Will or not it’s me?
by Marta Santillo
She’s sitting within the theatre, in the direction of the center, she is sporting a black beret.
THE OLD WOMAN WITH THE RED LIPSTICK (to herself, watching the dancers rehearsing on stage)
I discover these purple seats so comforting; I contact the velvet with my fingers, I shut my eyes, I think about I’m on the stage as soon as once more. I can odor the sweat, hear the footwear tapping on the picket ground, hear the opposite dancers respiratory behind these faux smiles. But as we speak I’m again right here to lastly finish all of it. To unravel the thriller I created way back. To give them the voice they deserve. Today I’m simply wrinkles and purple lipstick, I’m the shadow of these ballet footwear. Will or not it’s me, tonight?
THE LOST PRINCESS (trying on the outdated girl with the lipstick)
I do know she might be deciding which string to drag to make me dance in the best way she needs, to make me love and cry, to make me fall. I’m trapped on this marionette’s porcelain pores and skin, underneath the leotard there isn’t any beating coronary heart. I’m ready for her to determine. Seven lengthy years of tears, seven lengthy years of bitter tears in search of my prince. Will or not it’s me who dies tonight?
PERCIVAL (to the misplaced princess)
We have been trapped right here, dancing for her, night time after night time. We have been asking for extra and she or he is simply silent, her unhappy smile of a brand new shade of cherry day by day. She is writing our story, giving us the garments to put on. I’ve been given a quest, discovering my misplaced love within the maze of the fortress, discovering my misplaced love at midnight woods. But I’ve been tricked and poisoned. Cursed to dream the world they’re all residing. Will or not it’s me who dies tonight?
THE FAIRY WITCH (watching the outdated king)
I’ve placed on my crimson cape as we speak, the cellos are shaping my ache, I’ve arrived on the finish of my act. I don’t know the place I’ll go subsequent. I ponder what she’s going to determine for me. I hope she’s going to assist me revenge the betrayal, the odor of espresso and poison is giving me complications. I pray she decides that evil will win. Will or not it’s me who dies tonight?
THE OLD KING (watching the fairy witch)
The moonlight is shining on me. I hold coming right here, though I’m so drained. I’ve seen her spying on me from the nook, she is plotting towards me. I do know I selected energy over what we had. Her pores and skin was so smooth towards the ivy. I nonetheless dream about her, in my nightmares. Will or not it’s me who dies tonight?
THE MAN WITH THE GUN (trying on the gun in his arms, that are shaking)
She summoned me. In this dance she’s chasing the top of the story, the ache, the loss, the revenge. She needs them to seek out peace, to lastly relaxation within the moss alongside the river. She needs to lie there herself, with them, shut her eyes and discover a new shade of emerald inexperienced, a brand new dream by which to cover. Will or not it’s me, tonight?
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Marta Santillo writes novels, quick tales and poems. She loves Latin American magical realisms, gothic novels and fantasy.
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Our Readers stated:
• A really authentic piece; stands out from the others.
• Because, with its magical, fantasy really feel – the actors inside a script – it has a very totally different method to almost each different story submitted.