My hips and feet move to the rhythm, my body whirling effortlessly across the floor. My legs move back and forth like they have a mind of their own. I had practiced this dance countless times. My hands hold the broad shoulders of my partner, a man with dashing hair and beautiful blue eyes. I look around the candle-lit ballroom, watching the other women twirl in unison. I smile. They dance as one, and now I am finally apart of it. It is like a dream— perfect man, perfect dress, perfect dance. But then, the music starts to pick up, the violinists quickly moving their bows to a falsetto tempo. I don’t remember this part. We start to move faster, and I hastily try to keep up. The dance starts to become even more unfamiliar, and I start to panic. My partner gives me a concerned look. ‘Oh God, I’m probably embarrassing him,’ I think. I try to focus on the people around me, attempting to mimic their moves but soon stumble and trip on my own feet. I am flying toward the ground, the ballroom becoming a blur of colors. The music halts. I look up to find an empty room, dim light shining through the slits of the closed windows. I don’t bother to pick myself up. Tonight will be the Solstice Dance, another dance that I won’t be attending. But, this time, the reason I’m not going because it of my mother’s refusal. It’s because, tonight, I’ll be running away.