Masked Magic
Please excuse the next few posts. I’m realigning things. Going Forward the Escape Zone will be an independent newsletter.
“Who put this here?” I asked. The square, garment sized box was hard to miss, and I assumed its method of delivery was too.
“Was on the porch when I got home,” A commercial came on, and my roommate Trish shifted her gaze from the television screen. “Are you going to open it? Her voice ended with a high-pitched tone implying a question.
The tissue paper crinkled as I unwrapped the inside, the sound drawing Trish away from her show. I unfolded it; a confection in blues and purples, the material light and voluminous with vines depicted in silver embroidery. An envelop dropped on the bed as I stood up holding the dress up to myself. Courtney, my second roommate Courtney picked it up from the floor, and I snatched it away.
It was an invitation an annual ball held by my family’s oldest friends; the reason I wanted to get as far from my hometown as possible for university. I slid a finger across the envelope’s seams, and unfolded a thick piece of black parchment paper.
“The Callson Family formally invites you to the annual Halloween Benefit. Please dress our theme of the world of magic and witchcraft.” They were powerful beyond their wealth; a matriarch descended from the first witches, a patriarch from the first warlocks. Their power kept in check, except for the one night of the year. My family was lower on the town’s societal food chain, our abilities limited to one person from each generation. Supposedly, that was me, but at eighteen I hadn’t shown any sign of them, and my parents allowed me to leave town for college.
“Are you going to try it on?” Courtney asked.
“Yes,” Picking it up was her cue to leave.
I pulled the dress up over my hips, and slipped my arms into the sleeves. It fit me like a glove; I sighed allowing myself a few moments of girlish glee as I turned around the room, the skirts turning from the purple, and pink of sunset to a deep blue of a night sky. The style reminded me of a mix between a fairy out of a children’s story and a Greek goddess. I stopped in front of the television, blocking Trish’s view, and twirled around.
“Your skin is glowing,” Courtney observed. I held my arms out in front of me, and my skin was sparkling. Trish was walking by the front door, when the bell rang. She opened the door to be greeted by the UPS. “I’m only to deliver to Caroline Michaels,” he said.
I passed the envelope to Courtney, who slit it open and skimmed the message, as I gathered my skirt and sat on the sofa. I pulled the silver ribbon with a flourish. “The perfect accessory,” she read. “It’s signed M, do we know who M is?” she asked.
M was Marcus, the eldest son of the Callson family. When I was a child, I ran after him and his friends. They’d tease me, taunt me by pulling my pigtails. He took every opportunity to make me disappear once he got his powers. I’d find myself in a box under my mother’s bed. A bookstore on the other end of town. As his power strengthened, I’d myself turning my bike into cardboard boxes at the end of someone’s driveway. “An old friend from home, come to taunt me,” I said, throwing a look at Courtney.
I drew the mask out, holding it away from me so I could look at it. The colours in the dress were woven into the mask as well. A black background with splashes of blue, and greens. The tiniest diamonds I ever saw outlined the eyeholes, and more of the silver ribbon hanging from the sides, that tied in the back.
“Well now you have to go. It’s a waste of a good outfit not to,” Trish commented. Courtney reached for her cell phone preparing to snap a picture.
“Please don’t. No social media before I decide to go.” I say, despite knowing I would attend, as certain as the fact the sun rises in the east.
“You should know how beautiful you look,” Courtney handed me her phone, and I looked at the photo, barely believing it was me. That I could look that beautiful, gave me confidence to attend.