Chapter 25: THE THIRD NIGHT OF THE BALL: Confrontation
The third night...
The third evening of the ball began quite similar to the previous two... although it would end quite differently. I took my time getting ready, and then we went outside into the cool night air, and stepped into the waiting carriage. Everyone was giving me the silent treatment-- as if they thought I would take offense, but what can I say? It was actually quite refreshing. And as opposed to the other nights, I carried with me all of my worldly possessions, as instructed by the prince-- my fiancé the previous evening-- it was still so difficult to believe that I was engaged! But the small golden band I wore around my finger served as a constant reminder; when Jessica had seen it, she had actually grown green with envy. I had merely laughed silently, and had ignored her...
This is everything I've ever wanted, I realized, watching Jessica step into the carriage; her bruise ever shining; No more pain, I realized; beaming, "Get in, Beatrice dear," she suddenly whispered; I got into the carriage, and rolled my eyes at her false kindness; What is she? Bipolar? I thought, as the carriage started up, and then began to speed away from the house-- I gave Jessica a dirty look once her back was turned, and suddenly, my "family" was acting very strange now; all nice and friendly-- too nice and friendly, actually, following her suit, on the way to the palace, I was given comments on my hair, my makeup, and even my dress; now that we were out of the house, Jessica was acting all giggly (miraculously cured from her drunkenness the previous evening, and massive hangover this morning), while the pig-woman and her mate were constantly glancing back at me on the way to the palace; as if checking in on me-- to make sure I hadn't vanished in a puff of smoke, "Why are we going so fast?" I called, trying to keep my hair up in a bun, though the rush of wind from outside was greatly attempting to stop this.
No answer.
Well, that was expected, but couldn't they just attempt to answer an honest question for once?-- this was their last chance, after all, andwell, I was going to be answered, "Why are we going so fast?" I repeated.
"Why, Beatrice dear," Pig-Woman gushed from the front of the carriage, pausing to turn around, and smile at me, "don't you want to see the prince tonight?" and she did something too unexpected; she winked at me, sending shudders up my spine.
Jessica just giggled, and took a fan from out of her pocket, and began fanning herself like mad.
And when we got there... I had to yank out of the twit's arm; she had linked arms with me as if were some stupid children playing some sick and pointless game.
Having rescued myself, I began to run away from her, and up the palace steps, while hearing her shrieking at the top of her voice something like: "Ta! Do invite to the wedding! I could be the bridesmaid. After all, I do look oh so pretty in pink!"
"And to think I once liked that movie," I scoffed to myself as I entered the ballroom, and began the search for my fiancé, At least that's the last I'll be seeing of her, I thought with great happiness as I wandered further into the ballroom, and saw a few familiar faces-- mainly those who had laughed and pointed after I had made a recovery from fainting.
But, always the reliable prince, he was able to find me first, "Hello," he whispered, taking my hand in his.
He was as handsome as ever, and my face instantly lit up at the sight of him, "Hey," I replied, looking over my shoulder to make sure I had at last lost them; something about tonight was amiss; the wind was blowing too harshly-- there was something foul in the air; my heart sped. I felt uneasy, "Can we go somewhere else? I--"
And then I cut myself off; I saw that he was not as happy as he had been the previous two nights; he seemed troubled-- frightened-- shaken, "What's wrong?" I asked, concerned, as he squeezed my hand.
"It's nothing," he whispered; clearly lying, and then, "I suppose you haven't heard," he obviously said this to try to change the atmosphere.
"Heard what?" I asked, skeptically, as I realized that all of the rest of the guests were behaving rather strangely as well; their staring skills had seemed to heighten, as had their whisperings, "Heard what?" I repeated, as he had not yet provided me with an answer.
"That everyone has been wondering where exactly you came from-- It's almost like you just crawled right out of the woods or something."
"You'd be surprised," I laughed, trying to shake off the uneasiness of being watched-- but not just by the guests... there was something else, "Look," I whispered, "can we go somewhere...? The eyes..."
I drifted off, unsure of the reason.
"I just love your sense of humor," he whispered, squeezing my hand again, and ignoring my second comment. He was uneasy; he obviously didn't want to leave the comfort of the ballroom. But what was going on tonight...? I still couldn't put my finger on it-- maybe he would know, "Look, what's wrong with--"
"What a lovely bride this young lady will make for thee," a voice suddenly interrupted from somewhere behind us.
"Excuse me, Miss," the prince began, turning to face the woman who had spoken, "but, do I know you?"
"I do not believe so, Your Highness. As to be so bold, you are the most handsome fellow I've ever laid eyes on."
"Why thank you," he replied; obviously having dealt with people like this before.
