Therefore, I Dance

Chapter Five- Dreaded Day

The day I dreaded came. I was sent onto the train and I followed obediently and silently, afraid as I made every move. The ride to Kings Cross was too short for me, and I felt like hiding under the seat until Christmas break was over. But I didn't. Instead I sat, alone and upright, in that seat until the train came to its inevitable stop.

I got off the train and looked for my caretaker, who, now that I was away, helped my father with his business. He was thin and tall and adorned a black set of robes, which offset his greying hair and marble colored eyes. I loved those eyes. They had put me to sleep as a young girl, but once I reached the age of six, I was expected to go to bed and be asleep within the next few minutes on my own. No matter what, I always knew that I would remember his beautiful eyes and polite, but warm smile.

He came to me and held out his hand. I gave him my wand, my sign of giving in. I was not to have a wand in the presence of my father. Never, ever, have a wand, my father told me.

We walked across the street to a small house my father had bought. I walked into the house, went into the living room and stood by the fireplace, but my caretaker didn't follow me into the living room. I was confused at this.

"Jason?" I asked my caretaker.

"Yes?"

"What's the delay?" I asked, wondering why I wasn't trying to stall him.

"I'm getting the powder," he said and he came out holding a golden colored bag with words in a different language written on it. I recognized the language as French and translated 'le mouvement de poudre' into 'movement of powder'.

He opened the bag and put it out towards me. I took a handful and waited until he could conjure a fire, as I was currently wandless.

He conjured a fire and stood back. I walked up to the fire and threw in the powder and waited for it to turn blue before stepping in.

"Turpin Tour," I said in French. It translated to Turpin Tower. My father was of French decent and could be found using his old language in passwords or places.

Immediately, I saw an indescribable rush of places until I saw my father's house, where I stepped out. It took a few seconds for Jason to appear behind me. He walked around me to lead me to the waiting room, where I was to, as you probably guessed, wait.

I sat there alone for what seemed like hours. It probably was hours, because my sense of time was always acute when an event that I was dreading was coming nearer. I was glad for the one thing that was going my way, time.

Finally, he came in the room. I couldn't read his expression. It was purposely blank and unobserving. He never looked at me, just indirectly gave me a signal to follow. I stood up and followed the dark trails up the stairs he was leading me. His deep midnight black robes billowed around him and gave him a ferocious and intimidating look.

I knew where this was leading... to the very top tower, a place I had never been allowed. I had always been stopped at this staircase at every time I came near. It was one of my father's secret places. I never questioned why this place was forbidden, but as I reached the final stair and looked into the room, there was no doubt in my mind why. As my eyes adjusted, I realized that it was a dungeon. It wasn't the kind of dungeon one immediately imagines. It had no bars, no chains, no locks, and no keys. It was simply a dark, dark room of cold steel and pain. It not only brought an outer chill to my skin, but it also gave me a chill inside that would haunt my dreams.

Father pointed to an iron seat and I knew to sit. There were no wasted words. My father thought that words should only be used when actions cannot speak. His actions are what made me hurt most, not his words.

"You see this," he said.

"I do, Father," I replied.

"You will stay here until you are fetched, and then you will be ready to do as I say," he said.

"I am ready to do as you say now," I said.

"You are not," he said and took a few steps toward me.

I said nothing and continued to watch him come toward me. I felt a light spot of pain on my cheek and realized that he had slapped me. It hadn't really hurt me, the slap just gave me more fear.

He turned around and before he shut the door, he lazily brought his wand to the door and uttered the spell to unlock it. He looked at me and I could feel his look through the darkness. I knew that he was challenging me to come out that door without his permission. He knew that I was too timid to try anything.

"And do not argue with me," were his final words.

So I sat there, waiting until I was given permission to come down. I waited there, cold and alone, for six hours, not moving from the spot he had placed me in. I didn't fall asleep. I just sat there and waited in the cold darkness for six hours. Actually, I didn't know how long I had stayed there. It felt like days, but Jason told me it had been only six hours.

Suddenly, Father appeared, in the middle of the room. He hadn't climbed the stairs, he had used the transportation system that was magically installed in the house.

"Come," he said lazily and irratibly.

I walked toward him as he called to be taken to the Formal Room, where my father held meetings and parties to give the illusion of actual goodness. I knew better. There was no goodness in him.

There were servants all around, I saw as we appeared. One came forward silently. He brought me to a chair and I noticed that he wore the usual grey robes that my father required of his servants. He began twisting my hair into a fancy updo I had never had. I was extremely confused.

It didn't take him long to finish my hair, as it was held up with magic. Next, came up the woman who put make-up on my face. She painted my lips and my face. Soon after, another man gave me a dress to put on. It was beautiful. It was a light blue color that could only be plucked from the sky. The dress was strapless, so it revealed my shoulders and my neck. I was given diamond earrings and a necklace that went around my neck perfectly. I was also given a robe to go over the dress that was the same shade of blue. I hated it all.

"You are to meet a possible mari tonight," my father said. 'Mari' meant husband. "There will be a celebration for his sixteenth birthday." I was surprised*. I was only twelve.

"And you," he continued. "Will be the perfect lady. He will be chosing the girl that he thinks will make his best wife. If you are chosen you will quit school and you will be required to marry him," he said. I prayed not the be chosen.