Craze

Some people grew up dreaming about seeing the world but i grew up watching it through a window. The glass was cold beneath my fingertips as I rested my forehead against it. Outside, the morning was alive in ways I had only ever imagined. Children raced down the sidewalk, their laughter carried by the breeze. A woman struggled to keep hold of her wide brimmed hat as the wind teased it from her head, and an elderly man paused to greet everyone who passed him as though he had known them his entire life.

The world beyond the gates always seemed louder than the one I lived in.

I wondered what it felt like to walk without someone deciding where you were allowed to go. To enter a shop simply because something caught your eye. To sit beneath a tree in a park without asking permission first. Those things were ordinary to everyone else but to me, they felt almost mythical.

Our estate was enormous. Acres of perfectly trimmed gardens, marble fountains, and towering hedges surrounded the mansion. Every room was beautiful, every hallway polished until it gleamed, every piece of furniture expensive enough to belong in a museum.

Yet despite all its beauty, It had never truly felt like home. It felt like a cage with prettier walls.

I couldn't remember a time when I had been allowed beyond the gates alone.

As a child, I believed every family lived this way. Grandmother told me the outside world was dangerous, and children who wandered too far from home often regretted it. I believed every word because she was all I had ever known.

When I was old enough to ask why I couldn't attend school like everyone else, tutors simply started arriving at the house.

When I wondered why I never had friends, Grandmother reminded me that solitude built character.

When I asked about my parents the answers always disappeared behind silence. Sometimes she would tell me they traveled frequently. Other times she claimed they were handling important family matters overseas.

Eventually, she stopped answering altogether. For years I convinced myself that was enough until one day it wasn't.

I stared through the iron gates in the distance. They were impossibly tall, their black bars disappearing into flowering vines that had been carefully trained to soften their appearance.

Funny. Even flowers couldn't hide the fact they were still bars.

A little girl skipped past with a bright yellow balloon clutched tightly in her hand. She couldn't have been older than six. She laughed so loudly that even through the thick glass I imagined I could hear her.

I smiled without realizing it. I wondered what her name was,

wondered if she had friends, wondered whether she'd ever looked out of a window wishing she could leave.

Probably not.

The thought made my chest ache in a way I couldn't explain.

Sometimes I imagined walking straight through those gates.

Just once. Just to know what freedom felt like. Just to discover whether the world was truly as frightening as I'd been taught or whether it was simply different.

"Angel."

Grandmother's voice echoed from somewhere behind me.

I straightened immediately.

There was never anger in her voice, yet I had learned long ago not to keep her waiting.

"Yes, Grandma?" I answered, turning away from the window one last time.

The little girl outside disappeared around the corner and so did the smile on my face.

I found my grandmother in the kitchen.

The kitchen was not like the rest of the mansion. It wasn't filled with towering paintings, expensive antiques, or rooms so large they made you feel small. Instead, it smelled of freshly brewed tea, baked bread, and the faint scent of lavender that always followed my grandmother wherever she went.

She sat at the end of the long wooden table, exactly where she always sat.

Grandmother Evelyn was a woman who carried herself with the kind of elegance that age could never take away. She was in her late seventies, but there was still a quiet beauty about her that made people look twice. Her silver hair was always perfectly styled, pinned neatly away from her face, and her posture remained straight despite the years that had passed.

Her features held traces of the woman she must have once been. Sharp cheekbones softened by time. Gentle hazel eyes that seemed to notice everything. Fine lines around her mouth that told stories of years spent smiling, worrying, and keeping secrets. She dressed simply but beautifully, usually in soft colored dresses and pearls that had belonged to her mother.

To everyone else, she probably looked like a graceful elderly woman but I had always noticed the sadness behind her eyes. The way certain questions made her grow quiet and the way she sometimes looked at me as if she was seeing someone else.

A servant stood beside the table, pouring tea into my grandmother's porcelain cup. The moment I entered, the woman glanced toward me and offered a polite smile.

"Miss Angel."

I returned the smile.

"Good morning."

After placing the teapot down, the servant stepped back and bowed slightly.

"Your tea, Madam."

"Thank you," my grandmother replied softly.

The servant bowed once more before leaving the kitchen, closing the door behind her.

I walked toward the table and took the seat across from my grandmother. Between us sat a vase filled with the most beautiful red roses I had ever seen.

My eyes stayed on them longer than I intended.

"They're beautiful," I said quietly.

My grandmother glanced at the flowers.

"They are."

I reached out slightly, careful not to touch them.

"Did Mother like roses?"

The question left my mouth before I could stop it.

Her fingers paused around her teacup and her eyes lowered.

"I don't know why you ask such things," she said softly.

I frowned.

"Because I don't know much about her."

My grandmother looked away.

I wasn't trying to upset her. I never was. I only wanted to know little things. What my mother liked. What made her laugh. Whether she had my smile or my eyes.

Anything.

"You have your studies completed now," she said, ignoring my question. "You should focus on what comes next."

I stared at her.

"Grandma..."

"Angel."

Her voice was gentle, but it carried a warning.

I closed my mouth.

She reached for her tea, taking a slow sip.

"Some things are better left in the past."

It was always that sentence.

I looked down at the roses again.

I wondered what kind of memories could make someone refuse to speak about their own daughter.

My grandmother noticed my expression and sighed.

"Go upstairs for a while."

I blinked.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No."

Her answer came quickly.

"You did nothing wrong, Angel."

But she still wouldn't look at me.

"Please," she added softly. "Just go."

I stood slowly from my chair.

For a moment, I thought the conversation was over. I was already turning toward the door when my grandmother's voice stopped me.

"Angel."

I looked back.

She was still sitting at the table, her hands folded neatly in front of her. There was something different about her expression now.

"We have an event to attend this evening."

I blinked.

"An event?"

"A ball."

The word alone felt unfamiliar.

A ball.

I had read about them in books. Elegant halls filled with music, beautiful gowns, dancing, and people dressed as though they belonged in another world.

I stared at her for a moment, making sure I heard correctly.

"We're going?"

My grandmother gave a small nod.

"Yes."

A smile slowly spread across my face before I could stop it.

"Really?"

I placed a hand against my chest, feeling a strange excitement flutter there.

A ball. I was actually going somewhere. Not just the garden.

Not just the same rooms inside the same house. Somewhere outside, Somewhere filled with people.

My grandmother watched me, but she didn't smile.

Normally, when I was happy, she tried to share in it. Even if her smiles were small, even if they didn't always reach her eyes. But this time she only looked at me. Almost like she was afraid of something.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No," she replied quickly.

I tilted my head slightly, but before I could ask anything else, she looked away.

"You should prepare yourself. We leave this evening."

I nodded, unable to hide my excitement.

"Of course."

The moment I was dismissed, I gathered the sides of my dress in my hands and hurried out of the kitchen.

I tried to walk calmly but the moment I reached the staircase, my restraint disappeared.

I lifted my dress slightly and rushed upstairs, my heart already racing at the thought of opening my closet.

My dresses had been untouched for years. Beautiful gowns that hung neatly in a space I rarely had a reason to visit.

Silks, Laces and Colors I had forgotten I owned. For the first time in what felt like forever, I had somewhere to wear them.

I pushed open the door to my bedroom and immediately crossed the room toward my closet.

The excitement was almost childish, but I didn't care.

Tonight, I wouldn't be staring through a window.

Tonight, I would be part of the world I had only ever watched from a distance.

I opened the closet doors and smiled. I had no idea that the evening I was so eagerly looking forward to would be the night my entire life would begin to change.