Closed Doors Cannot Hold Her

It happened in the winter. The mask, her, it all happened in the winter. When I had to leave my life. There was a ball to celebrate the New Year. A ball where everyone wore beautiful clothes made out of silk and satin that rustled as they swept the dance floor, a ball where everyone wore a mask. There were many masks, all different colours of the spectrum, giving the owner the chance to momentarily forget the secrets that clutched at their hearts in the dead of night, making them cry out at the weight of the guilt. There was one mask for every dark secret kept by someone in the room. My father deemed it appropriate to show me to society on this one day – a wealthy husband, a beautiful housewife and a doting daughter. Me. A girl with sleek, straight black hair that cascaded down her shoulders. My shoulders. As I was lead down the stairs by Daddy, I once again sensed that he was scared of something, something he didn’t understand. Something massive.

“Behave today,” Daddy instructed me, avoiding my gaze. I could see his eyes darting from one side to the other, as if he was checking something. Or avoiding someone.
I sternly told her to behave as well. It was a safe place. Locked in my striking mask, there was nowhere safer. My masked safe was impregnable; many a burglar had tried to reveal its contents but had resulted in nothing but failure.

One other thing I remember is that everyone was drinking. The ceiling was covered in crystal chandeliers that were so pretty even the light couldn’t resist dancing on them. There was a boy, a boy with hair as golden as the sun and a mask that was intensely beautiful. He must have had many dark secrets. On the right side the navy mask had crystallised raindrops positioned all over the face, whilst the other was a vivid scarlet, plain and striking. An exquisite safe to hide an exquisite secret. Suddenly he was in front of me, taking my hand and leading the dance. I forgot about the evil hidden in my mask. The music reached a crescendo and we started twirling so fast the world was a blur. Suddenly we stopped moving. He stretched out his hand, a sneaky criminal merely using me to get to what he wanted. I shrank back. The safe door swung open – someone had cracked the code. She came out, tumbling and running. Evil was pouring out of the corners of my mask like smoke pouring out of a fire. A vast, destructive fire that takes pleasure in demolishing lives. The mask was removed and she was out. She took over. I surrendered.

And then it was over. I do not know whether she got bored and silently crawled back into the safe or whether policemen came and returned her to where she belonged. There was no one in sight; I was alone. The chandeliers lay broken on the floor, no more light dancing on their cracked panes. The tables were upturned – there were puddles of punch and desecrated cakes formed little islands in the chaos. I could feel the echo of panic that occurred as she made herself known. On the floor lay two masks. One was his mask, the innocent cause to this destruction. The colour was gradually deteriorating, the red dye merging with the blue until it was impossible to tell where one started and the other ended. The other was my mask, the feathers shredded and the porcelain cracked as if the prisoner had fought their way out of the prison to see the light of day again. I seized it, reinforcing the broken doors and filling the cracks. There was nowhere safer. Satisfied, I smiled. I slowly made my way through the destruction to the door. I turned around and smiled again, brushing my hand through my hair. She was asleep.

End