Skeleton Dance

Give it Time

Lucille had only three boxes to unpack.

Three boxes.

That's all I have left from my old life, Lucille thought staring at the boxes. Everything else was different. The smell, the look, even to the sound. Her step moms soft, bitter voice and her Dads quiet tones of speaking. They looked at her as if she would break any moment.

Or at least they used to. Now they looked at her like she was crazy.

In rage she tore the sheets of the bed. Dust, airborne, filled the space. She ignored her eyes watering and tossed the old fabric to the corner of the room. Her throat scratchy as she reached for one of the boxes labeled, BEDDING.

Tearing open the box she reached for the lemon yellow heap of fabric. Pulling it out she let the smell of home fill her senses. I'm not crazy, she thought. She pulled the fabric on the mattress at each of the corners. I'm not crazy, she repeated.

She pulled another piece of fabric out of the box, this one bigger. Throwing it on the bed and spreading it out, she finally stopped. Gripping the fabric and balling it in fist she said to no one, "I'm not crazy.''

She sighed and plopped herself down on the bed. "Maybe I am crazy. Talking to myself,'' she waved her hand in the air, "and emotional rollercoaster out nowhere, seeing things.'' She stopped. Maybe she wasn't crazy.

Lucille eyes the closet. The door slightly open, almost like it was inviting her in. Slowly she pushed herself off the bed. Carefully she approached the door, shadows moving over the wood made a chill run through her blood.

Running her hand over the cold handle she waited. Whether she was hesitating from fear, or denying anything was in there at all, it didn't matter. She swung the door open, hearing the wood slam into the wall next to it.

She stoop agape. Nothing was in there. Only a bunch of old dresses that had fallen on the floor. Lucille stood there frozen. Her hand in a fist over her heart. Nothing was there.

Anger swept through her eyes as she slammed the door. The frame shook from the force.

Definitely crazy.

... ... ... ... ...

Ana Clara looked at her husband, he mirrored her worried look. The silence was thick enough to suffocate the tension, which was building up quickly. The only sound was the repetitive scratch as the fork hit the plate across from her.

She looked up, wincing from the sound and took in the girl's face. It was cold and had a hard mask on. The only thing that betrayed any emotion were her eyes. The stormy purple that clouded her iris showed suffocating amounts of pain and hurt, it was hard to look into them.

Her husband cleared his throat and looked at they're child they had known for so long, yet felt like a stranger, "Were going to do some cleaning tomorrow.''

Jakub pushed his wild mane of blond hair out of his eyes. Furrowing his eyebrows he stared at the ceiling looking uncomfortable.

"Lucy,'' I said trying to ease into conversation, "is dinner alright?''

Lucille hummed an unreadable answer. Which could either be taken as a yes or a no, depending on who you were.

Jakub had taken it as a no, as Ana Clara had taken it as a yes. They both shot looks at each other, which only made them more confused.

Almost as if he had read his wife's mind he straightened up,"I'm sorry, with old age I just can't hear that well anymore,'' he said gently, "could you repeat what you said. And please be a bit louder.''

Lucille pursed her lips together in annoyance and a hint of bitterness, "I'm really tired, may I be excused.'' The young girl stared at the two adults, almost as if she was challenging them to say no.

Ana Clara met her gaze with as much power, as if she was about to accept. She stared at the girl in front of her. Searching her eyes, until she was reminded of the emotion hiding in them. The woman slacked back and softened her gaze, once again reminding herself that this was a child who had just lost everything.

"Yes,'' Ana Clara said softly,"You may.''

Lucille got up and left the room quickly. Leaving Ana Clara and Jakub at their own expense. For a moment they looked at each other. Jakub took his wife's hand and kissed the back of it, "Give her time my love," he hummed, "she's going to need it.''

... ... ... ... ...

Outside the dark sky was littered with stars. Streaks of red and blue scratched the dark horizon, marking the grave of the sun.

Lucille slowly walked up to the window. The moonlight shining softly on her face. She leaned on the wood, which creaked under the new weight. Crickets could be heard outside as Lucille stared up at the stars.

Mother would've loved the view, Lucille thought. She could almost form the words her mother would say to her in her mind. Her sweet voice in her head, the american accent thick and strong. Mother would say, 'My Lucy, look at the stars tonight. Aren't they absolutely magnificent?'.

Lucille sighed and imagined that scene. Her with her mother. The two back together. Her mother's raspberry scent and soft sweaters she loved to steal. Her warm, violet eyes, almost identical to her own. A matching set, Lucille thought.

Now here she was with her father and his new wife.

Lucille sighed, resting on her elbows. She focused her attention on a star, it twinkled like it was winking at her. Whispering, make a wish. Closing her eyes she formed her wish in her head. It was about to leave her lips and be carried by her breath, when she stopped.

The feeling of someone watching her creeped up her guts and the back of her mind. The quietness of the house have an unsettling ring to her ears.

Slowly she turned around. A gust of wind that had strayed in from outside sent a shiver down her back. Lucille held her breath. In front of her was a skeleton, that was looking back at her. Lucille started back. Her eyes drinking up what she was looking at.

I'm not crazy, she thought gleefully.
Then she frowned and all the happiness drained and the reality of the situation hit her. There was a skeleton in her room.

There was a skeleton in her room.