Sputtering spattering rain clicked heavily on the stained glass. Outside the storm raged on, the chaos spinning out of control. The dark heavy clouds drifting menacingly in the sky, they hit the large castle with all their rage. As wild as it was outside, the calm placid inside was just the opposite. Inside, the dresses flowed, the masks hiding the identity of the souls. No words were spoken, but sitting in the corner, away from the crowd, sat a woman. Covering her face was a  black mask with large feathers covering the top, a small piece of silver, designed to be an intricate ornament hung above the nose. Her grey eyes pierced through, scanning the crowd. Sitting alone, no-one noticed her. No-one knew her secret, no-one knew she wasn’t royal or rich. No-one knew she was a simple pheasant. Her heart had swelled when she found a mask lying on the road, dropped out of the carriage passing through town. But now that she was here, in the castle, among the rich, she knew how out of place she was. Her harmonious dress swayed elegantly when she walked, the colors dipped into the mind. Her hair was pulled tightly back. She felt so alone in the crowd, at this moment, at her home, her family was joining together, playing games, basking in each other’s company. She scowled at herself for missing out, for coming to this masquerade. At first she loved the image of herself, for once she was clean, elegant, beautiful. She now forced herself to get up and find someone to dance with. as she walked toward the mass of spinning bodies, she felt even more alone. She could feel eyes watching her, if they found out who she was, she would be executed. She didn’t know why she was here. It was a stupid radical idea that came to her in a moments notice. She hated herself now. She saw people turning their heads as she walked past them. She heard their quiet whispers. She knew that they felt she didn’t belong. She herself felt like she didn’t belong. Slowly she continued her way through the ballroom. Good I’ve made it through she thought to herself as her hands, which were covered in white gloves, turned the handle to get outside. She needed the fresh air. A blast of air rushed into the doors as soon as the handle turned. She hurried outside and closed the doors behind her, she didn’t want more attention brought to her. The air whipped around her face and undid her hair. The mask was torn off by the violent winds. Her first reaction was shut her eyes, keep them protected, but she forced open. She walked to the end of the balcony, her balance was being thrown off by the savage bursts of air. All around her was blackness but she could hear the earth being torn apart by the sky. She reached out and found the railing, the cold wet stone chilled her hand through the glove. Then what this simple woman was known for, following her one second thoughts, she leaned over the rail. Her body tumbled over, into the night the woman was lost. All that remained, was the mask that had lay against the wall, the one that had been ripped off by the savage winds.