• I remember the day well. It was the coldest night in early November. I was sitting in a limousine with five other people who seemed to have received the same Victorian-written letter as I (I guess whoever sent these invites probably put names into a fishbowl and chose at random because we are so very different). The letter had an address none of us knew here in Massachusetts and there was not a name on it either. The driver seemed to know where we were heading, though (although, he was rather odd by wearing outdated clothing and I mean very outdated).

    We were deep within the woods, with the smell of an even colder wind desperately waiting to come through, and with no sign of civilization. Secluded much? I think so. The rest of the group, here in the limo, was jolly and drunk. It was a hilarious sight to see, actually. None of them seemed to have a care in the world. I turned back to look out the window, the moon was bright, yet depressing and a soft, mysterious snow begun to fall. I looked farther into the woods; it was dark and disturbingly unwelcoming. It felt like it did not want us there, as if, we did not belong. Almost whispering, turn back now. As I squinted my eyes to focus a little past what I could see, I had seen two big bright yellow eyes of such an elegant creature, the wolf. He almost had an evil look that he gave, somewhat of an unnerving look. He too, almost saying, turn back now.

    Well, I turned back to the warm and welcoming party going on inside the limo as a glass of hard vodka was shoved into my face. I smiled and turned it down. Then, we came to an abrupt stop. Before us were black, mysterious Victorian gates. They were beautiful, yet at the same time dark. The driver entered the gates and about fifty feet we came to a stop. The driver got out and opened the door. We all stumbled out, the majority drunk and really were stumbling. One kept looking back kinda paranoid, another was laughing joking around, tripping over his own feet, and a woman was yelling and screaming like no one could hear her, and the rest were more relaxed and calm.

    In front of us, was a huge dark, mythical manor (almost something coming out of the 17th century), and I guess the owner or maybe the butler was walking down the marble steps. He was in his late 30’s, no expression on his face whatsoever, and his voice was monotone. All he said was “follow me” and we did. He was intimidating. No one, not once looked back.

    We followed the creepy man through the Grand Entrance and it somewhat felt like we went back in time. Hanging from the ceiling was a huge, beautiful chandelier, probably from the late 17th century, early 18th century, overall it was gorgeous. The manor itself was probably a Victorian home, or at least the theme. To our right was the Ballroom. Inside the Ballroom was an elegant glossed over wooden floor, tables on the sides of the room, almost overlooking the windows, the band set-up area was to the far back of the room upon the wooden stage. The curtains on the windows matched those of the tablecloths, deep purple and the center of each table was an estimated two-maybe three dozen red roses. To the left, was the parlor room, there were chairs along the walls and a table between every two chairs. A fire place was on the far back wall and it was lit, giving the room a warm, welcoming feel to it. A door down from the parlor was the dining room. It was elegant. Almost like formal dinners were meant for that room. The table and chairs looked to be about an estimated $100,000, which to me was a little far extreme, but hey, it is just my thoughts on it. Right in front of us, was the Grand Staircase and a red velvet carpet was perfectly snug to each step, and walking down the steps was the owner. He was six foot two, soft, brown hair, deep green eyes, about early twenties, wearing maroon pajama pants, and a maroon robe that went to his knees trimmed in gold, and matching house slippers. “Honored guests, I want to personally welcome you to my home,” he said softly. “Please, let me introduce myself… I am Alexander Oliver Watkins, call me Alex for short.” “I know you,” one of the guests said. “And you are…?” Alex questioned looking the older looking man up and down raising an eyebrow and a slight, yet hidden smirk. “I am Joseph Sanders, a reporter,” he said pulling out a yellow tethered pad and a chewed purple pen(kinda gross looking, actually). “Ahh… I see now,” Alex said, with almost a pleased sort of look, and yet, relaxed. “Then, who am I, really? What do I do?” “You are from a royal bloodline, yet refuse to take throne. You earn your money by being president and CEO of a very highly praised corporation,” the reporter said prancing around like he owned the place(honestly I did not trust the man, he seemed shady). “Yes,” Alex said. My mouth dropped. Royalty? Then, why ask us to come to his home? “But tonight is just the beginning…” he said winking at me and smiling as he walking down the remaining steps. “Besides, I need to assign some rooms.”

    Joseph Sanders, a snobbish reporter, red hair, and lean, a bit of a beer gut, mid-30s, arrogant, 6 foot, and green evil, shifty-like eyes. As a reporter, I rather held him in suspicion. Then, there was Clara Raines, a politician. She was getting into her mid-40s, black hair, blue eyes, 5 foot 3 and very shady. On top of that, she was not aging too gracefully, and she was way beyond shady. Paul Anderson, a bartender, who spent most of his time drunk instead of sober. He was mid to late 20’s, brown hair, brown eyes, 5 foot 9, kind, funny, but held in a bit too much pain (you could see it in his eyes). Chris Sterling a physical trainer, who was physically fit, but it was because he worked out everyday. You could say working out was his religion, because he very highly devoted to it. He was muscular, 6 foot, mid-20’s, blonde hair, brown eyes, and very stuck up (then again, he trained celebrities). Isaiah Wood, a radio disk jockey or DJ Mrock, as he was well-known for. Early 30’s, 5 foot 8, brown hair, blue eyes, toned body, energetic, loved to party and married. Finally, there is myself, Bianca Leigh, I am a novelist. I am 5 foot 4, early 20’s, brown hair with caramel highlights, blue eyes, slim/slender, reserved and quiet. As a writer, I stayed to myself observed others around me.

