Something I wrote just now...so...hopefully you will happen to enjoy it- if you think I should continue...let me know.
I’m watching a Midsummer Night’s Dream being performed by my school’s rival school. The odd thing is, I don’t even know why or how I managed to end up here. God, would they kill me if they found out I was here, clapping, and *gasp* enjoying myself! Dear God, they would think- I’m a traitor!
Okay, not really, but they would be pissed that I’m here, and that I paid for a ticket, thus helping the school out…by three dollars.
But either way, here I am. Watching a play performed by high school students. And I’m finding that they are actually…really good!!
I’m watching a girl- she’s standing very tall, her arms are crossed and she has an exasperated look on her face. She’s off to the side- in the curtain. She’s obviously is a stage manager of some sort, but she has come a bit too close to the edge of the curtain so that I can see her- well, some of her. While the actors are playing their parts she stands- watching, bored, and waiting, and frustrated if they miss a line.
But… she gets over it.
A streak of blueish-gray light hits her face at an angle, making the features oddly distorted. Her head is tilted, and she’s saying something, and she holds a smile suppressed behind her annoyed face. She, herself, is acting, too.
She congratulates the girl playing Helena as she runs offstage, pats her on the back. The Helena rolls her eyes and walks away.
I’m hiding behind a wall off to the side of the audience, hidden, crouched down, but close to the stage. I watch everything. I hold my key to my house-I rode my bike here, and I could always ride back…but something about the performance leaves me entranced.
Intermission flows through the audience, and they get up, stretch, whisper, laugh. Get some cookies that they are serving here, or a bottle of water, or anything. In the commotion, I slip backstage, and find a dark corner, and a bench- the actors are all conversing elsewhere, as I thought.
I sit and wait.
Eventually, intermission draws closed .The remaining sentences finish, rustling begins and stops. Then the curtains open and it begins again.
Immediately I notice the girl.
…And the arm around her waist- the snaking arm of a boyfriend who is no doubt prizing what he thinks is his ‘possession’. Showing off to his friends just how smooth he can be- just what he can acclaim for his own. Well, so I think.
Yet- I have a feeling I think right.
I hafta sleep now...soooooo. YEA.