The night was calm and filled with a familiar buzz. The streets bustled with people as they traveled quickly down the crowded sidewalks. The tall buildings that towered over the busy streets created a funnel that made the cold wind seem almost a thousand times colder.

But the lights that lit up the darkness caused most to be unbothered by the cold, not to mention the music that played from shops and restaurants that enclosed the space and any place it didn’t reach, laughter and voices filled in the rest. Colors swirled and sweeped down the walls and brick, the clothing the people wore were frilly and dirty but bright with designs and creativity. 

Not a corner of this picturesque spot was gloomy or sad, it was instead bright and cheerful. Despite not having the best things, everyone looked so happy and full of life. Children ran around, throwing balls and playing tag as their mothers watched together and laughed and as their fathers joked with each other and talked.

All of these things, the things that everyone had exposure to in the city, was something she was unable to experience first hand for herself. She was trapped like a firefly in a jar that had no holes. She always had to watch from afar, protected by the safety of the long balcony that connected to her room, and she hated every single second of it.

“Carrie, Mr. Clark is calling for you,” A voice said suddenly from behind her.

She drew her attention away from the group of street dancers that had gathered on the street below to find her personal lady’s maid, Frieda, standing behind her. In her arms she carried a bright red dress that was carefully folded to avoid any formation of wrinkles. 

Frieda was a short, brunette, German immigrant who had decided to work for Carrie’s family as soon as she was able. She was twenty five, making her three years older than Carrie, and Frieda reminded her of this injustice at every single chance she got. She began work for the Clark family at the young age of 12 and since then, has been labeled officially Carrie’s personal lady’s maid and unofficially, her best friend. The two girls grew close as the years went by and were practically inseparable, so much so that Carrie had long since began to think of Frieda as her older sister, and Frieda happily took on this role.

Carrie sighed and walked over to the maid awaiting her, closing the big double doors behind her.

“Frieda, do I really have to go?” she said as she turned around to address the young women.

“Carrie, we both know I cannot disobey Mr. Clark’s direct orders, besides this event can't be all that bad. Who knows, maybe you’ll even have fun.” Frieda said, her accent sounding more thick as she mocked me.

“I disagree. My father always finds the most extravagant ways to make the boredom of my everyday life somehow more boring. And this is a dumb party hosted by some random rich people somewhere in whatever city they come from and they only hosted it because they’re incredibly “important” and want to feel better about themselves. They want to laugh with each other over things they have all accomplished while all at the same time secretly hating each other. 

“And personally I would rather not sit with a bunch of old guys discussing how they’re little “Peggy’s” and “Elizabeth’s” are beautiful and elegant and oh so mature while my father looks at me out of the corner of his eyes with so much scorn because he isn’t able to relate. That his daughter isn’t yet engaged to some rich middle aged man that only wants her for her looks. I’m tired of being judged and I’m tired of my father controlling me.”

Frieda looked at her with no surprise of this sudden outburst and slowly walked toward Carrie, the dress coming unfolded as she lifted it up to start putting it on her.

“Look, I know it’s hard but your father is just trying to look out for you. And trust me Carrie, I know it’s not the best way to go about doing that but believe me, your father truly is trying. Ever since your mother has passed-” Frieda stopped as she started to untie the day dress Carrie currently had on so she could slip the new dress on next.

Then she continued, “Ever since your mother has passed, your father has tried so hard to make it up to you. He’s tried to fill in that role but he just doesn’t fully understand what it is you truly need. Just give him a chance and you’ll see.”

Carrie grumbled and held out her arms as Frieda tightened the corset around her waist, momentarily stopping her breathing.

“I know, I just,” she groaned, hating herself, “I just wish he would stop because this is just miserable. Why can’t he see that?”

Frieda stayed quiet for a few moments, leaving them in complete silence except for the dampened steady sound of the music and laughter from outside, then she finally continued.

“Just, give this party a try. And like I said before, who knows, maybe you will have fun.”

Just at that moment a knock sounded on the ornate wooden door of her room followed by her fathers voice.

“Carrie? We’re ready to leave, are you about done in there?”

Frieda lowered the sparkling red dress so Carrie was able to step into it, then quickly pulled it up and tied the back. 

“Go quickly before your father storms in worried about you,” Frieda said, handing her a red fan and pushing the dress's matching red hat onto her curled blonde hair, then took her arm and led her to the door.

                                          ~~

Just as Carrie had expected, the party (if you could even call it that) was a sleep inducing type of boring. Frieda came along thankfully, but not even she could keep Carrie’s mood up.

She stood silently, her father to her right and Frieda to her left. Her mind had long since began to wander and her focus was no longer in the conversation before her. Instead she started to study the people around her. All the women wore long brightly colored dresses adorned with sequins and jewels. Their beautifully colored hair were knotted and pinned to the tops of their heads and more jewels and diamonds were set elegantly into differing strands.

The men on the other hand wore dark suits made of lush and extravagant fabric. The dark material that made them up seemed to pop right out within the sea of the shimmering dresses.

She was about to turn away, maybe to focus on the conversation she was supposed to be listening to or to discover something new when something caught her attention to her left. She turned just in time to see a set of doors closing, whatever person that was behind them gone before she could react.

“Carrie?” 

She jumped and turned towards Frieda who was staring at her with a look that either said that Carrie looked entirely distracted or that she looked bored out of her mind. Carrie just shook her head then glanced back at the door before turning to her father with a sudden thought.

“Father, Frieda and I are going to go search for the ladies room.” she said quickly, taking Frieda’s arm in hers.

Without saying a word, her father nodded and smiled, then turned back towards the other men who had already continued their conversation.

Ignoring the action, Carrie quickly steered Frieda towards the door, walking casually to not arouse suspicion from the other guests.

“Where is it we are going Carrie?”

Carrie didn’t answer her and instead continued, stopping in front of the door and looked around before pushing one side open.

Cautiously, she poked her inside and looked around then started through the opening, leaving Frieda behind her. She lifted up the hem of her dress as she descended the red and gold carpeted stairs. A short hallway was laid out before her, that abruptly turned left that she assumed went deeper into the building.

“Wait Carrie, we don’t know what’s back there,” Frieda tried reasoning, but Carrie wasn’t listening anymore.

Before she went further, a noise echoed down the hallway and Carrie’s curiosity grew stronger.

The two girls shared a look with one another, and quickly Frieda realized what the other girl was now thinking.

“Go along, I’ll wait here just in case someone comes looking for us. Just please be safe and don't do anything stupid that would get you in trouble.” She sighed, motioning for Carrie to go forward.

“Thank you Frieda,” she smiled, before turning her back on her friend and continuing down the hall. Not knowing that something or someone was awaiting her at the end.