|My head was pounding as I slowly opened my eyes. The coldness of the floor startled me. What the...why am I on the floor? I wondered as I struggled to stand on shaky legs. As I looked around, I noticed the props and the ropes for the changing of the scenes. I'm backstage? How did I get here? I was getting scared.
The area was void of people.Where was everyone?I remembered walking to the back door of the theater. Then I heard someone call my name. That's when I saw him, the man from last night's performance. After that, I remember nothing.
I walked toward the stage area and saw only darkness. I hesitated, but something pulled me toward that darkness. As I walked out onto the stage, I saw that a single candle burned. Shadows danced around the stage as if they were performing for me. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I heard the sound of clapping echoing throughout the empty theater.
“Who's there!” I cried out.
The clapping ceased. The silence frightened me even more as I scanned the seats. Music began to flow all around me, covering my body in the beauty of its melody. The sound was heavenly as it filled the theater.
“Dance for me,” a voice echoed.
I realized that I was in my costume for tonight's performance. The music seemed to penetrate my body as I began to sway.
“So beautiful,” the voice whispered.
The music seemed to move my body. I had no control but I didn't care as long as I danced.
Out of thin air a beautiful ornate mirror appeared. I danced until I stood in front of it. I smiled as I looked at my reflection, and then noticed something crimson on my breast. My smile faded at the site of the stain. Is that blood? Fear slowly crept its way back into my mind as I raised my hand to touch it.
I felt a presence behind me, warm and inviting, devouring my fear. I dropped my hand.
A warm breath spread over my neck, toward my ear, whispering. "You are mine, forever. My bloody ballerina."
Leaning back, my head resting on something solid, I closed my eyes. "I am yours, forever."
© Copyright 2007 SilverNickles (UN: roberson at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
SilverNickles has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
|Log In To Leave Feedback|