Chapter 2: Her Prison
Disclaimer: I do not own CATS.
The room was completely bathed in sunlight as various rays were scattered by the many crystals and mirrors adorning the room. Large French doors that no longer opened spanned an entire wall as glass teardrops hung in front of them, scattering rainbows across the entire room. Even though beautiful was the only word that could be used to describe the space; it was not at all warm or inviting. The light fell on a harsh wood floor that was polished to an extent that looked as if it had never been tread upon. The wall perpendicular to the windows was composed of mirrors from floor to ceiling. The room was almost completely empty except for the sunlight, a small stepstool in the corner, and a single white feline posed beautifully in the center of the unnecessarily large room. Back in its day, when the vacation house was used by only the finest humans, this area served as a ballroom. The echoes of the music and laughter had long since faded from those walls, and an unwelcome emptiness filled the air.
The queen cat was long and lean. Her limbs were lithe and graceful as they wistfully moved about in order to maintain her balance while creating beautiful portraits with each pose. A snow-white tail flicked delicately with every movement, continuing each line of her body while each dance position subtly maintained.
The dancer was barely out of kittenhood, but her body was that of a full queen's. She had clearly outgrown her kitten fat, and her limbs had lengthened to fit her sleek stature. Her muzzle had thinned out as the last remnants of kitten fluff had long since been replaced by smooth, short fur.
As the ghostly cat slowly pirouetted to face the mirror, she froze and held her position, relishing the perfection of each line and the poise in her current pose. Her blue eyes glistened with satisfaction as she gracefully let her limbs descend to the ground as delicately as the setting sun.
With slow and deliberate steps, the petite queen padded softly towards the mirror. She paused when she was only a few inches away and slowly held out her paw, placing it on the cold surface. She drew her breath as she contemplated the mirrors before her. They were unnerving slates of glass that would never allow one to lie or hide things, at least not in this light. She couldn't help but stare into the sapphire eyes of the stranger that seemed to gaze back at her through the glass. An odd flicker of emotion seemed to pass through them as the queen leaned even closer…
"Victoria, darling!" A deep voice bounced through the room.
Victoria flinched and quickly let her eyes and paw fall. She sheepishly glanced up to the portly tom tottering through the doorway. A gentle smile broke out on her face as she gave a brief dip of her head to her father, though making no move towards him.
The portly tuxedoed tom held a clownish grin that seemed to span his entire face, which was rather wide. Bustopher paused to lean against the doorframe as he off-handedly fiddled with his face fur. "That was quite superb my dear! You make your family proud." He voice was deep and comforting, like a father's should be.
Victoria's eyes dropped again as she glanced around the room, looking everywhere but at her father. After a silent moment of contemplation, the fair queen turned her back to her father and walked towards the only piece of furniture in the room. Placed perfectly in the center of the small stool that served as a table was a delicate porcelain saucer containing crystal clear water. A soft white face dipped towards the reviving liquid as a small pink tongue lapped up a few sips. Victoria gracefully lifted her head and cocked it to gain a better view of an old ragged, mouse-shaped cat toy tucked next to the bowl, almost out of sight. As she absentmindedly began to roll a tattered felt ear in her paw, she smiled again and turned to the unexpected visitor. "Thank you Papa. That means a lot."
Bustopher let out a loud chuckle as he held out his arms, beckoning his daughter into an embrace. "No need to thank me, dear! It's you who've put in all the work!"
A shy giggle reverberated throughout the room as Victoria jogged over to her father and lost herself in his embrace. In fact, with his overwhelming bulk, it was actually rather hard to spot the small queen surrounded by puffy black and white arms encircling her and pulling her closer
The large tom nuzzled the top of his precious daughters head before pulling back. "William would have been proud, Vicky. Remember how he used to teach you his favorite dance moves?" Bustopher's voice sounded far away as a flicker of sadness caused his smile to fall a small fraction.
Only the flicker of a single alabaster ear showed any response from the downy queen lost in the folds of furry arms. After a quick second of silence, the queen wrapped her arms as far as they could reach around the tom's waist and gave him a weak squeeze. "Papa…please…" she mumbled into his white bib as she shut her eyes tight.
If Bustopher heard, he pretended not to. The plump tom placed his paws securely on Victoria's shoulder and he held her at arm's length. He glanced up and down, sizing the beautiful queen up and down. "Oh, look at you; completing your first year as a queen! And the Ball this year will be your great debut…Ah, dear Victoria…I don't know if you remember William's Ball debut, it was the talk of the tribe. Oh how he could dance! You will surely rival his skill and dancing prowess!" Bustopher rubbed his paws up and down on Victoria's upper arms, emphasizing his words.
