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The air in the tiny apartment was still and chilled. It smelled musty, like opening and old book for the first time in a long time. It was dark except for a small light. A single candle lit the room, illuminating the face of the only occupant of the apartment. Ressing, Nera Ressing. The famed inventor turned recluse after a horrile incident that left her crippled, losing her left arm. She sat on a fadded red couch, her knees to her chest, hugged there with one arm. Her eyes were half closed and her hair fell into her eyes. It was messy and a dark chestnut color. There was a knock at the door. She blinked once. She ignored it hoping it would go away. They knocked again. She closed her eyes and mumbled. Another knock. She groaned and stood up, wobblng slightly she stumbled to the door. Opening it she squinted from the light in the hall way. There was a stout man in the doorway, he held up and flat box tied with a ribbon, and a small envelope was  tucked neatly under the ribbon.

 

"Miss Nera Ressing, I have a package for you. I just need you to sign this and I'll be out of your hair." He handed her the package and held up the signatur slip. She stared down at the package in her arm then looked down at the man. She was using her only arm to hold the package. She looked throughly displeased. She turned and kicked the door closed behind her. The knocking began again. "Miss, I need you to sign." she blocked his voice out and set the package down on the couch and flicked on the lights, snuffing out the candle. Her apartment brightened up and it was a mess. There was gears and scraps of metal piled on the floor and rolls of paper stacked on tables and desks. A small orange kitten hopped up onto the couch, it mewed at her and she pet it gently. It purred and curled up on the cushion. She smiled faintly for a moment. Then she looked back down to the package...

 

Pulling the ribbon she opened it. Inside it was a deep blue ball gown. Strapless, corset top, flared bottom. Whoever sent it knew her tastes. She set it to the side and and opened the envelope.

 

'Dear Nera Ressing,

 

You have been invited to the grand masquerade ball in (wordswordswords). Included is a dress we have picked out for you to wear, if it is unsatasifactory you may send it back and request a new one. Along with this dress you have recieved a mask, and the ticket for entrance to the ballroom. We hope to see you and have a wonderful time.

 

From,

(wordswordswords)'

 

She sighed. She'd have to send it back. She could never show her face there. There was a second letter crammed into the envelope along with the ticket.

 

'Dear Nera,

 

I hope this invitation wasn't that much of a suprise to you. I have admired you for a long time and I must ask for you assistance for something. I have paid for everything for this occasion and I do hope you will show.

 

From, Jerad Mullen'

 

She sighed again. Her mind waged war on itself. If she went people would know of her arm, if she didnt she would never meet this 'Jerad Mullen'. She would wear a mask so they wouldn't see her face, but it's quite easy to tell its her from her chest.

 

"Damnit. I'm going." she mumbled to herself and looked down at the dress.

 

Days passed and the night of the Ball rolled around. Ressing had gone to a neighbor for doing her hair and helping with the dress. Her hair was straightened and then curled at the tips.  Pinned back from her face with a strand pearls that dangled into her hair. The mask was pulled down over her eyes and she was prettied up. But.. here came the hard part. Ressing was a 30 F, and the dress that was sent to her was a B. She had no time to send for a new one, and she wasn't baking down. She squeezed into the dress. A pair of small heels and she was on her way. She made it to the front gate and flashed her ticket and she made her way inside. Looking for any sign of this 'Jerad Mullen'