November 14th, 1999 – 6:31 AM

I awoke to the startling sound of wood snapping apart against hard cobblestone. I could hear my parents shouting and yelling at each other below me. I closed my eyes hoping that sweet sleep would come again and take me away from this wretched place. I had no idea what they were fighting over; it was never over anything important. More rattling furniture and shouting, I momentarily wondered who had started it this time… before I remembered that it didn't really matter. I rolled over and sighed. Hail pelted down against my window and the sky was grey and overcast, it looked almost as gloomy and empty as my heart.

"Well," I muttered to myself, "you're awake now Karen, there's no point in trying to stay in bed all day."

I carefully tip-toed out of bed and pulled a white tank-top, a pair of jeans out and a purple canvas jacket of my drawer. I heard a door slam and as I pulled on my socks. I heard sobbing down below; nervously I peered through a crack in the floorboards to see down below.

The dining table had been smashed to pieces and father had punched several holes into the drywall of the house, there were bloody smears across the walls. Mother looked fine though, she stood-up and was heading for the supply closet.

I headed down-stairs and into the kitchen. I opened the pantry to do the regular food-check. Raisins and blooming potatoes… I checked the fridge only to close it the moment I opened it. A molding half-bottle of milk some condiments. Raisins for breakfast it was. I slipped out the door quick as you could.

My father stood outside the door as I exited the house. His hands looked battered. "Where do you think you're going?" He asked me.

"To practice dancing." I answered shortly.

"You really should help out a little more around here you know." He "reminded" me. I glowered at him; he barely did anything aside from laze around the house all day and boss the rest of us around.

"I'll do what I want! I'm 15 years old and that makes me an adult!" I asserted stubbornly and spun off in a huff down the lane.

He followed after me, "Don't be unreasonable Karen, you have as much a responsibility to this vineyard as the rest of us."

He grabbing me by the arm. I didn't feel like fighting today, I followed him back-up to the lot. Since it was so late into autumn there wasn't really much to do. I headed down to the wine cellar.

I swept the place from top to bottom, then beached down almost every reachable surface, stirred the wine tanks. The vineyard had been in the family long before I had existed. It was passed down to my mother from her parents and someday it could be mine… if I wanted it to be.

My granny Eve was passionate about wine and as an anniversary gift later in life grandpappy Dan had acquired this land for her. Honestly, things around here hadn't been all that until after they died. Sometimes I can almost smell the scent of that rose perfume she always wore as I worked back here. It brought back good memories.

I remember when I had my first taste of wine, I was only 8 years old but it had tasted like heaven. Granny had taught how to help around the vineyard and I dreamed of the day I would be in charge of it. But now…My parents had never loved each other, as far as I could tell, but they had been respectful of one another until my grandparents passed on two years ago.

Everything where downhill from there: My parents fought all the time, even when there was nothing to fight over. The vines stopped producing as many grapes and the few that did grow were withered and bitter. The buyers dried up and our household was on the verge of bankruptcy.

I was so lost in though I had no idea what time it was by the time I had finished. But it was obviously late. The door to the cellar was locked securely shut from the outside.

The number of nights I'd spent in this cellar was far too many, as a child I my dad would often lock me down here to punish me for some misdeed or another. As I grew older and spent more time helping around the vineyard it became a common accident.

My stomach ached with hunger and I drifted asleep, my back against the cold cellar wall.

November 15th, 1999 – 8:00 AM

I could hear the lock turning in the door. My dad followed an almost robotic routine throughout the morning as he unlocked all the doors and then positioned himself outside the door frame of our house like a ever-watching guardian angel... or at least I remembered thinking that as a kid.

He seemed a lot less benevolent now days... But no one's perfect. Everyone had their bad days.

I lifted myself up from the floor and stretched feeling the tightness of sleeping outside of my bed. I peeled open the cellar door and light poured in. I blinked my eyes as they adjusted; my father was predictably by the front door. He looked at me and a look of overwhelming shame dawned on his face.

We locked eyes as I headed inside. He exchanged an apologetic nod for my head-high look of pride. I headed up to my room, bathed and changed into some fresh clothing. It was a warmed day for autumn so I wore a light weight white turtleneck, jeans and a purple vest.

I headed into toward Mountain Moon, for the carpenter's clearing. Soft, succulent wild grapes coiled around the trees in this clearing. My stomach roared for food and I began to stuff my face with as many of the sticky berries as I could, even some that weren't yet ripe.

Sated I headed to the riverside; I cleaned my hands and then began my dance lessons for the day. I closed my eyes remembering the moves my mother had taught me as a young girl. I let them overtake my body, flowing through me like the wind.

I could feel myself dancing on the air, slow, fluid, controlled. Drifting through the motions I felt alive. In the gloom that processed my soul, even as bad as things were at home, in dancing I found my peace.

A soft clap met my ears. As I opened my eyes I was startled to see I had acquired and audience. A strange dark skinned man that I'd never seen before. His hair was short, frizzy but still somehow glimmering in the sunlight.

"That was quite the performance miss. Haha, I bet you'll be quite the entertainer someday." He said in a soft foreign tone of voice, eyes glittering with what looked like laughter.

I couldn't tell… was he making fun of me? I glowered at him, how he dare he interrupt my dance practice and then mock me.

"Fuck you! I'll be great someday." I shouted, suddenly livid.

His face went deadpan. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and glared at him stubbornly. This is my spot and if anyone was going to leave it was going to be him.

"I'm sorry miss; I had no intention to offend you. I truly meant what I said, your dancing is very lovely." He said trying to rectify the situation.

My face flushed, I didn't know what to say. I looked at his feet and then slowly upward. Bare feet, loose purple pants, toned abs and rippling biceps. I blushed even deeper. He had a shirt, vest and bandana hanging loosely like a scarf from around his neck. But he wasn't wearing them. "Oh."

"Why aren't you wearing the rest of your clothing?" I asked, suddenly confused as to why someone would be outside topless on a 54°F fall day.

"I was just out for a swim. Looking for a new place to work and settle down." He answered.

"If you swam here from somewhere else then how come your clothing is with you and not wet?" I asked.

"Haha, well aren't you the clever little girl. A man can't give away all his secrets." He answered me, "The name's Kai."

Author's Notes: Well, that got unexpectedly dark quick.