"Th-thank you Papa." Victoria whispered, averting her gaze to the ground, noting every grain in the woodwork.
Bustopher seemed a bit taken aback by her lack of response and he blinked a few times to gather his thoughts. He quickly added an extra pat on Victoria's shoulder and gave a nervous nod. "Why don't you run through it again? I would love to see the whole number you've planned, I only caught the tail end just now."
Victoria quickly gathered her tail in her paws and began to fiddle with it nervously. "Actually…Papa you see…I was hoping I could have a break and visit the junkyard." Her words were rushed, but not unintelligible. Every once in a while she would sneak a glance up at her father's serious countenance.
The elderly tom straightened himself up and rested his paws nervously on his protruding stomach. "V-Vicky, darling. What brought on this?" He seemed genuinely surprised and taken by surprise.
The downy queen shrugged her pristine shoulders. "Papa. I-I'm tired of dancing. I was hoping to visit my friends." Victoria's voice was quiet and shy. She knew she was in dangerous territory.
Bustopher took a step back as he shook his head as if trying to wrap his mind around what was before him. "But Victoria…not today. Some other time perhaps."
Victoria felt anger begin to well up insider her. She knew it wasn't right to disrespect her father, but she was tired of this den. This place was no home, it was a prison! However, it's not like anyone would believe her if she breathed a word about it. Instead of locks and bars, the queen was shackled by memories and chained by despair. Even though it had been almost two years since…since the incident, she could still feel its weight pulling her down the slippery slope of despair.
This time it was Victoria's turn to back away. "But Papa…!"
The refined tom shook his black and white head repeatedly as he waved his paws in the air, indicating that the conversation needed to end. "No but's Victoria! Not today. Whenever you go to the junkyard, you always come back upset. Not to mention how dangerous it is to get to the yard! You could get hurt…or even killed!" The tom's voice caught in his throat as the last words, it didn't take a genius to know his mind was slipping back to William.
Somehow, her father's hesitation only mounted her growing fury. Victoria turned and stormed across the room to the small stool she'd left earlier. She stared at the water in the dainty bowl; it was so calm with not a single ripple running across it. This placid surface only created another mirror to show Victoria her pain. The eerie calmness only seemed to unnerve her more.
The queen angrily threw her paw against the fragile saucer and watched it as water flew everywhere and the china made contact with the floor. A million little pieces skittered across the wood and scattered, making the room as dangerous physically as it was mentally.
Victoria froze for a moment, realizing what she had done. But she quickly realized how gratifying the release felt. She turned a daring eye to her father, her temper boiling into her icy gaze.
"Victoria!" Bustopher roared as the last echoes of the shattered saucer settled into silence.
"No!" Victoria hissed. "I want you to listen to me!" The small queen could hear her voice rise in volume, but she couldn't help it, she was ready to release two years of pain. "Maybe I'm upset because I have to come back to this prison! I have to come home to you!" Victoria tried desperately to blink back the tears that had begun to blur her vision. The young queen could feel her chest heave as she tried to control her breath and the fury raging within her. She glared at her father's feet, unable to look him in his pained eyes.
Silence reigned in the room for a few moments more. Dainty paws began to tremble as the young queen clenched them into fists.
"Vicky…Why don't you just stay here and we can talk about this." A sweet, baritone voice called tentatively across the room.
Victoria's gaze shot up to her father. "Don't you listen to anything I say, or are you too wrapped up in the past?" She hesitated, not sure she wanted to continue. She looked down to see that somewhere in the exchange she had grabbed the small mouse toy and was rolling it back and for between her paws. She glared at it for a few more moments before a new wave of fury overcame her. "Sometimes I wish that I had died instead!"
With her last outburst, Victoria threw the trinket at Bustopher before sprinting out a second door that led to an elaborate porch. The small queen began to sniffle as tears streamed down her face. She tried her best to blink back the salty tears without breaking her stride. Her back paws became a blur as she headed straight for junkyard, oblivious to the world around her.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The other cats will be making their appearance in the next chapter. Please review and let me know what you thought! I am not sure if I made it clear, but this obviously happened before the ball in the move. I'm not sure exactly how much before, but I figure it doesn't really matter. I just wanted you to have a general idea, just so things make sense in future chapters.