I spun around; that voice was so familiar to me, and yet I simply could not place it... it was as if I had not heard it speak in years.
"No offense in my boldness, I presume?" she asked.
"None taken, my dear. Now, if you would excuse me...?"
I stared at her; the woman was now standing beside my fiancé, trying to make small talk.
I had never seen her before, and yet she was strangely familiar to me; her face was kind and good natured, and she wore her orange hair in two tight braids-- She looked exactly like an adult-version of that annoying Girl-Scout who used to live down the street from me-- the one who had always tried to sell me her stupid cookies... I had hated that girl.
"I'm Claire," she said, noticing that I was gawking at her, as she extended a hand for me to shake.
I chose not to take it, "Charmed," I lied, as the music began, and a few of the couples began to dance.
"If you would excuse us," he said, turning to face me again, and extending his arm, "Shall we?" he asked, as I wrung my hands nervously.
I remained silent; I was beginning to sweat... There was something bad about tonight, and I couldn't stand it anymore, "Shall we?" he asked, once again, as I put my hand to my forehead, and found that it was burning hot.
"I'd rather not," I answered, truthfully, feeling my face flush, as 'Claire' began looking me up and down; my heart was, for some strange reason, trying to force its way out of my chest-- as if it felt threatened by this harmless thing.
"Do you feel faint, my Beatrice?" he asked me, concerned.
"No," I replied, though nothing could be farther from the truth, as the room was beginning to spin, "I think I just need to sit down and cool down for a while; you go out and dance... Have a good time."
"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked, looking at me as if I were mad.
"I'll go call a doctor," Claire said, with mock concern, beginning to run off in the other direction; her creamy gown bouncing up and down as she went.
"Please don't," I called after her, causing her to stop dead in her tracks, "I'm fine..." I repeated, offering him a kind smile, although it was rather easy to tell that it had been forced; I stared deeper into his eyes, "Really," I said, reassuringly, "I just need to sit down for a bit."
By this time, Claire had made quite a bold move; she had linked arms with my fiancé saying, "I'll just stay here, and keep Princey company," she batted her stupid eyebrows, and I rolled my eyes, as I turned my back to her; determined to find someplace where I could sit down.
Problem was-- there was absolutely no where to sit, so as an alternative, I stood in a corner, looking quite stupid instead.
What's wrong with me? I wondered, returning my gaze to Claire, only to find her commenting on the weather, Who is she...? Who can she possibly be? My head was pounding; I needed some aspirin, but of course, this was the nineteenth century-- and an alternate universe; there simply was not any aspirin to be found anywhere. I still wanted some though.
"Are you the bride to be?" someone suddenly asked, pulling me out of my dream-world.
I turned around, almost annoyed by the intrusion; I find a small girl-- no older than seven staring at me, "Yes," I replied, my voice hardly higher than a steady whisper.
She ran away, all giggles; Jessica suddenly approached me, "Oh," I said, disappointed, "It's you."
She ignored me, "My regards," she said, holding up her glass to me, and then draining it in a single sip; I forgot about Claire for a second, "Really now?" I asked, "Haven't you had enough?" for Jessica could barely stand.
"No matter," she replied, waving her hand, "No matter," she held the glass up to her lips, and then remembering it was empty, dropped it to the floor... (and nearly followed it, for that matter). I laughed, "Where is he?" she demanded, standing up on her tiptoes. Stop tempting me, I thought, feeling the urge to push her.
"Hold your horses," I replied, "he's right over there," I pointed towards the table; he was still trying to ignore Claire's conversational starters.
I stared at Claire long and hard, trying to place her, and then she let out a laugh, Wait a minute, I thought, I know that laugh!
"Is he or isn't he a hunk?" Jessica suddenly asked, heaving a heavy sigh.
"Sure," I whispered, beginning to run back towards the table.
When I finally arrived, I was too late, for my fiancé has already fallen to the floor, and the ballroom has gone all quiet-- as if someone had hit the Mute button-- total silence, and then the panic began: "Is he dead?" "Where's a doctor?" "Is he out cold yet?"
A crowd had quickly formed around his lifeless body, and I began to fight my way into the center; Claire had already disappeared, and my eyes filled with tears; She's gotten away again, I thought, panicked, She's taken another loved one away, and she won't answer for it...
"JACQUELINE!" I suddenly screamed, deciding to let it all out; everyone was staring at me. There was silence once again, and I easily spotted her in the crowd; her flaming red hair was easy to spot, after all; I felt my hands clenching into fists on their own accord, as she began to laugh at me, disappearing, and then reappearing directly beside my fiancé's body.
