I stare into the mirror to find a grinning reflection staring right back at me-- though it is not my own, "You are beautiful," a voice whispers in the darkness, and the gaze of the mirror shifts from my friend, and I once again find myself in its cool depths. I instantly discover that she is right.

"Thank you," I whisper; allowing Jacqueline a curt nod, before returning to combing my hair with the silver comb that my father has given me; each stroke a part of me grows happier-- with each stroke, more and more, I don the mask of perfection. "You always were a beautiful child," Jacqueline continues, "if--"

"I know," I interrupt her, laying the silver comb down on the small bureau in front of me, "Hurry, or we shall be late for the ball," without hearing her objections, I slip pale cream-colored gloves over my smooth hands, and step out into the cool night air, and the golden glow of the moon; it reveals that I am once again wearing the beautiful flowing silver dress; I gaze up at the manor, and beam at its splendor, "Hurry, Jacqueline," I call from outside, returning my gaze to the road that leads into the forest.

"The ball does not matter," she hisses from behind me.

I laugh at her stupidity, "The ball is everything."

"Maybe to me, but not to you," she whispers, and before I can turn around to question her, I find that she has grabbed the silver comb from off of the table, and has plunged it into my back; I fall to the floor, bleeding to death...

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I woke the following morning, regretting the fact that I had allowed myself to fall asleep; I was scared out of my wits, and even though parts of the dream were now hazy, and I knew that the dream was completely harmless, I still feared it. I heaved a heavy sigh; stood up, and drank deeply from the pool of water. My stomach growled; everything was going wrong, as it had before. The many apples I had taken with me had somehow spoiled in the cool shade, and the bread became tale, while the cheese had molded through and through nearly overnight; thus, I was once again forced to devour the disgusting berries, and although I had been on my own again for only about a week right now, it seemed like centuries.

I put my face into my hands, and cried; it seemed to be the only thing that helped ease the pain. I was lost for a second time, and I knew that this time, there would be no fairy godmother to save me.