Dancing in the Dark

Chapter 6: Chased by the Past

Days past in a blur, a meld of dancing and dirty motels. Hazel found herself dancing day and night until her feet bled. She had to bandage them every day and even after she had worked them through. On Christmas Eve, Henry came to her side when she was dancing at the town by herself.

"Hazel, we are going to have a Christmas spectacular tomorrow."

Hazel had guessed as much, they always did. But it was never amazing, Henry made late plans and it ended up being a fluke.

Henry pulled a small book from his pocket, "The Ash Girl," he whispered, and shoved the book into her hands.

"Cinderella."

Hazel stared at the pages, her eyes running over the faded, and pressed words. It was beautiful. The title read Children's and Household Tales. When she looked up, Henry was gone.

***

.       So it came to be that Hazel sat in a crowded bar that night, her head delved into the story of the Ash Girl. The Ash Girl had two false sisters who were daughters of Cinderella's sister. Cinderella's mother had died and left her with misfortune. One day Cinderella asked her father to bring her a stick home while the sisters asked for golden dresses. The father did, and with that, gave the Ash Girl her hazel stick. The Ash Girl stuck her hazel branch into her mother's grave outside her house. Hazel felt tears blur her vision, thinking of her own mother and the Hazel tree she was named after. After time consuming tasks forced upon by the stepmother, Cinderella was not allowed to go to an amazing ball, for she was dirty. Hazel closed her eyes and began to sob into her knuckle, chest aching from not screaming. Hazel couldn't help but relate to Cinderella. She would forever be stuck in this world of hatred, and when she turned to love, they would all brush her away because she was nothing more than a tainted, broken ballerina. The bartender asked her if she was alright and Hazel nodded, focusing hard on the text. The hazel tree had come to Cinderella's luck. All she had to say was,

'Shiver and quiver little tree. Silver and gold rain down over me."

Hazel's fingers trailed over these words, once, twice, thrice. She glanced over at Neal and Henry, drunk and cheering on Christmas Eve. She wondered if she was their own little hazel tree. She had to tremble and shiver and shake and they held their hands out for the silver and gold, anything to put Magical Feet on top. Like all fairy tales ended, Cinderella had ended up with her prince. Cinderella had left her golden slipper on the palace staircase and the prince had gone searching for the perfect fit to the girl he had danced with all night long. The Ash Girl, Cinderella. The dirty girl was now worth something to someone. Hazel closed her eyes and saw Nathaniel's face, and the sparkling performer and heard Blake speaking in her mind. She would escape. If Cinderella could do it, so could she. Making sure that Neal and Henry were still in their drunken stupor, Hazel pulled at the crumpled note from her dress. The letters were now faded.

Hazel,

Do not forget our plan. Be ready in one month, December 24th. Midnight.

       -Nathaniel Gideon

Hazel looked down at her wrist. Just one day left. One day and she would be worth something more. One day and she would no longer be their hazel tree, shaking and shuddering and giving them the profit. It was time to leave, to escape. Her and the Ash Girl would make it. Together.

       Hazel watched Henry and Neal the rest of the night. They were now both drunk stupid. The acrobats lingered in the corner, and their unsettling gazes made her shiver. She stepped outside into the brisk winter air. Hazel made her way to the train, where Oliver and Cleo were leaning against, chatting.

"Merry Christmas Eve," Cleo shouted, and Hazel smiled, waving at them both. Oliver tilted his head toward her, picking up his cap in a welcome.

She made her way to the cart and clambered in. She would open her clutch here, surely it was safe. Hazel looked down at the seat and stared. Before her was a golden dress, simple but extravagant all at the same time. There were no sequins or eye catchers, but the color...

Hazel ran her hand over the soft material. It felt like a golden river, slipping through her fingers. Lying underneath was two slippers, golden as well. Hazel grinned, feeling like Cinderella with her golden attire. A note lay under the shoes and Hazel read it calmly.

Hazel,

One more day. Do not forget. Tick-tock Cinderella.

-Nathaniel Gideon

Hazel wondered how he could possible know that was her act, but guessed competing circuses had some sort of spy. Hazel could not help but feel overwhelmingly happy. She opened her clutch and her eyes landed on the front page of a newspaper. Hazel smoothed it out on her lap and her eyes flitted across it quickly.

Big Swing Mistreats It's Performers

the headline shouted. Hazel's fingers curled around the paper. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that when she opened them, the words would be gone