I love him, I think, looking into his dark eyes. They assure me, confident and certain that I will be safe with him. I glance down at his hand, which is interlocked with mine, promising that he will always be there for me, to protect and care for me. But it also means that I will never be able to get away.

He leads me down the hallway, the walls full of old portraits of people I do not know, paint peeling off at the edges. The house-no, mansion- is dreary, no light shines through the many windows because of the navy curtains covering them. The walls are painted black, as black as the eyes that he stares back at me with, grinning in a way that makes me weary. I love him, right? Or maybe it was loved him, instead, though I cannot think of the tense right now, as I am fretting over the current situation. Where exactly is he taking me?

He suddenly turns to me, letting go of my hand and ending our brisk walk down the hall. His face looks furious, a stark contrast from the smile he was previously wearing, “I saw you with him, Daphne. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice that? Do you understand the heartbreak you put me through?”

I frown and stare back at him, trying to recall the man he was mentioning, “Are you talking about Matthew? Matthew Gardner, my dance partner?”

“I see the way you look at him. You say he is only your partner, but I know that you want more,” he says, creeping closer towards me. “Remember when I first met you, that night at your first show? I watched you perform, and came to find you in your dressing room. I told you I could help you become a star, and coached you for years. And this is how you repay me? By falling in love with him? A man you have only known for a few months!”

I wrap my arms around myself in discomfort, “Alexander, you know that I love-”

“Silence!” he yells at me, reaching for my hand and pulling me along again, “I don’t want to hear you speak.”

How dare he? I love him, I’ve told him before, and he forces me to tell him every day! I try yanking my hand away from his grasp, but he is far too strong, and I scream out in frustration, “Let go of me! You’re hurting my hand!”

He ignores me and we continue down the endless hallway, and I reflect back on my day and what led me here. I remember receiving a letter from him, saying that he wanted me to visit him to practice the songs for my next performance. Once I arrived, he whisked me away to this dark hall, smiling pleasantly, but his grin had an edge to it that frightened me. Snapping back to reality, I see that he finally found the room he was looking for. We stand in front of the large, wooden door, with a lock next to the handle that was as large as my head. 

Alexander pulls out a black, metal key from his pant pocket and unlocks the door before pulling the handle and dragging me inside with him. Immediately as I step in, I am blinded by darkness, unable to see, and I tell this to him. He squeezes my hand tightly in response before letting go, and suddenly, there is light once more. A small candle on the wall is lit, which is not enough to engulf the entire room in light, but is better than no light at all. The room contains a small bed in the center, which seems to be the only piece of furniture in the room. On it is a white blanket, a lavender quilt, and two pillows that do not look soft in the slightest. The purple wallpaper appears old and worn down, tearing at the edge between the wall and the floor. This room looks nothing like the other lavish rooms in Alexander’s home. There are no portraits, or self-portraits, which surprise me since Alexander is such a pompous and selfish man.

He turns towards me, away from the candle, and says, “Since you have been so disobedient and headstrong as of late, I have decided you need to be well supervised. So, you will be staying here until you learn how to behave as a proper lover should.”

I was about to argue with him over that insult, but I pause, comprehending what he told me.

Obviously, this was not a vocal lesson today, and he did not want to go over my upcoming performance. No, he asked me to visit so he could punish me. I stand, staring back at him, and then I move backwards towards the door, reaching for the handle-

Alexander yanks my hand away and drags me to the bed. I pull against him, and I plead, “Please, Alexander, please, let go of me…what have I done? You cannot keep me here, please!”

He ignores this, throwing me onto the bed, and while I flounder around for a moment, he watches me, “You will stay here, and think. The door only locks from the outside, and only I have the key. I will ask my cousin who lives here with me to bring your meals, since I cannot stand the sight of you right now, Daphne.” He comes closer to me, bending his face against my ear and whispers, “And you may scream all you like, but no one will hear a word. Not in here.”

He slowly moves away, walks towards the door, hand on the handle, but stops. Alexander glances at the candle near the door, stretches his arm, and presses his fingers around the flame, putting out the only light source in the room, thrusting me into pitch-black darkness. I hear the door slam shut as he leaves, and a loud locking sound shortly after.

