Running Out of Time

Chapter One

Part I - Running Out of Moonlight

A/N: Above is the cover (originally for a separate book, which has now been squashed into one part).

I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling in the naïve hope that my mother might walk in and see how miserable I actually was, sit down next to me on the bed, ask me what was wrong, and when I would tell her, she would gasp and cry and tell me that she loved me and would never force me to do something that I didn't want to do.

Of course, none of that happened. Instead, my mother's footsteps stopped right outside my door, and with a sharp rap, she ordered me up and moving. After all, the drive down to Boston would take a while, and my mother was all for good first impressions.

To my mother, spending my entire school year in a boarding school in Boston, far away from my hometown of Myrefall, Vermont and my old friends, was not enough time in Boston. No—I'd have to spend the three months of my remaining freedom at the Victoria Bergen School of Dance at their summer dance program. My mother wanted me to enroll there, obviously, so what better way to sneak into their teachers' good graces than by spending a whole three months under their noses?

The truth was, I didn't even want to dance professionally. My parents were the ones who pushed me to keep getting better and better, and I would be lying if I said that it didn't work; I had been trained from childhood to be an elite dancer, and an elite dancer I was. But that didn't mean that I enjoyed the hours of sweat inside the studio or the applause of the audience after a number well performed. I had been trying to muster up the courage during the entire four months in which my mother announced the program at the dinner table as a splendid opportunity for me, to the moment in which I was turning in the video auditions to the program, to the moment I was stepping into the car with my dance bag and my luggage, ready to be whisked away for three months, to tell my mother that I didn't actually want to go. But as moments slipped by, aborted attempts to speak to my mother alone passed, I found myself standing at the brink of what felt like a cliff, and now my mother was gleefully shoving me down, unknowing of my unwillingness to explore.

My mother turned the key in the engine, and the car roared to life. She smiled at me in the mirror.

"Look happier, Willow! You're going to Boston to dance at the Victoria Bergen School of Dance!" She beamed, and I merely looked at her.

"Don't worry about us. We'll be fine. We'll all be here when you come back." She smiled, misunderstanding my somber look to be early-onset homesickness. I pressed my lips together and forced them to smile, and I leaned my head against the car window as we pulled out of the driveway of my humble house and headed out of the neighborhood, making our way towards the highway. Little did I know, the next time I'd see the house, everything would be different.

After a couple of hours of driving, we pulled up to the Victoria Bergen School of Dance. It was a fancy and posh-looking building. The gates that guarded it and the elaborate statues and garden made it seem like a fancy private school, even more fancy than the boarding school I went to during the year. I glanced around my surroundings. Surely, Castlebay Academy of the Arts wouldn't be too far from here. I didn't recognize the section of Boston I was in, but I was sure after some wandering, I'd be able to map out the area.

I already missed Myrefall. I hadn't been able to spend a lot of time there, since my mother had sent me to Castlebay every year ever since 6th grade. I missed the quietness of it. Out here, in the city, everything seemed to be alive and moving and everyone seemed to have a place to be. There definitely was a certain charm to bustling cities, but my home was in the more laid back of places.

My mother parked in the vast parking lot, and we marched up to the parted gates and into the lobby. I stared around idly at the plush chamber as my mother barked information at the lady at the front desk, checking me in. After a few moments, the lady handed me my schedule, two keys to my dorm, a student ID, and a map of the school.