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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #1419765
Dance is Forbidden in a world where a dancer lives. UNFINISHED!
"Silent, but deadly." they whispered.

Yes, I could hear them.

"The spark that set off the time bomb."

         I could feel the sides of my mouth twitch upward. That was definitely me.
They were describing me, but what did they have planned?
         
         All I did was dance. All I did was enjoy myself. How was I to know it
would cause an uproar? I didn't know those people. They were not of any
importance to me. I didn't even invite them. Yet I was the one who caused
all of the excitement. Blame falls on my shoulders.

"Scandalous!"

         I Rolled my eyes. I'm right here. They were talking as if I was not
within earshot. These people were going to determine my fate? No way.

"It was wrong, but she meant no harm."

         Finally! Someone has the sense to defend me. I can't even begin to
imagine the ridiculous comments that will be said about him behind his back.
Defending the accused? There will be trouble there. I could feel it.

         The man who defended me was young. He looked tall, even when sitting. His raven hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail that ended at his midback. The dark, tan color of his skin made his dark brown eyes even darker than they should be.They were almost black. He obviously was too young to understand what he was getting himself into.

"You don't have a say in this, Rai. You are here to observe, not to give an
opinion."

         Rai frowned, his handsome features wrinkling as he did so. I sighed. The only one who will defend me is not allowed to speak his mind. Where does that
put me?

"We need to review the events that led up to this incident."

         I shook my head this time. The memories of the day flooded my mind as I recalled the event that caused such a tremendous uproar.

         

         The morning came with sound of my alarm; a knock on my door. I awoke with a start. My dreams were haunting. They had an impact on my conscience as well as my subconscience. I threw back my covers, the deep purple sheets floating back onto my bed in waves. My nurse entered the room.

         "Pardon me, Nivea." she started, "You slept too late. There are preparations to attend to." The plump little woman in her short, white gown glowed. Her short, curly, graying hair was tightly fitted into a bun at the base of her neck giving her already tight features more edge. Her beady golden eyes shown with a unique brilliance. Her appearance was often intimidating, but her character was far
from it. I loved everything about her.

         "I'm not allowed to sleep in on my birthday?" I teased, smiling as she ventured  farther into my room. I slipped out of my nightgown, not the slitest bit self-
conscious in front of my nurse. Clothes had been layed out for me on a plush
purple chair that I was fond of. I slipped into the comfortable black silk pants.
The slits that climbed up the sides went up to midthigh, leaving little to the
imagination. The periwinkle blue top was made of a tight, cotton-like fabric that
molded to my form.

         "Gianna! Such an interesting outfit you picked out." I commented, stepping in front of the mirror that hung over my closet door. I knew well that I had a face and body that any other woman would die for. My olive skin glistened in the light, naturally smooth and radiant. My flowing golden blonde hair complimented my blue eyes and fell in soft, gentle waves down my curvy, toned body, ending at mid-back.

         Gianna smiled warmly. "It suits you. I thought you might like something
comfortable on your special day." She busied herself with making my bed as she finished. "I know how little you care for fancy dress."

         I nodded, scrunching my nose. I was not overly fond of dressing up. The
thought of such an enjoyable day being ruined by uncomfortable clothing made me
angry. Such clothing was not nearly as appealing as it is made out to be.

         
         I smiled at my reflection, the pearly white teeth of my reflected self
sparkled back at me, improving my mood. I saw Gianna take in my expression from
across the room.

         "I hope you are not thinking of doing what I think you are." she warned, picking up my nightgown and hanging it over her arm. "Just because the clothes are comfortable does not mean that they were intended to be for that."

          I pouted. "Whatever do you mean, Gianna?" I wasn't very good at feigning innocence. Gianna frowned instantly. It was forbidden and I knew that. "I won't let you down." I added.

         Gianna's eyes narrowed but she did not pursue the subject any further. I was grateful that she did not. It wasn't easy to lie to my nurse. She was just too
sweet.

         Gianna sighed and turned to exit the room. "I won't say a word about it."
Her hand rested on the brass door handle. "But i won't be too happy when the time
comes."

         I stared at the door. Gianna's figure still a faint outline on my retinas.
I could feel the guilt well up inside me. I hadn't even done it yet and I was
already guilty. Amazing how one person can instill such feelings in me.



         Later that day I met with my parents in the meeting hall. The room was
always too big for my taste and the lucid design upon the wall gave the room
an extra shimmer. It was hard enough to get used to the lighting. The room
itself, being large, had way to many bright lights. Coupled with the shining
designs, my head would spin even before i entered the room.

         My mother and father sat in the beige leather loveseat in the
center of the room. I took my place in the armchair at their right. Time
for a discussion. I took in their expressions, pleased to see that they
were relaxed. Hopefully their words would be the same.

         "I trust you are well?" asked my father, ever the formal minister.
He sat in a suit of black, a ruffled white shirt beneath. His once-handsome
features were withered with age and his graying brown hair was smoothed
back. His eyes mirrored my own. The same vibrant blue that I saw in the mirror
every morning stared back at me, questioning my being.

         "I'm fine, father." I replied, just as formal as he. "The preparations
are going well, I assume."

         "All the guests shall arrive around five, my dear." My mother chimed in.
Her blonde hair was the same as mine. The brown eyes were not. They were surronded by lines and beneath those two loving eyes rested dark circles. She wasn't much for sleep. Her slim figure was complimented the smooth lavendar dress that just barely brushed along the floor.

         I sighed. "Just how many guests did you invite?"

         My father looked startled, but he answered quickly. "There will be several. The exact number I cannot give you, but if I had to guess, I would say around two hundred and fifty, perhaps?"

         I groaned. "I didn't want this to be a big event." I had wanted a small
family party. That was all. My parents always went overboard with occasions like
this.

         My mother frowned, creating even more lines than her face had previously bore. "It's your eighteenth birthday, Nivea." she responded skeptically. "I would've thought a young woman would enjoy such a large grouping."

         I shook my head. "I won't even know any of them. I don't talk to people.
It's just not who I am."

         "Nivea, I'm worried about you." my mother started nervously. "You don't have very many friends. I wish..." I sighed heavily.

         "Mother, please." I groaned. "Please understand that I am living the way
I wish to live. There's nothing wrong with choosing to live the way I do. I'm
happy." I assured her.

         It was my mother's turn to sigh. She didn't continue to pursue the
subject. She was already aware of the fact that she wouldn't get anywhere.

         It was at this time that I chose to stand and take my leave. "I shall
see you later then." I said as I turned to exit the room.

         "Nivea." my father's voice rang in the meeting hall, halting my leave.
"Don't do what I know you want to do." It was a warning. The second one I had
gotten today. I knew I should heed such warnings. My mind knew I should heed
the warnings, but then again, I never really listened to my mind.
© Copyright 2008 Juno Alazka (cupcakes23 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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