Will it be me?
by Marta Santillo
She’s sitting in the theatre, towards the middle, she is wearing a black beret.
THE OLD WOMAN WITH THE RED LIPSTICK (to herself, watching the dancers rehearsing on stage)
I find these red seats so comforting; I touch the velvet with my fingers, I close my eyes, I imagine I am on the stage once again. I can smell the sweat, hear the shoes tapping on the wooden floor, hear the other dancers breathing behind those fake smiles. But today I am back here to finally end it all. To unravel the mystery I created long ago. To give them the voice they deserve. Today I am just wrinkles and red lipstick, I am the shadow of those ballet shoes. Will it be me, tonight?
THE LOST PRINCESS (looking at the old woman with the lipstick)
I know she is probably deciding which string to pull to make me dance in the way she wants, to make me love and cry, to make me fall. I am trapped in this marionette’s porcelain skin, under the leotard there is no beating heart. I am waiting for her to decide. Seven long years of tears, seven long years of bitter tears looking for my prince. Will it be me who dies tonight?
PERCIVAL (to the lost princess)
We have been trapped here, dancing for her, night after night. We have been asking for more and she is just silent, her sad smile of a new shade of cherry every day. She is writing our story, giving us the clothes to wear. I have been given a quest, finding my lost love in the maze of the castle, finding my lost love in the dark woods. But I have been tricked and poisoned. Cursed to dream the world they are all living. Will it be me who dies tonight?
THE FAIRY WITCH (watching the old king)
I have put on my crimson cape today, the cellos are shaping my pain, I have arrived at the end of my act. I don’t know where I will go next. I wonder what she will decide for me. I hope she will help me revenge the betrayal, the smell of coffee and poison is giving me headaches. I pray she decides that evil will win. Will it be me who dies tonight?
THE OLD KING (watching the fairy witch)
The moonlight is shining on me. I keep coming here, although I am so tired. I have seen her spying on me from the corner, she is plotting against me. I know I chose power over what we had. Her skin was so soft against the ivy. I still dream about her, in my nightmares. Will it be me who dies tonight?
THE MAN WITH THE GUN (looking at the gun in his hands, which are shaking)
She summoned me. In this dance she’s chasing the end of the story, the pain, the loss, the revenge. She wants them to find peace, to finally rest in the moss along the river. She wants to lie there herself, with them, close her eyes and find a new shade of emerald green, a new dream in which to hide. Will it be me, tonight?
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Marta Santillo writes novels, short stories and poems. She loves Latin American magical realisms, gothic novels and fantasy.
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Our Readers said:
• A very original piece; stands out from the others.
• Because, with its magical, fantasy feel – the actors within a script – it has a totally different approach to nearly every other story submitted.
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