Last Dance

• Rajany Chumchanthy, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2021

The taciturn noirette held onto her scarlet lace parasol in contrast to her snowy, colourless gown decorated with lilac ruffles. The small parasol gave barely any coverage, soaking the poor lady while the night sky being a shameless crybaby showed no consideration. The people walking by and the moon sent her short glances. They were sneering at her. Despite the humiliation she felt from the English people, she couldn’t head home just yet, not after hearing the news. News that her unknown lover would be moving out of town once the sun decided to come out of hiding.

In the distance, there she heard a lonesome voice singing to the stars. Entranced by his charming voice. She’d fallen in love without even noticing. With his voice drained, soft applause erupted from her hands. He turned. With an effulgent smile, he approached the drenched lady. “What brings you here, love?” Looking at her surroundings, she realised she’d already arrived at the circus that belonged to her lover. The ringleader.

“I was just about to head out to look for you.” Just hearing his cloying voice was enough for her to feel her own heart beating in the depths of her chest like a teenage girl who’d just discovered what love was. He was aiming for the heart with his mellifluous gun. “I wouldn’t want you to become sick in this miserable rainfall. Come have a seat, the circus welcomes you with warm arms once again.”

She placed her gloved hands on his. The faint whispers and warnings of the bone-chilling winds fell upon deaf ears. Following him into the circus, there rest the people shunned from society just like her. “I’m sure you’ve already heard. News spread like wildfire around here, doesn’t it?” She nodded. Suddenly, the slow melodious tunes played by the skeleton orchestra and the seraphic hums of the fallen angel filled her ears. Raising the beautiful lady’s hand towards his lips to which he placed a gentle kiss on. “May I have this dance?”

With a smile, she nodded. With one hand on his shoulder, his hand on her back, and the other two connected with each other, they commenced their dance. As the music died out, he pressed his lips on hers, sending her to a world where only the two of them insisted in...

As a finishing touch, he drove a golden, trenchant dagger into her back.

Red roses blooming on her white gown.

“You belong in the circus, my dear.”