Susie sat cross legged in a wooden chair that creaked and threatened to collapse every time she sat down. It was placed in the corner of her nearly empty room; sitting before the cracked and filthy mirror that hung on the wall. She smiled into those cracks, they made things imperfect which was perfect to her.

In her hands rest a small music box etched with beautiful patterns that seemed to have been carved by the music itself, the lines dipped and swirled and danced like the ballerina that woke when she opened it. Her sister had given her this box as she lay dying in the hospital. "Remember me when you hear this tune and remember these words:" Anna had said, handing the box to little Susie. "We must never let people rule our lives with fear. If you're ever afraid, open this box and remember me. I'll always be there for you."

The promise went unfulfilled, Anna died the next day, the wounds from the accident were too great to survive. Susie had never felt so alone. Her only friend in this world had abandoned her like everyone else. She wasn't alone, not truly, but her father was gone, taken to a mental institution years ago, and her mother was never sober enough to notice that Susie even existed.

Soon, the drugs claimed her mother for the dead. Susie was afraid then, finding one morning that her mother hadn't woken. She curled up in the corner of the room with the music box clutched tightly in her hands and cried. Days went by before they found her, cold and starving in the dark room. Susie had prayed that death would take her too, but the gods weren't so kind.

The officers shipped her off into the mountains to live with her grandfather. They said things would be better there. That she could be happy there. At first, they were right, but that dream quickly disappeared in the darkness of reality. It wasn't long before his colors truly showed. He would come home late at night reeking of alcohol and vomit.

Susie shuddered at the memory. She could still see him stumbling through the doors, screaming at her for the burden she brought him. He would grab her by the arms with a grip that left bruises to decorate her skin. On good nights a bruise was all she got from him, other nights brought worse things; unspeakable things. Things she couldn't quite understand or explain at her age. Each night he would leave her battered and broken.

Last night had been no different. He fell through the door, enraged by the drinks he had consumed. Susie cowered in the corner of the living room, hoping that by some miracle he wouldn't find her tonight.

Wood cracked as he threw a half broken chair against the wall in his drunken fury. "Where are you!" he yelled, looking around the room with lazy eyes that didn't seem to see much. Susie hugged her knees tight, rocking back and forth, repeating her sisters last words in her head.

"I'm not afraid." she whispered to herself.

His eyes focused on the crying girl on the floor. He gave her a long hard glare then turned and walked from the house. He hadn't come back since. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he was gone, possibly never to return and never to lay another hand on her. But she was alone, alone and afraid. Nobody was left to care for her.

She wished so badly that her sister was still here. Anna had been like the mother Susie had never known. The two of them shared a bond like no other, but like everyone else, Anna was gone. All that remained of her beloved sister was the small music box she held in her hands.

The box hinges squealed as she pried open the lid and the tune she had grown to love began to play. Spinning ever so beautifully in front of the small mirror was an old and tattered wooden dancer. The ballerina was beaten and broken yet still danced with such grace as if demanding you to keep dancing even in your darkest hour.

Susie stood up and set the box on her nightstand. Taking a deep breath, she decided then and there that fear would no longer hold her captive. She would leave today, even if her grandfather returned. A life on the streets seemed a much better deal than another night alone in this house or with him.

Laying on the foot of her bed was a baby blue flowy dress with white lace on the cuffs and rim. She picked it up and climbed into it, gazing at herself in the mirror. She felt beautiful in the dress, and felt strong, like nothing could touch her.

Her lips curled into a smile as she waltzed across the empty room to the tune of her music box, singing along to the notes and imagining herself in a great ball gown. In place of the music box, she saw an orchestra that played her song for the world to hear with such energy it forced you to dance.

Where the flickering lamp hung, she envisioned a massive chandelier glittering with crystals as the lights bounced off the glass. Susie twirled under the chandelier like the little ballerina in her music box, feeling the folds of cloth come alive around her, catching air as she spun. She laughed and smiled, feeling so free in the dance.

Soon though, Susie tired and she huffed, collapsing onto the thin blankets that rest on her solid bed. She closed her eyes and listened to the final notes of her song as they slowed and died out, the ballerina freezing in place, waiting for the day she would dance again.

Outside of the door she heard footsteps that creaked with each step on the old wood floor. Her fear unbiddingly returned as the person neared the door. Her grandfather was back to finish what he started last night, or so she thought. Dread twisted her gut as she realized there were two sets of footsteps and two voices that whispered urgently to each other on the other side of the door.

The rusted knob slowly began to turn and the door eased open, revealing the shadows of two men that stood in the threshold. "The old man is gone, nobody was supposed to be here. You promised nobody would be here." The man on the right spat in a hushed voice so that Susie only caught bits of what he said.

"Then get rid of her." The other replied, annoyance dripping from his words.

"Who are we to kill a child?" The first opposed.

"Burglars. Dead children can't share things they weren't supposed to see. We're doing the child a decency. Death is better than the life she lives." That convinced the one that had protested and the men inched forward.

Susie's heart raced as they neared, terrified by their talking of death. She didn't want to die, not anymore. She wanted to live, she wanted to be free. The child backed against the wall clinging to her music box for comfort, looking around frantically for a way to escape.

Her opporotunity came when the men split to either side of the bed. She bolted off the front of the bed and ran out the door. The men cursed, whipping around to chase her. They ran hot on her heals as she sprinted to the stairs. Susie screamed, hoping that despite all odds somebody was listening, but she knew no one cared. She felt fingers wrap around her arm and suddenly she was falling, no, she was flying, watching the stairs and ceiling as she twisted through the air.

The ground came hard and fast, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her eyes rolled back into darkness and she could feel warm liquid soaking the roots of her hair, dyeing the blonde curls a dark crimson.