I wrap my arms around myself, and wonder how I could possibly love such a man. Or, perhaps, loved such a man, since locking me into a room certainly makes me feel the opposite of affection for him. I lie back on the uncomfortable bed and close my eyes. No one will look for me, I know. Even if my fame has grown, I am still not enough of a celebrity to have search parties after me, and my parents passed away long ago. I do not have many friends, since I dedicate my time to Alexander and our lessons. Such an evil man, if he ever comes near me again...I don't know what I'll do! He deserves every insult in the world, I think, as a tear trails down my cheek. How dare he gain my trust and trick me, doing this. I cry myself to sleep.

Time passes by, and I wake due to the click of the door softly shutting. I sit up carefully, recalling how Alexander said his cousin would be bringing my meals. I can hear his footsteps as he ambles over to me, and a scuffle as though he was about to trip, most likely due to the room being so dark.

“Hello, um, I am Alexander’s cousin. He told me to bring you this.”

He has a very soft voice, kind, and completely different from Alexander’s, which is dark and low.

“I cannot see,” I say. “Please, bring it here.”

He lightly touches my hand, and I startle. He has smooth hands, and they almost remind me of someone, but I cannot place whom. He passes over a cup, and murmurs, “Soup.”

I wrap my hands around the bowl, feeling the hot steam in the air, “Thank you.” His hand is still on mine, even though I am able to hold the soup properly now. He hesitantly lets go, and backs away, “Goodbye, then.” He leaves.

I bring the bowl to my lips and drink the broth, and wonder where I have heard his voice before.

That gentle voice becomes my only company when he visits to bring my meals. We talk about many topics and bond over how our shared love of the arts. He is a performer, like me, and also a dancer. He never tells me his name, though, and I never have the courage to ask. I feel that if I learn his name, I will begin to hope that he will help me out of this room, or return my feelings for him that have just formed. I wonder why he never asks for my name, but I secretly wish that he shares the same reasons as I. Today he comes in earlier than expected, and I smile at him, even if he cannot see it. “Daphne,” he says, standing where I believe the door to be. “I wish to see your face, please, allow me to light a match.”

My heart speeds up at the thought of seeing him, but also in the anticipation of seeing light again, “Yes, yes, please do so. There is a match near the door, can you find it?”

My question is answered when his match is set aflame and suddenly, light floods into the room. I blink, my eyes not used to the brightness since it has been dark for so long. I open one eye, and then the other, looking down at my hands. I tilt my head up, gradually, and set my gaze to his shoes and move my vision upwards along his body until I finally meet brown eyes staring back at me. I feel myself go still for a moment before I stutter, “M-Matthew?” I climb out of the bed, my arms outstretched and he meets me halfway, pulling me in for an embrace. He kisses my head several times, and then leans his forehead against my shoulder, “Daphne, what are you doing here? The dancers and I were looking for you, you were missing for weeks, and you were the blind woman the entire time?”

I slightly tug away from him, “Blind woman?”

His face clouds for a moment, and his kind, brown eyes turn darker, “That man tricked me. Oh, I’m going to…” he trails off, and the anger leaves his face. “Remember when I told you I was living with my cousin? Just until I make enough money performing to get my own home? My cousin is Alexander, I knew he was your vocal teacher, but I had no idea you were here…He told me to bring food and company to the blind woman that lives here, to compensate for not paying him anything while I stayed in his home. He said that you used to be his lover, but you became ill and went insane, and to lock you inside every time I leave you, just in case.  But I…I have come to grow fond of you Daphne, without even realizing who you were. I have always felt this way, as your partner, before meeting you again like this.”

My eyes widen at his confession, “I feel the same for you, Matthew! I could not have been with you when I  was your partner because I was blinded by Alexander’s love for me that I began to believe that I was in love with him. He was obsessed with me when I was his student, and he locked me in here because he thought I wanted to be with you. I guess he was right all long!” I grin at this, but my smile slips into a more serious look, “Matthew, if you truly love me, please help me escape Alexander and this room.”

He fully pulls back from me this time, and extends his hand, “Alexander is away with a student now, discussing the pay for his last session. We can leave without him noticing. Come with me, I can take you home.”

I put my hand in his and lace our fingers together. I feel my eyes watering at the thought of home. He uses his other hand to wipe the tears from my cheeks, and then grabs the door handle, pulling it open. He leads me outside, away from the shadows left inside the room.