The Dancer in the Box

There I sat displayed proudly in the shop window. It was said that I was the most beautiful and treasured possession of the jeweller and that he would sell me to only the noblest of men and ladies. Let’s face it, I am worth a fortune. There I stood elegantly on my tip toes wearing the finest silk that was blush pink. My hair tied neatly in a bun. My ballet slippers in the same matching pink satin.

Behind me was a gleaming mirror, that I could gaze upon myself with every graceful turn as I danced to the gentle sweet music that played. Only at night did I lay my head to rest. When the old jeweller closed my lid that allowed me lay down. There I lay in the dark dreaming of morning until I could dance again.

The jewellery box in which I lived was embellished with rubies, emeralds, pearls and diamonds. It was solid mahogany and was lined with red silk. The box was treasure within itself let alone it’s stunning contents. As I lay in the dark box settled into the silk, I admired the diamonds and how they glistened even without light.

I thought how lucky I was to be enriched with such treasures. The only thing that I was missing, was a reflection. How I longed for an owner that would open the box every morning to listen to my sweet tune and watch me dance while choosing a piece to wear, modelling it in the mirror.

Today was that day. Finally, a handsome couple entered the shop and took me home. I was an engagement present from him to her. I was so excited to see where I would be placed and what I will be looking at each day. Although, I am most excited about seeing her-my new owner.

Even though I already had the perfect life, I did tend to get a little bored of the same scenery day in and day out. As I was placed in the same position during my time at the shop, I could only see the street in front of me and my reflection in the mirror. I never even got a glimpse of what the store looked like or what other treasures remained there.

I lay in the dark amongst the fine jewellery, awaiting my next venture. I could hear the laughter of my new owner. How I loved the sound of her laugh. Her and her handsome fiancé were extremely flirtatious towards each other. Oh how they must love each other. Maybe I will be their most treasured heirloom, perhaps they will pass me on to their own children and then their children’s children. I will dance gracefully for them all.

The light flooded into the box as my gorgeous lid opened. I was placed on a dresser in the centre of the bedroom and there she was. Her name was Sophie. And she was everything I imagined her to be. Rosy cheeks, blonde tight curls, blue eyes that twinkled when the light hit them. As I danced, I found that I no longer looked at my own reflection but at hers. There she tried on earrings and admired them in the mirror behind me. I watched her with every turn. I truly loved Sophie already and I would always be there for her, and her for me.

Every morning, we did the same routine. And every morning I felt happier. I felt that we were one person. I could feel her love for Arthur-her fiancé, which meant, I loved him too. Some mornings, I got to see him as he kissed the back of her neck admiring her in my mirror and complimenting the jewellery, that she had chosen to wear on that day. I would blush just as she did. They were the most perfect couple.

One night, as I lay in the red silk of the jewellery box, I could feel Sophie’s excitement, I couldn’t wait to see her in the morning. She has been overly excited the past few days as her and Arthur’s wedding was approaching. Gosh how I couldn’t wait to see my Sophie wearing her bridal gown and veil and of course the beautiful jewels that I will bestow on her for that very special day.

Each morning was better than the next. I danced as gracefully as ever until finally the Big Day had arrived.

She was radiant and glowing, her cheeks as rosy as ever, her eyes twinkling in her total content and happiness. Her veil hung over her shoulders as she applied her red lipstick using my mirror. As I danced, I found I could see in my reflection that my cheeks were getting rosier too. How I would never forget this moment. My Sophie and her beloved were getting married. How I can’t wait for the day to come where she will have her daughter on her knee whilst gazing into my mirror. I will watch them both grow. She will be an amazing mother.

I could feel that she was dreaming of the same when she subtly smiled into her own reflection. She was excited about her future just as I was.

Next a knock came to the bedroom door, she jumped up hurriedly and excitedly to let whoever was knocking come in. In her haste she left my lid open, so I could see and watch the scene. I could watch her all day. 

It was Gerard, the butler. I have seen him so little; I wasn’t sure at first. But there he stood at the doorway. He handed my Sophie an envelope and told her that it was from Arthur. She grabbed it out of his hands and thanked him. She was skipping back to her seat at the dresser in front of me, eagerly ripping the envelope, to see what beautiful words her beloved Arthur had written to her, on the morning of their wedding.

As I watched her read the words silently, I could tell something was wrong. I could feel her mood lowering, as I turned during my dance, I darted my eyes to her direction to gage her expression. What had Arthur written? Her face became less rosy and turned to pale white. Her eyes began to well up in tears. She dropped the letter into my jewellery box before throwing her head into her hands and was sobbing so deeply and agonisingly. I caught a glimpse of the letter with each turn and could only make out three soul destroying words which read ‘I’m not coming.’ The rest was too crumpled for me to make out, but I am sure they were not comforting words given poor Sophies reaction. I felt, I needed to do something. I thought maybe if I danced the best I had ever danced before, it might cheer her up. So, I adjusted my posture to make sure I was standing as tall and gracefully as ever and with each turn, I managed to look as beautiful and as elegant as I could have done. Even though I felt devasted, heartbroken even. But I would do this for my Sophie. She eventually lifted her head from her hands. She stared directly at me for a while. I think it’s the longest she has ever watched me and not my mirror behind me. I could see her face changing. Poor Sophie. I thought she might cry again. Please Sophie don’t cry.

Instead, she screamed the most torturous sound. The sound of both pain and anger. Before I knew it, she had ripped me out of my beloved jewellery box and threw me to the floor. She began tearing my lovely red silk, she smashed my mirror and threw my beautiful jewelled encrusted box aggressively across the room. I watched it smash into the bedroom wall by the window. My jewels scattered across the floor.

I lay there, desperate. I could feel the same agony that she had felt. And now the same anger. How could my Sophie do this to me. I was always there for her; didn’t she know that? I loved her. And I thought that she had loved me. And now she had taken the only thing that I had.

I lay on the floor, broken, in every sense of the word. There I thought of the old jeweller. How I long to be back in his shop dancing to the street in front of me.

Now I will never dance again. 

In this agonising knowledge, I chose to gently close my wet eyes.

‘It hurts when you realise you aren’t as important to someone as you thought you were.’ -Unknown