{𝘉𝘖𝘖𝘒 𝘛𝘞𝘖 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘓𝘌𝘚𝘚 𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘓𝘖𝘎𝘠}
The perfect picture of elegance. It's all Violet Amory's known - the foundation of the image she must preserve. For her, for them.
Raised in a distinguished family and moulded to bear mo...
Ballet was home. It once felt like the very fibre that made up my bones and now, it's a distant memory. A feeling I miss and a whisper I chase.
My breathing shallows as I step onto the vinyl floor, one pointe shoe after another in the darkness of the ballroom that encases me; black walls and black floors.
It's been long. Far too long and I'm not exactly sure what pulled me here today, after all these years.
A glimpse over my shoulder assures me nobody's watching so I take in the expanse, remembering this room as clear as day. No semblance of light is apparent asides from the small stream peeking through the heavy curtains, slightly agape from the corner.
I use the streak of sunlight that runs across the dark floor as a guide, allowing it to lead me until I feel the weightlessness sink in. As I walk, I become more fluid until I reach the middle and I urge myself to let go, just for this one moment.
Let go, Violet. Let it take you to the sea, my little bluebird.
Slowly, I lift onto the pointe of my shoes. I let my body ascend, my hand curving above my head as if I'm being straightened by a rope above me. A puppet on a delicate string.
It's been years since I stepped into this material and slipped on my pointe shoes. Even longer since my feet have met the floor of this ballroom or my eyes have gazed over it. I thought I'd forced myself to forget the feeling. But when I break my stillness and become water, become grace as I spin, dipping and reaching and curling, I realise how foolish I could be.
I'd never forget my sanctuary and I let it overcome my every sense as it takes me away. Away from Amory Manor and the hurt that lingers. Away, away, away, away until I'm a brush of wind atop an undisturbed sea. I'm weightless and I do not rule the water as I walk over it, I work in tandem with it's sway and it's wind. The sea and I become one.
I lift into a leap across the dark floor. Straight legs and an even straighter spine as I fly, landing on the ground weightlessly enough to not cause a single ripple in the waves.
I move across the room and for a moment, I am free. I'm anyone but me. I'm beautiful when I dance.
I'm not Violet. The girl I've always wanted to flee faraway from. I'm not bruised and I'm not a victim nor am I a survivor. I'm not aware of all that happens to me and what it all means but know there's no out regardless.
Dull, isn't it? Drab?
That's my point. I'm not her. Not in this moment when ballet's far too beautiful to be tainted by the girl working through its motions. The dullness drifts for just this moment where I'm beautiful.
If someone was to ask me why I loved dance once upon a time, if I were to answer truthfully, that's what I'd say. It takes away everything that's awfully me and replaces it with beauty.
My quick movements now slow as I sway back and forth, chest heaving from how long it's been. Back curled, my arm up and my leg extended behind me.
I break position and curl up within myself, slightly. A lurking silence settles over the ballroom now.
I gather myself and slip out of the ballroom before anybody can spot me, my feet patting against the empty twisting hallways. Through the Great Room and past the foyer, and up the grand staircase to get to my room.
I pass the dismal paintings on the wall and rush. Past room after room, dodging Ruth who holds a tray and makes a move to ask me if I'm well. I keep moving. I weave through this endless manor until I can lock myself up and hide.
And when I get to my room, it's largeness deters me, especially in this moment so I open the doors to my armoire and close myself up inside.
The hideaway I've loved since I was a little kid.
A tantrum and I'd run to this armoire and refuse to come out. An argument with my brothers and my way of escape would be this small space, where absolutely nobody can come in and penetrate my little bubble.
When I was young, I'd imagine the armoire was the same feeling as a hug. Safe. This was the only spot I found so I kept it as mine, when I needed to feel the weight of the air around me. As if it's arms are wrapping around me.
I don't think I've ever felt an emotion as strong as I feel loneliness.
I curl up and ensure that I don't knock my arms on anything so the hurt doesn't heighten. I let the tiny space hug me until I am composed.
I remember the feeling of walking on water and I salvage it, embed it into my bones so I can use it as an anchor. I remind myself of the beauty that lies under and silently wish I could see it all day.
I keep walking because it's all I am permitted to do.
a/n
for an insight.
A M O R Y M A N O R
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how'd you like the first chapter? i'm nervous but excited.
to all those who were here before i unpublished, i've completely changed and rewritten the next chapters. this one was pretty much the same. hope you like it from here on out!