She shook her braids away, and she is now the Jacqueline I know and loathe once again; complete with her plait of blonde hair gently bouncing against her small shoulders.
"A shaska!" some random person in the ballroom screamed, panicked.
The ballroom quickly emptied out as the guests began to flee for their lives; they were obviously cowards, but it didn't matter. It was actually better this way.
I am all alone with Jacqueline, as I have dreamt it.
"Dead as a doornail," she said, holding his lifeless hand, and then allowing it to drop to the marble floor once again, "he was rather handsome, wasn't he?" she patted his bloodless face, "A pity," her eyes fell upon me once again, "You've grown my child," she whispered, looking me up and down, "You look just like your mother; say hello to her for me," her eyes fell upon the stone around my neck; it flashed white for a moment, as if spurned by her cold look, "Old magic will not save you now."
I ignored her comment; it was meaningless to me, "How could you?" I asked, my voice a hiss, "Why him? Why not me?"
"My dear Beatrice, you don't honestly believe that I came here just to kill Princey, do you?" she paused, "Do you?" she repeated.
"I love him, and you took him away."
"Did you now? Did you really love him? Or was it just for the protection? Well, listen up, girl. There is no protection in this world-- or any other world."
"Fuck you," I hissed, "Why have you done this to me? Why can't you stay away?"
"Oh, I never tire of you," she laughed, "that's why I sent you here. To--"
"He was my fiancé, and you took him away just like that-- on a whim," my head was still spinning.
"Don't get all anal about it," she said, standing up; her beautiful white ball gown glowing eerily.
"I hate you," I hissed.
"Lots of people do," she said, simply.
There has to be a way... I thought, There has to be a way...
"Don't you see it? Haven't you seen this night for months? I've been waiting for this moment, Beatrice. It's time," she slipped a hand into her dress-pocket, and pulled out the silver comb I had seen long ago, and once in a dream, "It's still beautiful, isn't it?" she asked, brandishing it as if it were a sword, "But looks often deceive, don't they?"
"You-- you--" but for once, I was at a loss for words; I approached her, rigid with anger or fear-- I'm not sure which. The room is gone-- This is it; this is the moment I've been waiting for ever since she first entered my home when I was twelve years old.
I slapped the comb out of her hands, and it fell to the floor, clattering noisily, "No weapons, bitch," I said, and I slapped her smartly across the face.
She laughed, "You're bold, my child," she whispered, "but you're not strong enough," and she slapped me across the face; my face was burning and I fell to the floor, "Say goodbye to life, Beatrice..."
"NEVER!" I screamed, and as a last defense, my fingers formed claws, and I began scratching at her face; leaving long bloody streaks, as she bent over to finish the job.
She backed away from me, and laughed; touching her face, and instantly healing the skin.
"YOU CUNT!" I screamed directly into her face, and hearing my harsh words bouncing off of the empty walls; I jumped up off the floor. She wasn't going to kill me. Not today. Not ever.
She slapped me across the face once again, "Pull yourself together, Beatrice. I'm through with these child's games."
"NO!" I screamed, "It's time for you to burn in hell!" and I grabbed at her face, and began pulling at it; the skin melted away like taffy, and blood oozed out onto my pale hands, staining them red, and reminding me of the juice of that apple that had sent me to D'Nalge all that time ago. Jacqueline screamed as he worst fear was made a reality-- her true inner ugliness had been revealed. The face of the shaska... The face that haunts my dreams to this day; the thin skin pulled tightly over a skull-like face, the empty eyes deprived of beauty-- the thin green lips-- the forked tongue.
She spoke again; her voice was little more than a very low hiss now, "You will pay for that, little girl," she whispered, "You will pay," her creamy dress was now stained with blood-- from both of us; I had noticed that I was bleeding as well from the wounds on both of my cheeks. It was now or never. There was little time to waste formulating a plan.
Her lips had begun forming foreign words-- unknown meanings to me; my blood began to run cold... I was dying; A spell, I realized, dumbly, Death... I suddenly screamed, and pushed her away from me; she fell to the floor, trying to get the comb back in her possession; I was now on top of her; I wasn't going to die. She was, "Looking for this?" I asked, holding the comb only inches away from her chest; she screamed at me in foreign tongues, but the spell had no affect; I plunged the smoking comb into her heart not once but for times; once for my mother, once for my father, once for my fairy godmother, and lastly for my fiancé.
When it is over, she is little more than a bloody pulp of filthy beneath me.
She is dead now. She is gone forever.
I stood up, and smiled triumphantly, as her form slowly faded away; she was gone for good. The poisoned comb-- or whatever it was that had been meant to kill me slipped out of my hands, and fell to the floor. My grin widened, and I fell to the floor in a dead faint.
