Dancing in the Dark

Chapter 2 : Spotlight

Hazel smiled and tucked the note into her dress. She made her way to the door and unlocked it. There stood Henry and Neal, looking annoyed at her slow approach to the door. Henry peered about the room and snapped at her,

"Nathaniel said you were excellent."

Hazel looked away, unable to accept the "compliment."

Neal ran his green eyes over her and whispered, "Why can't you be excellent with me? Huh?" Hazel scowled and ripped her arm away from his ever-present hand.

Neal slapped her across the face, sending her staggering back.

Henry checked the room and left without another word, not even sparing a glance over his shoulder at his violent and cruel son.

Hazel backed into a wall, Neal heading toward her with angry steps.

She felt the rough wall underneath her fingers, pricking at her back.

Neal pressed against her and breathed down her neck,

"You took her," he whispered, and slammed his mouth against hers.

Hazel gasped from the force and Neal ran his hands roughly under her dress.

"Please," the broken words spilled from her mouth, but Neal paid no attention. He laughed and kissed her neck, "Come on ballerina," he murmured, and grabbed her by her shoulders.

Hazel screamed and kicked, but she was no match for Neal.

"Stop!" she screamed, she clawed at his hair, but that just made him angrier.

Hazel's screams were heard down the hall and throughout the alleys.

Not a simple soul in the world answered her pleas.

Not the butcher with a mustache or the rich lady with pearls. Not the carriage driver downstairs or the mother who tucked her daughter into bed.

The chimney sweeper looked up to wipe the sweat from his brow and continued his work.

            By the time Neal left, Hazel was curled up in a ball, sobbing. Her throat burned from the endless screams, her eyes sore from crying. Her body shook in violent tremors, leaving Hazel a hopeless leaf that had been stepped upon and cracked, left to be blow away with the wind. She drew herself together and buttoned her dress. She smoothed out the crinkles in her shirt and stood by the window, arms hugging her raw torso. She wondered what Nathaniel had been thinking about, moments before, standing in the same spot as she only moments before, an unlit cigar dangling between his fingers. Hazel stared at the moon in the sky, a perfect sliver, a white jewel that decorated the neck of the dark abyss. Hazel's gaze then shifted to the stars and watched them wink at her. They too were beautiful decorations, but the dark night kept drowning their aura. She clenched her fist against the cold glass surface and watched Neal go outside to smoke a cigar.

            The next morning, Hazel was shook away by Henry.

His beady eyes met hers and he growled,

"Get up. We are to perform in two hours."

Hazel slid from the bed, well aware of Henry's gaze settling on the back of her neck.

"Do I have time to bathe?" she asked, and he flicked his wrist to check the time.

"Make it quick," Henry snapped, and sat down on the bed, making it creak.

Hazel rushed to the bathroom, closing the door behind her and flicking the lock. Hazel dragged the bucket of water that the maids had prepared. Quickly, she dropped her dress. She took the clean sponge from the sink counter and started to scrub. Hazel examined herself in the mirror. The mirror was beautiful, with an ebony frame and small beads engraved inside the wood. Her reflection stared back at her hauntingly. She shuddered, dully noting that she smelled like Neal's cologne. She dunked her head under the water, holding her breath. She opened her eyes and stared at her feet. They were pale and when the ripples of the water ran over them, it reminded her of fish scales reflecting the light. After bathing, Hazel wrung out her hair and used the nearby towel to dry herself.