She twirls in a room of darkness. Her dress is as beautiful as all the jewels in the world and as priceless as a soul. It glitters despite the lack of light, illuminating her sad face. She dances because she has to, not because she wants to. Again she twirls on her toes. Sadly she looks out at the ballroom floor and begins to shed silent tears. The room is not empty. It never was. But it was lifeless. Laying in the shadows the Little Dancing Girl knows what awaits her. The dolls. The people who sit silently; forever frozen in place by death. They rot while she dances, they wither as she cries. The Little Dancing Girl continues to dance in hopes that one day they will open their glazed eyes and see the beauty before them.
