The White Mansion

1
Here was I again, in the mansion made of white.
White walls, floors, furniture, ceiling,
except for my lips. My lips were blood red.
Everyone was there-
friends, family, enemies, old lovers.
Smiling teeth of bone white,
circling each other with ivory limbs.
Yet the storm raged outside and I knew something was coming.
Snow was piling against the windows,
the wind shrieking madly in wild gales.
Bundled in scarves and kid gloves,
they looked at me and smiled their bone smiles.
Stop fretting, they say.
You worry too much.
So much drama over nothing.
No one believed a word I said.
They continued to sip their drinks from white trays, and
glasses of the clearest crystal.
And I, I was alone among them.

2
How long had I been here? A day?
A year? An entire lifetime.
Pushing against the throngs I made
my way down a hallway.
Could they not feel the beasts outside?
Maybe only just miles from the house.
Time was running out and my blood was going cold.
Every glance to the windows afforded whirls of
snowy darkness, with no world beyond.
I stopped.
This was a hallway from my school years,
and instead of classrooms lining the sides
there were window shops.
This was not the white mansion.
This was not real at all.
My heart thudded madly. There was a way out!
It’s only a dream.

3
I pirouetted in the hallway.
My movements were slow and perfect.
It was a dream and I exploited the rules while I wondered-
How do I get out?
It’s a labyrinth in here. There must be a way out.
Yet there was still a sharp edge to time.
Monsters were descending on this place soon,
and I wanted to be gone before this turned into a nightmare
with blood spreading across the white walls.
I spun on my toes and leapt in the air.
People I knew, with blurring faces, strolled arm in arm
down the hallway. Watching me sadly.
The girl who cried wolves; the girl who had lost her mind.
I tried to ignore them, even though their stares hurt the heart of me.
I stopped spinning.
My white dressed shuttering to a stop about my ankles.
I bit back tears.
Why doesn’t anyone believe me? I wanted to scream.
There are monsters coming! They’re right outside!
I dragged myself back to the problem at hand.
This was a dream. I couldn’t leap suspended in the air
in real life. I needed to concentrate on reality.
I tried to think of my warm bed, and the feel of my sheets.
If only I could get back there.

4
I went back into the throng of people.
I looked through their bone smiles and crystal glasses.
Parents, siblings, best friends.
A room full of people who loved me, and no one there to help.
Then a flash of flesh.
An old love. A love that fell apart.
Bare-chested and in faded jeans, I saw the hunch of his sharp
shoulder blades cutting through the crowd.
Gratitude and fear flooded me.
Not him, please not him.
Too much history, too much pain.
Please don’t let him be the way out.
His figure faded.
I turned and saw the storm gathering rage.
I was running out of time.
There are monsters coming! We need to fight! We need to prepare!
I tried one last time. They looked at me as they
would a broken, discarded child.
Pity and indulgence suffused their icy features.
Poor girl, never knows what she’s talking about.
And inside, a little part of me believed them.

5
I ran back down the hallway,
and right where I knew it would be
there was a set of double doors leading outside.
I would prove there were monsters. I would prove I wasn’t crazy.
I was telling the truth and would see the monsters for myself.
I could feel my old lover behind me.
My white socks stepped into the snow and my dress tugged against
me in the wind. I took that first step outside alone.
Impervious to the cold and barefoot, he walked around me
and sat on a jutting piece of brick.
You don’t need to prove anything, he said.
He held out his hand.
It took every ounce of courage I had left to put my hand in his.
It was dry and warm.
I woke up.

6
I shuddered in bed.
Curled against the wall, I could feel my limbs tangled inside the
softness of those familiar sheets.
Your eyes were looking at me, full of worry and love.
I told you about the white mansion and the labyrinth.
I told you about finding my way out, about being trapped for so long,
about leaving everyone behind-
old loves, my family, my friends
and stepping into the snow by myself.
I told you the man I loved before helped me the last step of the way.
You stroked my hair and said, I’m proud of you
and I hope I’m not a part of the problem.

7
I woke up in bed again.
This time I was alone,
and I was really awake.

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