Part one

Where did I go wrong? It must have been the day I met you.

My family threw a ball, an annual occurrence, one I despised. Wretched things happened every time, there was always someone to push you up against a dark, secluded corner, someone that the day before wouldn’t even have looked you in the eye. They would leave in a hurry after they were done, rushing back to their wives and family friends, and you would be left behind, with your eyes burning and biting your lip until you could taste blood, praying no one had seen you, lest you be ruined.

It’s always your fault, never theirs.

But that year, my strategy had been different. I had decided to hide in plain sight, not behind a marble column, or in a guest bedroom on the other side of the manor.

So I had stood there, unsure of what to do, all I knew is that I had to blend in. The ballroom had been flooded by a sea of batiste and silk, of every shade of blue imaginable, reflecting the ball’s theme: water.

Couples had danced around me. Family friends, my parents, my cousin Ty with a mysterious girl I hadn’t seen before, as his younger sister Rose, with whom he had always danced before, had stared at them angrily. I stood at the edge of the room, forcing myself to appear busy, so that I wasn’t out of place, but not bored, to avoid someone asking me to dance.

It didn’t work.

A man, much older than I was, appeared out of thin air before me. I scanned the room for Rose, only to find her dancing with Ty. I was completely alone.

He asked me to dance, and I hesitated, trying to find an excuse not to. He grabbed my arm anyway, nails sinking into my flesh, and dragged me towards the other couples.

We danced for a while, and he didn’t let go of me once, but didn’t look at me either. He was just trying to find a way out of here without being noticed. I hoped that someone would notice that I was in distress, and would come to my rescue, but who was I kidding? No one had ever truly cared about me, they just liked to give that impression to outsiders: of a beautiful, united, happy family.

And then the song ended, leaving him, us, a short window of time to depart as the musicians prepared for the next dance. He pulled me away from the crowd as I planted my heels into the mahogany parquet and did everything short of impossible to prevent him from taking me away.

We had almost reached the exit; an archway made of quartz when my parents had approached us. The man’s grip became tighter, but my body relaxed: I was saved!

‘My child,’ my mother had said, ‘I was quite surprised to find you dancing tonight, even if it was brief. You never take part in these events.’

I began to formulate a response, something that would have freed me from this man’s clutches, but he interrupted me, telling them how he had to beg me to dance, and I had only agreed to take part in one, on the condition that we would go for a stroll in the gardens later.

I couldn’t have told them the truth; they wouldn’t have believed me.

‘However’ I had interjected, ‘I don’t believe we can. I should stay behind and help out at the dance; I’ve noticed we are short of a few servants.’

‘Nonsense’ had said father, ‘go to the gardens, it is a very pleasant evening, your mother and I were there earlier. They are quite lively with people so there won’t be any need of a chaperone.’

‘But-’

‘Enjoy your evening!’ the man called out to them as he drew me away.

‘And you’ he murmured in my ear, ‘are going to regret that.’