Dollhouse

Escaping The World

My mother has told me this story over and over. My great great great (and probably a couple hundred more greats) grandmother was one of few survivors from The Broken Sky. The others were swept away or tossed off their paths by the horrible Warden. Over the years, we have learned that preforming our dances in front it, remaining emotionless, with no movement besides the choppy flow of our dances. The Warden stays happy and eventually closes the sky. We don't know what sorcery it does, but each time it opens the lid, we are blinded, horrifying, but preform our little ritual. No one knows why, and I have often wondered what would happen if we didn't. Would the Warden be angry? My mother has told me that the Warden is big and ugly, nothing like our shining skin and symmetrical faces. I have not yet seen a Warden. My mother tells me I will any day now.

Mother was the one who taught me how to dance. I now know several dances, but my favorite by far is the Dance of Autumn. We glide across the floor, crossing each other's paths like leaves being whipped around in the wind. We wilt as the flowers, soar as the birds, shimmer as the sun, flow as the clouds. We end by crumpling to the ground, as a leaf would after the long and tiresome journey through the air. I have never seen any of those things, and the leaves on our trees never wilt or fall off. They have stayed emerald-green for as long as I can remember, and so have the flowers. It is eternally night, and only when the Warden comes do we see light beyond the streetlight glare. It is horrifying. The world is horrifying. We dance for peace, in our safe heaven away from the world.