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And here she came, in over-sized clothes, a vanilla-flavoured cigarette in her mouth. The fake moustache she glued above her lips was the exact colour of her short, self-barbered hair. In a chair, she placed a life-size rag doll with long dark locks curling over its shoulders. Her suit and the Burberry clothing on the doll reflected quite a wealthy family, but apparently not a happy one since there was a tear painted upon the doll's cheek.
A hesitant applaud and surprised eyes welcomed the actress back on stage. The audience wasn't sure about the meaning behind her costume and the rag doll.
She saw the questions in their eyes, wondering how her long, silky hair had disappeared.
Her husband, who also happened to be the propman, stared with an open mouth at his wife. According to the script, there was indeed a solo performance planned for her, but she had taken out the wrong costume. In fact, he had no idea why she was wearing his best suit, nor where the doll came from.
He wanted to call her back, but decided against it. After all, she had changed parts of the script before, to wonderful outcome. Curious, he sat back, watched her every move and listened very carefully.
For a few minutes, she analysed the audience, moved her eyes from corner to corner, then focused on the doll she had placed right in front of her. The spectators were glued to their seats and apart from the occasional blink, not one single person moved.
She sighed, took some steps back and took a radio from behind the curtains. Again, she took a look at the audience, but also swiftly turned her head to the right, where she got a glimpse of her husband watching her from backstage. He smiled at her, with the very same grin she was so used to seeing in the evening.
She shivered, lit up the cigarette while putting a tape in the radio. Atmospheric static filled the theatre, along with the scent of vanilla, retched out by her cigarette. After a while, sobbing sounds echoed through the speakers. The actress stood still motionless behind the puppet, when suddenly the sobbing turned into faint cries: "No, please don't," a soft, rather soothing voice said, as if nightmare whispers escaped from within the tape. After that, the sobbing continued.
Minutes passed by and the audience became a bit noisy; they really had no clue where this was heading to, even though the performance before the break was so beautifully romantic. Her husband was still wondering what exactly she was doing on stage. After all, people had spend quite some money to see a play that radiates romance, but not to listen to a sobbing woman. He too lit up a cigarette as he saw one of the spectators standing up to leave the hall. Suddenly, a loud, ear-deafening slam boomed through the radio.
A woman yelled in fright, a man roared "Come here you bitch!" Immediately followed was silence, once in a while interrupted by high-pitched screams. As though on cue, the actress started hitting the doll as hard as she could. She kicked it in the stomach, punched it on the back, even struck nearby the private parts, almost synchronized with the smacking sounds that came through the radio. Stupefied by her actions, the audience stared at her as if she was posessed by a ghost.
Her husband came on stage, turned off the radio and asked her what on earth there was going on. She stopped hitting the doll and while she was still grasping for breath, she looked at the audience. Then, she turned over to him and looked at him with a livid stare. Eventually, she stripped off the suit she was wearing, and showed her bruises for the first time in public.
She pointed at him and said with an ice-cold voice: "Here, your curtain falls". Finally she released herself from the burden she had been living in the past few years. She went off stage, walked straight to the exit and left. Like a reborn nightingale, she hummed her way through the city, not caring for what people could be thinking.
Without looking back, she started her journey to a new life, with an unknown destination.
Well, this is written for APTP, inspired by the lines:
'She began humming. Though the city spewed its life, her song was all she heard. The cars, the hearts and stolen grace all fell beneath this blessed tune. She never wished to cease her breath.'
All help is welcome, since writing stories is almost an impossible task for me, thinking that English isn't my maternal...
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Comments
1 - 18 of 18
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original
Lenader that was a brilliant short story! You say that English is your secondary language, yet you write so fluently in English it would be impossible for anyone to tell! Your story was unique, captivating and empowering! I wouldn't change a thing...I really enjoyed this, thanks for sharing!
Mareta
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Amazing
Amazing write! I am impressed....very well done.
Your ability to pull the reader in and keep them on the edge of their seat and ultimately knock them off is mindblowing.
The end is such a shock.
Blessings! Tammy -
and I second that choice with everything I am
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thank you so much for reading and commenting this dear Linda... I'm so sorry to hear that you could reflect your life to this though... This is for the APTP thing (you know) and as I like to write complaints towards society (or parts of) I came up with this... I can not even imagine how hard it must be for a woman that has to undergo this kind of torture
If only all human beings could put the hands together and make this place so much better for everyone, without war, rage, battles or violence...
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I think this is the very first story I read on your page. I'm not a story writer but I dd enjoy the way you made it roll on. I lied how you presented the personages the plot. The story line didn't get lose between the paragraphs and it ptovided a quite vivid image. I know a story writer that could give you a better feedback, he isn't feeling well write now, but I'll bookmark this and send him the link.
To me it reads very well, good job Lele! -
This is absolutely amazing, Leander. You had me on the edge of my seat and, while I thought I had it figured out, you twisted the plot towards the end and so what I thought was going to be the ending was far away from what it really was. Beautiful story. I am bookmarking and applauding this one!
Elisa
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And now you write stories too, Leander, WOW!! Wonderful, my friend...I like what you did here and I loved the ending, the final resolution, the shedding of burdens. Wish I could do that... .
This really is so great, my friend and after all the time that I've been reading your works, still you amaze me with your talent. Loved the tragedy in this poem and then the victory of the victor. You are a Victor too, my friend.
~ Nicolette
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That was some amazing metaphorical connection, and truly such an amazing piece. I, too, feel that this one deserves to be in the APTP Hall of Fame (which is being created shortly.)
This is amazing, Leander, and as always it evidences just how unaware you are of your ability. You're a star.
J -
Oh, wow. Tragedy and victory all in one short story. Just perfect. I loved it.
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The story in this is simply heart-wrenching. You let the suspense linger long enough to wonder what she was going to do... and the ending is just
. This is just beyond completely brilliant, Leander. I hope you realize that. 
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Oh my. Just... wow. This is great. The images were wonderful and it was an easy read. You should submit this to publishers. I mean it.
-Chase -
more, more!!
leander, this may be the best work i have read in a long time... including the books i actually money for at the store.. darn.. makes me feel like a dumb ass.. -
Geez Lee, how can you not be proud of this.
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splendidly done
Wow leander, what an amzing story you have written here. The tension in it kept me going - I wanted/needed to know how this would end. And what a magnificent end it was. Really splendidly done. I have never ever read anything like it. I enjoyed reading it. Good luck. Anna.
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All corrected
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I never applaud...Or when I do, is because my words are useless.Period.
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are there any things that could be better sweety?
like tenses, building of the sentences... and stuff 
I'm so not sure about his 
lol
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Pfffft!
Leander, I've come to the conclusion that you can do no wrong in the writing world. All your writing is brillant.
I'm not really a big fan of stories... BUT... I was on the edge of my seat the whole time through while reading this, and of course at the climax of the story my heart fell to my tippy-toes . Truly a wonderful, and touching story Leander.
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