Poor Broken Annie.
Not quite alive and not quite dead, she waits….
She was so excited. Tonight was the Masque. Annie had been looking forward to it since the moment her invitation arrived by post. Immediately after opening the envelope and skimming the note inside, Annie began to envision her dress… her masque.. the night.
The darkness of the sky that evening was almost tangible. The weight of millions of bright, sparkling stars hanging precariously overhead seemed to be speaking a warning. Alas, no one was listening. No one heard.
The court was full when she arrived, making her entrance even more spectacular. Her red hair aflame around her magnificent masque, she drew their attention in gasps and whispers. She was the one. The beauty. The fire of the room.
Everyone was watching when she was approached by the stranger. The man in the black masque. Every eye was upon them as they danced and twirled throughout the entire evening. No other suitor had a chance. It was just her and him. The strange man who never took off his dark, sparkling masque.
When the unmasking was called, he was nowhere to be seen, but when the music began again, he was there. Sweeping her into his arms, lifting her into the mass of twirling dancers.
They made room for them. They always made room. There was something about the way he danced. The way he held her. They way their dancing demanded that they were the most important beings in the room.
And they watched.
There was never a time when the masque ended. People just slowly drifted away, until the only ones dancing were Annie and the man.
Suddenly , the music began to beat faster. Louder. Their dancing became more intense. Together they moved as one, faster and faster. His arms around her, so strong. So supportive. She needed him now. His arms supported her, moved her where she needed to be. She was his now. Her body, her soul, moved about the room as a marionette on it’s strings. Supported completely and entirely by him.
And with the finale of the music upon them he spun her. Out and out and around she twirled to the tempo of the fading song, coming to a slow and gradual stop.
Breathless, exhalted, Annie turned around to smile at him.
But he was gone.
And now she waits. No longer Annie, she is Broken. Her soul, her heart, her self… lost. Hanging somewhere between life and death. Supported only by the strings he left her on, she hangs in The Balance.
She searches forever. She will wait, forever.