Introduction

It was 11:30 at night and I was fast asleep in my warm, and comfortable bed when I heard the noises outside my window again. Clatter and bangs of all kinds, screams erupting from each and every direction, cries springing up from the dead silence. All of this both surprising and engulfing the entire town that I live in. The sounds whistled in through my window and I shut my eyes promptly while plugging my ears. I was refusing to believe what my ears so daringly presented to me. This was not happening again I told myself. Not again.
My head shook as the familiar sounds echoed throughout my room. Terror began to form in the back of my throat as the realization of what might be going on outside began to envelope in my head. I tried to push those thoughts out but as the noises got louder the thoughts began to shove their way back in. I couldn’t hide from them. As the cries for help echoed throughout the land, my heart ached for the people that I knew would die tonight. Tears slowly cascaded down my face as I forced myself not to think about the people being killed. Outside that window it was in fact my people who were being harmed, my blood being shed, my people who were crying out for help, and it was my people whose pleas had gone unanswered and I had had about enough of it.  I tore the sheets off my bed and raced out the door and into the hallway, shrieks vibrating from all around, and as I flew around the corner I could almost scream along with them, I could almost feel their pain. I could almost see the infidels who were trespassing on my country's land tonight. This would not happen again I vowed to myself. Smoke was practically rising out my ears as I rounded the last corner which led into the room of the King and Queen or as I like to call them: Mom and Dad.
“Dad!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, bursting open the doors into their room, tears tumbling down my face, and by now about to form a river on the castle floor. Tears of both anger and dread, anger that my parents were not taking action against these madmen, and dread because I had not the power to do so myself. I was gasping for air as I walked in, not caring if I made too much noise, but just trying to get my thoughts out. I did not care what I had to do to make them listen because they would listen this time. They had to. My parents shared a moment of unease and fear amongst themselves before I began my rant. I was ecstatic to see that they had dread in their eyes, they deserved it, I whispered to myself, and I did not care how terrible I sounded, this had gone on long enough,  “Do you not hear those screams outside the window? Do you not hear those cries! Those are the cries of your people yet you sit here in silence and do nothing!” I shouted sobs escaping from my throat in great wails, I held them in as well as I could, not wanting to seem immature or too childlike. I wanted them to see me hold my ground and perhaps then they would realize that I was right. Of course if anyone else in the whole kingdom had said anything like that to my father there would be a death penalty of epic proportions, but I was their child, so I suppose that that gave me some sort of immunity. 
“ Now my dear be rational,” said my mother in a rather trying tone. I detested my mother most of the time. I despised her logic, and I loathed her way of reasoning. She was fake, and that pseudo sort of attitude was going to get us all killed. “We have done all we can for our people” she spoke in calm sort of soothing voice which inflamed me even further, I did not know who this woman was but I was not related to her, this is why I spoke to my father. He may not do what I wish of him, but at least he was real, he was genuine, he was was my best friend.
“Actually mother you have not done one tenth of what you could do! Nay, one hundredth! Do tell me dear mother what you have done?” I spoke, my voice as cold as ice. She looked down upon me as though I had just committed a crime, and I suppose in some way I had. Not while my father was around though. I looked to him and he only gazed at me with sad eyes, we understood each other. He actually loved me, and our people, I could feel it, I could see the sadness in his eyes as our people cried, I could feel his longing to help them, so why did he marry mother? She is nothing like him. Truly. “Father?” I whispered in a defeated tone, I could not compete with his sadness. It was not fair. I could not be angry with him when he looked at me with such melancholy eyes. I loved him very much. Mother glanced over at him with a disapproving look, and sometimes I feel as though if it were up to her I’d have been executed by now for some of the things I’ve said. Though father would never condone any punishment above a grounding for me. That somewhat made me smile in the midst of all this mayhem.
“I understand your viewpoint Alice, however I am the King and I have reasons for doing what it is that I have done, you’re just going to have to trust me.” said my dad in a loving yet stern tone, I could tell that he didn’t appreciate my outburst. Perhaps I misconceived his eyes before for sadness when they were truly disappointment. I wasn’t exactly sure. I nodded at my father with respect, somewhat regretting what I had said to him. I began to walk out of the door with remorse in my footsteps, because I was after all only a princess.
As I walked back to my room I could still hear their screams, but I did my best to tune them out. I didn’t want to think about the destruction that would be imposed upon my town tonight. So when I got to my room I curled up in a ball and tried to think about the beautiful attributes of my town. I wanted to think of its brilliance instead of this night that was so filled with death. I thought about the cobblestone walkways that lined our streets. The alluring colors of the stones that our horse and buggies galloped upon. I tried to think about Mrs. Wilkinson who had the most beautiful garden in all the land. It made her small cottage really seem like something out of a fairytale. I imagined the street fair that I loved to visit, and all the the fun trinkets that people would buy and sell. The antler adornments that Mr. Kite would carve, made from naturally shed deer antlers that he would gather in the woods. Or Madam Williams birdhouses and birdfeeders that she would sculpt from old oak, maple, and alder trees. I loved the journals that Mr. and Mrs. Humpernickle would create out of leather. They would often decorate them with bird feathers or beautifully colored rocks that they would find. Most of all I loved the music boxes. You opened them up to reveal often a ballerina dancing, to the most alluring music. I often dreamed of being a ballerina myself. I found the art to be quite fascinating. The way that they are able balance on their toes while performing such demanding feats astonishes me. Sometimes I would dream of prancing around in a pointe shoes and puffy tutu’s, but I knew that it was impractical. I was a princess and it was not becoming of a future queen to involve herself in such foolishness. Dancing was looked down upon by the people of influence in my country, and I hadn’t the faintest clue as to why, for it was so beautiful. As my mind drifted to thoughts of ballerinas dancing on their tiptoes I was coldly awaken by the sound of cries and screams showering in through the window of my room. Hot tears streamed down my eyes knowing that there was nothing I could do.
I got up off my bed and walked over to my dresser which was large and white with gold trim and flared out edges, as well as three large circular mirrors that hung above it that were golden with white stones encircling the trim. There were nine large drawers that held clothes, boots, ribbons and something a little more dear to my heart. My music box. I opened up the bottom right drawer and carefully pulled it out and placed it on top of my dresser. It was sphere like in shape and was black and gold with flower like designs on the top and sides. As I opened the box, or sphere rather, my wonderful ballerina emerged, alongside it was slow quiet music that enchanted my whole room. I stood up and placed my feet in first position and my arms out in front of me. I began to dance around my room to the music of my box, and what first began as a ballet transformed into every ballroom dance that I had ever secretly learned. As I spun across my room I could feel myself calming down. My shoulders were less tense and my breathing was more steady, and while there was no chance that I would be sleeping at any point tonight dancing still made it bearable.
The screams stopped with the first light of morning, as always.