    After assigning the rooms, we headed off to bed. Some had to help others up the stairs in fear of hurting themselves. As I walked up the stairs, I passed Alexander, err, Alex. Our eyes met and he smiled. I kept walking not sure of what to do. I looked back, in hopes of seeing the butler, but he had disappeared. I walked up another flight of stairs and gently bumped into Paul. “I’m sorry,” I said apologetically. He smiled and nodded. We entered a long, dark corridor and the feeling that something or someone was going to pop out and grab us, went through both of our minds. Paul and I looked at each other and back down the corridor, turns out we shared the same floor. He looked at me and said, “Ladies first.” I looked at him and thought he was crazy. “No, after you,” I said sternly, giving him a hard glare. He went ahead, flashlight in hand, walking slowly, and I shortly behind him. He found his room and mine was two doors farther down from his on the opposite side. You’d think by how dark the halls were, that there would be lights, but no there wasn’t.

    I put the key into the doorknob and turned it as fast as I could. I was shocked at how roomy it was and how elegant. Words were merely too weak to describe the beauty that it held. The bed was bigger than a king-size, it had to have been. The bathroom, oh my…, now, that was a woman’s dream come true. It had a Jacuzzi tub, a huge walk in shower, the sinks were a very nice size, too. Everything in the bathroom was, you can say, marble. I went back into the bedroom and glanced at the walls and furniture. They had elegant cravings. They seemed to be about Victorian era, I would guess, but don’t put my word on it.

    My luggage was on the trunk, or hope chest, in front of the bed. I opened my suitcase and took out a set of red silk pajamas and matching robe. I also took out my hygiene kit and went to take a shower.

    After my shower, I got my laptop and set it up on the desk that was over-looking the window. The moon was shining bright and a light snow was falling. I opened the laptop and opened a file that consisted of my newest novel I was writing. I stare at the screen for the longest time, before my thought process started to kick in. I typed about twenty pages and had to take a break because I started to get tunnel vision, which necessarily is not too good. I stood up, stretched, put on my robe, and exited my room.

    I walked down the dark creepy corridor and arrived at the flight of stairs. I looked around and noticed a pale, flickering light was shining through the Ballroom. Of course, my curiosity got the best of me and I had to immediately investigate the situation at hand.

    I entered the Ballroom and was extremely shocked at how enormous and beautiful it was. To my surprise, no one was here, but it didn’t explain the flickering light. I left it alone and started to dance around with my eyes closed, imagining a beautiful Masquerade Ball. It was about five minutes into it, when I felt a pair of hands join mine, I opened my eyes and stopped abruptly. It was Alex and he was smiling. “Alex? I’m sorry,” I said backing up. “Don’t be. You’re a graceful dancer, very beautiful,” he whispered softly into my ear. “Is that your candle there?” I asked curiously and pointing to the left. He nodded and smiled. “Care to join me for a dance?” he said smiling. I nodded and we danced and shortly after, feeling the effects of being tired, we sat down on the stage and rested.

    “So, tell me about yourself, Bianca,” Alex said curiously. “Well,” I said shifting to become more comfortable, “I just got out of a long relationship. He found another girl and when he walked away, it felt like love was walking away, too,” I said looking away, to hide the tears that were beginning to form. “Love doesn’t walk away,” he said brushing a piece of my hair behind my ear. “People do.” “Yeah, but the hurt stays,” I said brushing away the tears and looking at him with red eyes. “Think of it as a broken bone,” he said. “A broken heart heals with time, as does a broken bone.” “Yeah, but a broken heart hurts worse than a broken bone,” I said. “Touché,” he said smiling, causing me to smile. “Do you still love him?” he asked curiously. “No, I can’t. It’s impossible to love him after the pain he’s put my heart through,” I said drying what was left of my tears. I looked at Alex and kinda felt bad. I mean, he didn’t mean any harm by asking the questions. He was just inquiring about me, but it hurt just by remembering it.

    I got up to walk away and he gently grabbed my hand, and I turned towards him. He looked deep into my blue eyes and I looked into his. He pulled me close into him and we begun to dance and this time it was all across the Ballroom. We stopped in about the center, he put his hands gently on my neck and pulled me into a kiss. I stopped in the middle of the kiss, pulled away, and ran out and up the stairs to my room. Last I seen him, he was standing in the middle of the Ballroom… alone.

    I arrived on the floor I was staying on and I seen Paul pacing up and down the hall between my room and his. “Paul?” I asked curiously. He turned around looking a bit disturbed. “Where were you? I have something to ask you,” he said anxiously. “I was in the kitchen. My apologies. What do you need?” I lied, but I didn’t want him to know what happened because I wasn’t sure I can believe it myself. “What time do we need to be up in the morning and where’s your room?” he asked looking down the hall. “Not sure what time, but I can show you my room,” I said walking towards it. I opened it and turned to look at him. “Well, goodnight,” I said shutting my door and locking it. I leaned up against the door and slid down. I wasn’t sure what to think or do. I mean, I kissed Alex and barely know him. This is entirely not like me to do such a thing. I got up, walked to my bed, pulled down the covers, crawled into it, and fell asleep.