A Waltz Among the Shadows

She stands in the back of the room with her back against the wall, hands clenched tightly at her sides, observing her surroundings with a crazed look of fear, much like that of a caged animal. No mask adorns her face, no jewelry shines against the pallor of her skin. Her hair lies lank and lifeless around her face, her dress hangs loosely on her gaunt frame, the same inky black as her hair.  

Surrounding her, dancers twirl and laugh, all dressed in bright colors though they are faded, baubles are draped over them in layers against their skin, tarnished and gaudy. Their faces a painted mask. A hundred different scents mingle together in an aromatic cloud. They are all laughing, though it sounds false and forced, and sing off-key with bright smiles, seemingly happy, though their smiles never reach their eyes. Shadows weave in and out among them, though they don't seem to notice. Some have shadows in their faces, but the masks they wear hide the shadows well, enough so to be deceiving.  

The girl against the wall hears a drumbeat playing an accelerated beat in the background, but doesn't think a lot about it. 

She clings to the hideous gray concrete of the wall as though it is a lifeline, pressing herself as close to it as she can in an attempt to escape the body of colorful lies, safe from the shadows that consume souls. Her sanctuary is the only place she feels safe in this crowd, though she can't help but see her sanctuary as a cage, trapping her here. As long as she stays there, she is safe. Safe from the danger surrounding her, but still frightfully vulnerable. She is so afraid of stepping away and getting closer to the crowd, that she doesn't notice the door that lies less than two feet from her, her only means of escape. The song that begins reminds her of a waltz, though it has a very despairing sound to it. No one else in the room but her seems to notice though, as the dancers continue to dance, spin, and laugh as though they don't have a care in the world.  

Underneath the melancholy waltz, the drum continues its frantic beat, dissonant to the waltz the dancers move around to on the dance floor. 

She finds herself being lulled into a trance listening to the music and watching the colors spin around and fade in and out of sight in a dizzying pattern. Her hips start to sway of their own accord to the music, and she frantically tries to shake away the feeling overtaking her mind and body, but finds the more she struggles the harder the music pushes into her mind. Before long, she finds herself moving away from the wall, longing to join the dancers, to be accepted and welcomed. The desire to survive pulses strongly in her mind, almost unbearably, a voice whispering to her that her survival solely rests on her joining in with the crowd, not sticking out from them. 

The drum's beat falters but steadies, though is much weaker than before.   

The shadows slowly become less and less apparent as she pushes herself further from the wall, still keeping one hand pressed firmly against the wall, a small part of her fighting the feeling of wanting to be assimilated. She watches in amazement as the colors start to become more vibrant, an aureole of light surrounding them all, wiping away the last of the shadows. It almost seems too good, too pure, too bright to be real. The music they dance to, at first, seems to clash in chaotic chords but she pays it no mind. Entranced, she admires the beauty of everyone dancing around her, unaware that they easily close the gap between her and the wall as she willingly takes her final step away. 

The steady beat slows, becoming erratic no longer keeping a specific time. 

Suddenly, she is pulled out onto the floor and into a waltz, a laugh of joy escaping her lips as she is twirled and held close. At first she is dizzy and everything blurs together, making it hard for her to focus, still a part of her fighting. A hot, breathy whisper against her ear tells her to relax, and that everything will be made better soon. As they dance by a mirror, she looks at her reflection, a small gasp of surprise leaving her lips. Her drab, boring dress is now a more brilliant black than it had been earlier, and much more intricate in the weave. She lifts the skirt a little to find the fabric is soft and luscious to the touch, the skirt just heavy enough to fall in beautiful folds, but light enough that she can maneuver in the complicated dance steps she had been lead into. Her skin is no longer gray and exhausted, but healthy and vibrant with life. Her once gaunt form is now more full figured, the dress flattering her where it should. Jewels decorate her wrists and throat, glittering even in the dark and her hair is atop her head in a complicated knot. She is now as beautiful as the dancers surrounding her in all their finery. 

The beat of the drum barely beats now, almost too weak to notice. 

She finally looks in the mirror to see her face, confusion settling in at the painted mask that is in the place where she is so used to seeing herself. For the first time since dancing, a seed of fear wedges itself in her heart. She looks around frantically for her sanctuary or the exit, but finds that she can see nothing through the sea of colorful dresses and painted on smiles.  

The beat becomes strained

The hands leading her through the waltz become claws, sinking into her skin in a deathly grip to keep her from running. She looks into the once handsome face only to find that no longer can she see his handsome features, but rather shadows behind a mask. She tries to scream, only to find that she can't force enough sound out to matter. She feels the music pulse harder against her mind and tries frantically to grasp back onto the beating drum, only to have it whisper out of her grasp. Tears run down and stain her cheeks as she realizes what she has done. In that moment of weakness, the music wiggles back into control and she is forced back into a mindless happiness, uncaring of the sinister and triumphant notes of the music they waltz to.  

The last drum beat resonates in the room in a last act of defiance dissonant to the music, before joining into the waltz, providing a beat for the dancers on the floor.