But What If We Lose Our Sanity?

Chapter 1

The overwhelming chaos and noise of the large ballroom made it hard for Magnolia to think. Her head was throbbing as the ground vibrated beneath her feet. The room smelled of alcohol and sweat, the scent unpleasant. Magnolia searched the mob of bodies that swayed to the rhythm of the loud music. Her eyes wavered toward her father, the King. He stood upright and postured, right next to her half sister, Valeri. His face molded an evil smirk as he handed Valeri another glass of distasteful alcohol in replace for her empty one. Magnolia narrowed her eyes on her father as he complimented Valeri on the dress he had chosen for her. She watched as Valeri finished her fifth drink that night before stepping out onto the ballroom floor and beginning to dance ridiculously in front of the King. His amused eyes watched her body move to the beat of the deafening song. Her beige dress flew around her carelessly, her beauty radiating throughout the room. The song ended, a slow-paced one taking its place. The King glanced over Valeri's shoulder and met Magnolia's eyes before walking over to her quickly.

"Enjoy the party, Magnolia. Have a few drinks... dance!" His voice was coarse and strict. Magnolia tensed as he eyed her, the gaze revealing anything but kindness. He stepped away and ushered Valeri over to his side once more. Magnolia grabbed a drink from one of the servant's trays and began to sip it carefully, as if it could be poisonous. The many men and women crowding the room saw nothing out of the ordinary, and Magnolia hated them for it. They didn't know what the King did to her and Valeri. They were blinded by their own wealth and loyalty to ever realize his murderous, corrupted heart. Even if they did, they would never care enough to do anything about it. Magnolia finished her drink before her only friend approached her slowly. Samuel had changed out of his normal T-shirt and black jeans, along with his armor, into a black and gray suit Magnolia didn't know he owned. He winked at her, holding out his hand like a manorized man. Magnolia rolled her eyes before taking it and dancing with him. They danced with his back to the King, her eyes always aware of his position.

"Enjoying the party?" Sam asked, and Magnolia shook her head.

She took a moment to look into his dark brown eyes, "You know I hate these things."

Sam shrugged, his eyes lowering down to her burgundy dress. "You look pretty."

Magnolia followed his gaze to the beautiful dress she was wearing. She watched the bottom of the dress sway as she slow danced with him.
"Thanks, I guess."

Sam lowered his voice, even though the music was too loud to even hear the couple dancing two feet away. "Are you okay?"

Magnolia bit her bottom lip, looking over his shoulder at her father. His eyes met hers and narrowed. She broke the stare, hiding behind Sam. "I'm getting out of here. Soon."

Sam sighed, "Magnolia, each day you wait the harder it's going to be able to escape. Especially now that your father has recruited ten more men."

"I can't stay here, Sam."

"I know. I know. But I worry you will get caught, and get even more hurt than... than usual."

"I have to use the restroom." Magnolia backed away from Sam, walking away from the ballroom as quick as she could. She felt sick, her stomach not at ease. Sam was a realist, and Magnolia hated that he was right. But the reality of staying here forever sickened her. She stared back in the mirror, her perfect reflection looking back at her. Her smooth curls, her perfected makeup, the beautiful dress. She didn't know who she was, even as she stared back into her reflection. She shoved her fists into her forehead, angry for not being able to do anything about her corrupt life. She peeked back into the mirror, into the gloss that covered her blue eyes. Memory flooded her thoughts of last night, of every night:

Slap. A big, thick hand forced itself upon Magnolia's face. Grab. His fingers held onto what remained of her thin nightdress. Rip. His strength thrust her down onto the ground. Crack. His fist made contact against her collarbone. Then her chest. And then her stomach, causing her guts to spill out onto the shiny tiled floors that she had grown to lay upon. Weak and broken, her body sprawled out onto the cold floor. Her eyes would look up one more time, an act of rebellion. As if she was still standing, she felt one last second of confidence before everything went dark.
"Next time you will listen." She heard her father's voice echo in her ears, the sound sending chills down her back. The phrase was repeated, every night, after every day of disobeying.