Write in the Middle

A Murder of Crows As I stepped outside of the serene, pastel pink parlor, a wave of sounds, people chatting, glasses clinking, and a pianist plunking away at the ivory keys, crashed down, almost knocking me to my feet. I pushed through the hallways, crowded with some familiar faces, others strangers.

“Gwendolyn!” I yelled, trying to find my 10-year-old sister, the only one who can possibly save me from my boredom during another one of my mother’s parties. She was just two years younger then I, and we have always been very close. “Gwen?” I spotted my brother Oliver, flirting with the pretty girl playing the piano. He looked quite dapper, dressed in his Sunday best, a brown coat and a paisley tie. He was pretty handsome, with his neatly trimmed midnight black hair and eyes that looked like two perfect robins eggs.

The pianist seemed to like his company.

My eyes are a vibrant green and my hair a dusted blonde. I looked very different from the rest of my family, who all have black hair. That’s always puzzled me. I looked down at my purple dress. I was not fond of dresses, or bows, or jewels, or anything girly for that matter. I liked climbing, running barefoot through the grass, doing summersaults down hills, but my mother had different ideas of turning me into a proper lady. I had to cook, sew, wear frills, and always have impeccable posture. I turned away from the sitting room and dashed to another hallway. Strangely, unlike the rest of my house, this hallway was completely dark and empty.

“Gwen?” My voice rang out, and ricocheted off the walls, hidden by blackness. I slowly walked down the hallway, taking steady breathes, although is was hard to breathe in this corset mother had tied so tightly around me. I was always the bravest child. I’d jump off a cliff if I were dared to. This was different though. I was scared. Soon, my steps become quicker, along with my breaths.

Before I know it, I’m running down the endless hallway. Suddenly, I fall and trip over something. I feel around the dusty floor to see what I stumbled across. I feel something soft, that almost feels like skin, then staggered breaths… that aren’t mine. I shriek, followed by another scream that again isn’t mine. I crawl backwards in alarm.

“Who…who are you?” No reply, just more breathing. I stumble across a matchbox, pull out a match. I swipe it across the side, but nothing happens. “Come on!” I said impatiently, swiping the match over and over again. Finally, an orange flame jumped up, flickering and dancing, guiding me in the black hallway. I desperately shine it all around me, looking for the mysterious person, and starting to wonder if it was just an illusion my fear.

Then, I see a face. “Gwen?” She was sitting completely still, eyes wide and shaking with pure terror. “Gwen, oh Gwen, what’s the matter?” Suddenly, Gwen darted out of the hallway. “What are you doing?” I screamed as I ran after her. She pushed though everyone in the party knocking over a waiter and spilling someone’s glass of wine all over her cream colored dress, staining it blood red. She ran and ran until she was out the door. I was about to follow her as just mother stepped in from of me.

“Ivy Jane Crowe! Look at what a mess you’ve made!”

“But Mother I--“ 34