Before I could Realize / Sanctuary

Chapter 1 | I Was Unsure

My mother always danced at night. My father's arms were wrapped around her waist. They danced like such dainty swans; they were mesmerizing. It was like nothing else mattered because they were the center of attention. The lights were always out by 8, so they used the light source of the scented candles that mother had gone out and bought. It smelled like fresh, sweet wood being cut.

I had never been outside my whole life, my father would tell me how rotten the world is, and what it can do to you. I was always so curious. Mother had told me "But sometimes, curiosity can kill a person."

My brother would always come home acting weird. He'd smell funny, and wouldn't be able to walk straight. He had just turned 18. Of course, he snuck out of the house out of curiosity. Once he went out, it was like my brother wasn't even my brother to begin with. I was still confused, I didn't like it.

I woke up from my slumber.

My mother walked over to me, she knelt down and rubbed the side of my face, "Don't be like your brother. He's always intoxicated. I wish I could help him but he's blinded by what hurts him most. He lost the game already, and you must succeed."

So, I cried. "I don't know what you mean, mother. Why do you call all of this a 'game'? There's no way you can just restart and live the best life!", I sobbed. My mother smiled, it was such a giddy smile. My mother stood up, "My child, do not cry. It wasn't a choice, it was a demand." I looked up. My mother was always so fragile to me but always confused me with a slight bit of harsh words. "Float like a swan, back straight and good posture. Chin up and never look down. Follow me, little one. I'll show you how it's done." Her voice was sweet but her words were salty, no wonder why everyone around town hated the taste.

I followed her to the study room where the piano was placed in the middle. She sat down and then started to play softly. She told me to sit beside her, so I did. She took my hand and placed it on the piano, she said in my ear, "G, F, E, D, C, B, A", and she sang slowly. She sang with the piano overlapping. "Now play these notes every 2 octaves as I taught you." She smiled. She always smiled. I always wondered, what was so funny?

She turned back to the piano and started playing slowly and in rhythm. I followed every 2 octaves. I missed one, though.  She turned to me and hugged me, I hugged her back. I could smell the sweet shampoo on her soft brown hair. Lavender, the smell I love the most; reminds me of her. Mother slowly got up and floated away. I wished I could be perfect like her. Every single night I prayed for that.

She left me in the study room, so I got up and went on the couch next to the bookshelves. Candles were lit everywhere and the sweet aroma of lavender still floating around the room. I took one of the books from the bookshelf, lied on the couch, and read until my eyes felt heavy. The smell was going away at a slow pace, it was like death at a slow pace. I shut my eyes. I didn't feel anything after a while so I just slept.

Soon after I felt a small shake on my arm. My father. He told me, and I remember this clearly, "Why won't you come to watch us dance? We will teach you the correct way...". I sat up and rubbed my eyes. The book I was reading earlier dropped with a loud thud to the ground. I jumped from the sudden thump. I could now see my father more clearly but, something was off. He had dark red crimson eyes. I jumped back a bit in fear. I always adored my father's glistening green eyes, but now, they seemed red. He left the room and I soon cautiously followed him.

Mom was waiting by the only window we had in the house. One arm folded on the sill and the other holding her heavy mind. She was staring at the pure white snow that had fallen that late at night. I and my brother were never allowed to look out of it. I wondered why she was allowed to. Her eyes darted at father as soon he entered the room. Her eyes full of endearment and...lust. She moved away from the window and started to slowly dance with him. This time, the music was also different. It was dark and eerie. As time passed by, they started to dance faster and faster but in a weird ritual dance. I was quite frightened. That's when I noticed my mother started to cry blood. She stood there with a sad look on her face. Father held her by her waist whilst he wiped the blood away. The sunshine was slowly appearing out of the window, my father looked and walked away. My mother looked at me and started to mouth something. I didn't hear her. She started to make a mad expression. She paused. Then she proceeded to slap me.

"WAKE UP YOU DEMON. I DIDN'T RAISE AN IGNORANT CHILD."

She started to bleed from her eyes again. Blood droplets falling onto the ground. I stumbled back in fear of my mother. She tried wiping the blood from her eyes as the blood smeared all over her face. The composition of her pale white skin and dark crimson blood made her look frightening.

I woke up to soft piano playing, my mother's singing, and the sweet residue of last night's lavender. "Angelica, do not shout while you are sleeping. You might disturb the others." The book I was reading earlier dropped with a loud thud to the ground. What? I thought, Is this not what had happened already?

"Mother, where is father?"

She looked at me and proceeded to give a small melancholic smile. She stopped playing the piano. She got up and slowly walked to the exit door. She stopped before turning the handle. She turned her head around to where I saw her side profile. She started to say,  "Sometimes, things aren't meant to be." She turned her face back to the door and left me in the room. My face turned pale, throat tight. What did she mean by 'Sometimes, things aren't meant to be'? Have I gone crazy or did she? After that, I hadn't seen my father in a while.

During the summer, it was still sort of cold. We lived up north. My mother would tell me as a teenager, she would go on dates with father at this 'tower'. She told me how sad it was to move away from that area. Mother told me we now were living in a place called Norway. Father said he ran away from home just to be with the love of his life, her. That's where they met, and where mother was born and raised as a young girl, France.

They both came from luxurious families. They were always forced to do everything perfect, divine and elegant. They both hated it, to their guts. When my mother was a teenager, she had beautiful, long, golden blonde hair. She had perfect milk-white skin, and sad soft blue eyes. She was in pain. I knew this because I saw the photos, with her family. I could just see it in her eyes. Anyone could if they payed attention.

Everyone had light brown hair and hazel eyes, not a single one had blonde hair or blue eyes; Mother was different. Mother had told me her older sister had tried to cut her hair because she was jealous. Mother then soon realized she had to dye her hair light brown just like everyone else in order not to be 'different'.

Of course, jealousy comes with consequences.

Her sister later died after 2 months due to leukemia.

Everyone called her a demon, a disgrace to the family. She was so heartbroken that her family had thought of her like that. She felt like she had deserved to hurt.
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But, he saved her in any way possible.