Curse of the Dancer

The mystery's of life never unfold so delicately, now do they? I aboard this ship with hopes to meet someone to change my atmosphere. I never would've guessed I'd die within a mere few days of my voyage of bliss. However, I did meet this person whom changed my entire life with little conversation. I board this grand ship named The Titanic and adventured from event to event held aboard. The view was so lovely and the sea was quite a sight to witness. It's a vast blue that reached beyond my sight and seemed never ending.

Joining the crowd I see red fabrics dangling from the ceiling and moving as if being forced. I followed the fabric and looked up to see a beautiful dancer escaping her own reality as she created a realm of her own with the movement she bore. Once she reached the top she sat and took a deep breath and smiled. It was quite strange to me, witnessing this beauty then make her way to the floor of the stage. She changed completely and became less delicate with each strut through the crowd. This new found interest within me lead me to follow her quietly throughout her journey here aboard this grand venturing.

I am Ellie Miniks, a reporter for a well known publishing co., I'm here to write history as it unfolds.

After leaving the crowd she rushed down the hall and never looked back once. I hear from outside the room this woman unboxing something that sounds like glass. I question how she got something so fragile aboard the ship, I assume perhaps its wine. Leaving her room door I walk into my room and began my report for the evening. There was very little that has happened, perhaps dinner will be more memorable.

Dressing myself in the finest evening gown, I head to the dinning hall and sit in an unreserved seat. Looking around I notice there is very little security aboard this ship. Perhaps the reason resides within this voyage being invite only. Sadly, I almost had to sneak aboard this ship, now I know it would've been easier than I previously expected. I was thirty seconds from being a reserved choice as a reporter when this opportunity had arrived. I never should've turned down the manager and just slept with the man. I have no reason for dignity when I write such deep truths about the people who are looked up upon in society. Men fancy a woman like suck not at all. So I refuse to conform, I'd rather be least desired.

The doors has just been widely opened stealing my attention from my own mind and thoughts. The woman who danced earlier has walked in pushing a cart with something under a sheet. She takes each step evenly and looks like she's about to sweat her makeup off. I wonder if she will be the one presenting something tonight. I would love to stay, however, I have a prior appointment. The kind that can not be missed.

While enjoying a gentleman's time I head to the deck around 12:30 much before dawn to grab a few more drinks. I over hear a woman mumbling in the corner of the dining hall.

"she must not live. It must die."

she repeated theses words over and over. I decided I would try and comfort the woman and perhaps soothe her mind an bit.

I approached with these words, "are you alright Milady?"

Her gentle response was," that invention at dinner tonight was quite something, bringing a butterfly back to life, wasn't it?" In shock I ask her to elaborate. She then explained. "Yes, well that woman pulled out three jars and unveiled a machine that created energy. She placed a drop from two of the jars upon the creature and jolted it with voltage, is what she said. Lastly she placed the last drop from the third jar and the butterfly flew across the room onto my hair. It had awoken and chosen me. I think she might be a-".

"wait," I said "Perhaps you should get some rest, have you been drinking? Where might your husband be?" I knew she was out of her mind but still I listened to more of this story as I escorted her to her room. She was leaning on me the whole way to her room, I know she must've had something to drink.

Leaving back to my appointment, I drank, partied and much more for hours on end. Dancing in the room and drinking nakedly with this stranger of a man I was at the ease of my lifetime. Quickly it became 4, right before dusk, as I stumbled my way into the dinning to try and sneak some food for a bit of a snack.

I grabbed some bread and began to run back to my room when I hear a rummage in the room down the hall. I saw the dancer flea and run down the way in the direction of her her room with dress in hand. She must've not known she was leaving a trail of blood in her escape. Following the blood to the place of origin I make it to the captains deck. It was completely violated and the same woman from the other night was laying on the floor. Picking up the woman I carry her back to her room and explain everything to her husband. He looked at me wit pure unimpressed and listened very little to the things I said. I know this be true, because his only response was, "My wife had nothing to do with the damage to the ship, it was that devil woman and her sorcery."

Wondering through the halls of the ship I walk around and end up at the door of the dancer. Knocking on her door she opened and spoke with me.

The first thing the dancer said to me on this night was, her name and reason for coming aboard. She confessed that she had a disorder which caused her to have a split personality. She also confided in me her plans for when the captain confronters her in the morning. Her personality disorder is to protect the one heart they share, she had explained. However neither her nore me would've guessed that tomorrow morning would be the last morning aboard the ship.

Heading to my room I type up her grand story, name and motivation behind her life. I titled it Standing Ovation because of her career as a dancer. I thought it was very clever. However the last I heard of her was when the crew men were raging about the fact that we hit an iceberg and the system was completely damaged. They blame not knowing the dangers due to the lack of being able to get notified .They then went on to say it was the curse of the dancer, because the men from the night of her presentation mocked her.

I confronted them, "If that's true then they just need to say sorry."

One man ghastly responded "Perhaps farewell", and continued to hep the people aboard the ship prepare to escape. I looked at the next man very confused then he said.

"I hope you were not close to the dancer, she was preforming while the ship hit the iceberg and fell from the top of her curtains."

I thought to myself that her falling was no mere accident. She wished to be rejoined with her father for many years. However, she feared god would punish her if she committed suicide. So she decided that one day if she could never dance again that she would make her death look like an accident.

Going to her red fabrics I kneel down and close her eyes so she can remain at piece. Pulling out the report that I typed up for her story and all its most fascinating details I stuffed it in an glass jar that she gave me, which also contained the details of her science. Closing the jar I feel a cold metal on the back of my neck and the man that I partied with held a gun to me.

Being shot dead, I and the dancer were robbed and left to rot within the water of the ocean. Still, the story ends with that man freezing to death and that glass jar floating through the waves of never ending. Shall the curse of the dancer live on as a tale of tales, one that has caused a sinking ship and mans flesh to reside without a living soul attached. Do me a favor reader, if you ever find the jar, avenge us both, become our butterfly. Landing on the heads of the ones that see us not, causing their life to have a noticeable chaos. Wed deserve our story to be told, I only wish that I could write it.