Not Yet

A piano plays and echoes in the dark halls.

In the middle of the night, a petite form leaves the safety of her room. Little Alba, with her black braids, thin nightgown, and petite feet, follows the enchanting music. In her tiny hands, she wields a brass candle holder which carries her only source of light.

She passes by paintings of old and illuminates their disfigured forms. A weeping man made out of men; a mentally split madman; a queen soaked and dyed red; and a woman surrounded by dead birds, carrying an axe in hand.

Alba arrives at the music room and on her tiptoes, peeks through the keyhole. A grand ball takes place with light-footed dancers and their talented pianist. The ash-gray dancers with feather-like steps mournfully graced the ballroom floor. Their pianist, dressed fully in black, his back to Alba, craftily performs his art.

To little Alba, this was a fairytale scene. So, with curiosity beckoning her, she gently opens the ballroom door. Only slightly did she open the door when the pianist glance behind and caught her. Alba gasps!

The musician's face was nothing more than a skull staring furiously yet never ceases his craft. Alba could only stare when a tall figure from behind closes the ballroom door for her. The little girl turns around and meets her lord of the manor, her father.

"Not yet. It's not your time."

"When?" asked Alba innocently.

"When you've lived a full life, then you will join them."