Dead Set on Dancing (Three)

“What color is your dress?”

“Did she bring your shoes?”

“What about accessories?”

The questions just kept coming. Since I had said I was going to prom, The Twins and Grace had been bombarding me! Henry the Eighth was not singing, or talking, for that matter. He was grumpy now and concerned. After being forced to tell me about a few escape attempts, he told me in a fatherly way this was a bad idea.

“Henry.” I spoke softly and it turned the girls’ voices off.

“It’s just not safe, Little Bird. What if you get caught, like the others? No telling where they will put you then.”

“But I have to go, don’t you understand?”

Silence. The girls waited all they could but went back to running their mouths about makeup. Good God! I had been buried for nearly a month I had no idea what I looked like anymore. Was I just bones? The thought ran quickly through my mind and I wished I’d paid more attention in biology class.

“Grace?” I blurted out, and she answered just as quickly.

“What’s wrong?”

“What would I look like now?

More silence. This time Grace was holding back. I heard Henry moan something but I couldn’t hear it, and The Twins were so quiet you could hear a pin drop in their casket.

“Grace.”

“Oh, Little Bird, maybe this isn’t a good idea,” was her response, and I almost died again. This had to be bad. I tried to squeeze my eyes shut and play the “I’ve been in the dark so long I can see trick,” but nothing changed. I pictured skin and bones but after what seemed like an eternity of silence from everyone, I convinced myself I was now probably just bones.

DSOD2

DSOD 4

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