Dance til You Die

In the light bathed room with the old brass chandelier hanging high high above her, she sat alone on the floor, staring sadly into the light that rained green and yellow through the shattered stained glass window. Her dress was tattered, but she still felt it looked right on her. She'd taken it off since that day, but today especially it would have to do. Her hair had been haphasradly combed back into a clip and her cheeks pinched into color. Still she remained nervous. What if he didn't come?

In the shards of glass that reflected her every movement she saw herself for the first time in years. Colorless skin of paper, red rose lips and black gasoline hair hung to her shoulders in dark spirals. Her eyes were as dead as they had been years back and she hadn't gained much weight since then either. The old dance hall hadn't changed at all it seemed, if colder that it used to be.

Rain pattered softly outside the old building, filling the air with echoing drips and soft patters like kitten's footsteps. It used to be a train station, was abandoned to be claimed by her childhood self and his. Neither had names that they remembered, so they began calling each other Black and White. She was White, he was Black, he was a year her senior and won always the games they played. Except when it came to dancing...she shone bright when it came to dancing.

Her memories swarmed warmly back to the time when it was always Spring and they would dance to their imaginary piano. As far as they could remember, they'd both had mothers, and both mothers had played beautiful music on the piano. And so they danced until their feet bled; until they both could no longer breath.

The Spring that had been said to be Endless, ended soon after, much to their dismay. When the 'endless' Spring ended, it became endless Winter, even though it rained constantly and rain became ice. Still White and Black danced, swirling until they became nothing but grey. That Winter, he'd turned 15 he said, which meant she was 14. She'd love him...and then he'd left. The night before his departure he'd told her everything...he remembered his family, they lived not too far away. He'd run away and soon would have to return. He told her to dance and to never stop. The next morning she'd woken up in his arms to find them ridgid, immoble. He'd left her.

That day she'd left the only home she remembered. She traversed out into the city until she found a new dance hall, a fancy building with important looking men entering and beautiful ladies leaving constantly. She stepped gingerly into the hall and asked to dance. They'd looked at her skeptically and took her to an auditorium to see how she danced. She danced as though he were with her, twirling her, lifting her and dipping her. She danced for what must have been hours until she finally stopped.

They let her dance. They gave her a home and food and warmth and friends...but not happiness. Only Black could give her happiness.

Now, years from now, she'd become a dancer...she was nineteen now and last night she'd dreamt of her Black. 'Meet at home.' he'd told her. Here she was. Where was he? Cold tears slid down her cheeks until suddenly she heard footsteps upon the echoing floor. She turned her head and there he was. Black.

He was taller than he used to be, with dark hair to match his eyes and his old tattered black suit. He was even more handsome now that the years had filled out his bony frame and given him form. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw her. His lips formed words that made no sound as she stood, graceful as They had taught her to be.

She ran to him tearfully and they embraced for a long moment. The smell of flowers and warmth filled her senses, though no body warmth came from him. And then they began to dance. The cold seemed not effect him, but cut through her like a knife so that she danced through gritted teeth. He smiled sadly at her. He asked if she'd been well; she had.

After long hours of dancing as they'd used to he smiled at her, twining his fingers into her hair and whispering softly into her ear. 'Beautiful.' he whispered. It broke her. He'd always said that at the end of a dance...when he was ready to go. She clung to him, and sobbed into his shoulder.

'Don't leave me.' she cried, her voice naught but a whisper: dancers were born to dance, not to speak. 'Don't leave me again.' After a long moment she felt him shift and looked up to find his gaze on her. His eyes captivated her until she felt she would disappear into them.

'Come with me.' he said suddenly, breaking the silence that had started at the rain's end. As if on cue, sun burst through the shattered stained-glass windows, casting him into light when he was so used to being in the shadow. He looked at the sun without pain, without feeling the warmth on his skin. How sad he looked. 'Come with me, White.'

She laid her head on his shoulder as they rocked back and forth on tired feet. Gradually, warmth began to fill her, starting from her feet and spreading slowly upwards. When it reached her fingertips she nodded in a trance. Unable to move, she felt his strong arms around her shoulders, turning her to the sun. All weariness flooded away in a cascade. A feeling of lightness came to her and a dull thud sounded behind her. She turned calmly to see a pale broken version of herself lying on the floor, lips blue and eyes teary. The dead lips moved softly, but she turned her back upon them.

White walked in the arms of Black, striding strongly towards the blinding light until at last they were one, and then they were gone.