The Masquerade

The Garden

The garden was something out of a dark fairytale. Beautiful, yet creepy and macabre in a way. The varying shades of plum-colored roses mixed perfectly with the dark-toned nightshade that crept it's way around the garden, blooming in dark corner, creating a dark space that absorbs light in any form that nature gives it. The stone walls gave off the mark of death by human skulls being carved into the facade of each individual grey stone, each with a dark story. Black magic violas were planted next to the black cherry petunias, creating a picture that looked like the swirl of drying blood. At the garden's center, was a fountain made of the same grey stone of the dead walls. Carved stone skulls made up the fountain; water spewing from eye sockets, nostrils, and cracks between teeth. It created the effect of clear, pure blood, pouring from the dead's eyes, symbolizing life leaving the already dead. The only thing that brought some life into the secluded garden was the iron lamps with maroon, blood-colored candles that beheld what looked like the sun's light, shining its essence into the dark. The whole setting of the sad garden brought chills down my spine as I walked with Hugo over to the black, iron bench, next to the only alive thing that the garden contained . . . light, blue flowers.

"The blue flowers really stand out, don't they?" I asked Hugo, making myself feel almost at home on the bench. I looked around the garden to make sure no followed us in, which I highly doubted because Hugo made sure no one by checking behind us ever so often. But the feeling of eyes watching me was ever-present. Maybe it's just all the empty eye sockets. Whoever designed this garden had quite the dark personality.

Hugo made his way over to me after walking the perimeter of the small garden, glancing and looking over all the dark, gothic flowers, making sure everything is in its place. After giving what appeared to be a satisfied nod, Hugo sat down next to me and made himself comfortable by turning his toned body toward him, giving himself up to me and receiving my full and ever-curious attention.

"I guess you're right. They are the only thing giving life around here, " agreed Hugo, crossed his legs and nonchalantly placing his left arm on my shoulder. He continued, "Well, besides from you, Victoria."

I sighed and shook my head. What a kiss up! I look up from the garden that once was a blurred picture in my head. I do a once over of the garden and turn to Hugo, glancing at his arm behind me. "Well, aren't you a people-pleaser? My dear Hugo, never would I have expected that from you!" I said this all sarcastically, of course. I laughed at his obviously appalled face. Never have I seen him looked so "offended"; he looked kinda cute in the dark light.

"Oh, shut it, milady. You should always expect me to be a flirt, especially if I'm given great material to practice on." He glanced at me as if expecting another laughable response, but I give him nothing. My gaze kept switching from his face to the blue flowers behind him, and I noticed something that shouldn't have surprised me as much as it did. A single purple butterfly lands on the furthest blue flower away from Hugo and I. The scene reminded me of the conversion we need to have.

Hugo, noticing my drifting eyes, looked behind him and paused. He looked at the butterfly and the flower with such admiration, like the scene itself was going to help him prove his point and further his story he was about to tell me.

"Well, if that isn't a scene setter, then I don't know what is," said Hugo, taking my shaking hand into his. His quick action awoke me from the trance that I was in looking at the butterfly and the flowers, and the contrast to the dark environment surrounding such a love-filled scene. "I guess it's time to tell you why you're here, at the masquerade," Hugo said this with such hesitation that one would think he didn't want to say it or was forced to on the account of someone else.

"I've been waiting all night," I said. " I've always, for years, had this . . . this feeling of being pulled to somewhere or something. I've never known what it was. Until I received the invite to the masquerade tonight." Was it really only hours ago that my life changed? Has time really moved that fast? I kept these racing and confused thought to myself; I was trying not to show my discomfort, but Hugo sensed it, just a bit. I continued.

"I was just sitting there, reading one of my favorite books, when the feeling came on—the pull. It felt like a string, just dragging me along to my destination, not minding what I thought about the matter. I wasn't until I saw the invitation, then the dress and mask, that I connected the dots." Hugo was staring intently at me, fully consuming the information that I was giving him. I appreciated the act; no one ever pays me that much attention in my daily life. It's nice to have, for a change. Before I continued on with my story, I stole a look behind Hugo to look at the butterfly resting on the blue flower. The butterfly was turned toward me as if it was also listening in to my tale of the restless night.

" I figured out that the feeling that I got, was a pull toward someone, and I always got it the day of the masquerade. I don't know why, but by the look on your face, I can't deduce that you know the reason." Hugo moved his arm so that it rested on my cold and tense shoulders. A sign of comfort; a silent motion that proved I could trust him, that no harm will come to me if he had anything to do with it. His other arm, which was rested peacefully in his lap, moved to the side of my face. He traced my jawline as he rested his hand on my head. I felt him tug at something, and it was too late to stop him as his removed my butterfly mask.

" That's better," said Hugo, moving to remove his mask, but before he could do anything, I grabbed his arm, telling him to stop.

"You removed mine, so let me remove yours." He looked at me with pure admiration in his eyes and nodded at me to continue my task. I slowly moved my hands to cup the sides of his face, holding it for a second longer than I need to. After what became a long time, I moved to the string holding his mask to his face. Undoing it, I realized that this was going to be the first time we saw each other faces unmasked. There was a rule at the masquerade that prevented the removal of masks before the masquerade ended. The same thought I was having seemed to appear in Hugo's head as well.

"I already removed yours, it's only fair if you do the same."

I continued.

I removed his mask with the same care he used as I removed mine. I placed his black mask on top of my purple one and when I looked up again, Hugo was closer than he was before.

" I guess you're ready to have this conversation then. I know you've waited long enough." He looked at me like I was the only thing in the dark and macabre garden. I stared at him as I nodded my answer.

He told me everything. Everything to the last detail.