0 comments

Sad Drama Fiction

What time is it? I have no idea. Surely is already late at night. But I can’t fall asleep yet.

Tomorrow is the play…and I’m still unable to perform the core scene of my character. It’s a full soliloquy! Even if I’m not the lead role, it’s still something important. Realizing that reading the scrip in the bed will only make it easier for me to end up sleeping, I quickly get up. I open the only window in my room, in an attempt to lose any drowsiness I could have.

It works. My face meets a cold breeze that makes me go back to my senses. I should read the scrip next to the window, let’s see…

So, my character is supposed to start as an outcast. An outcast with a tragic past of course, like the genre of the play. And after some scenes I’ve already practiced with good results, comes the soliloquy. That’s where I get stuck.

I don’t have trouble with the dialogue. It’s already in my memory. The problem is the emotion: the soliloquy is supposed to be about the character’s pain and hopelessness, after losing some loved ones. It goes on and on until it reaches a point in were I’m have to cry in despair and helplessness to such a cruel fate.

Yet, I’m unable to shed a single tear. And it’s not the first time it happens. I’ve doing well in drama until now, but whenever this kinds of scenes are needed, I’m totally useless. No matter what I do, I just can’t cry when it’s needed, despite having learning drama for three months already…huh, sounds weird. Three months, right? I can’t believe I made it this far.

So, it’s been three months since I’ve decided to give drama a try. And I haven’t left yet. That alone it’s a bigger achievement to me than it was getting an important role. Still, I’m not really excited for it.

Guess I should have expected it. Anyways, what is exciting to me?

Lately, nothing I do seems important to me nowadays. No, who I’m kidding? It’s been like that for a while, I’m just realizing it now. I’ve already reached a point where suddenly I couldn’t do anything without a question popping in my mind:

 “Why even bother?”

Why should I bother to do this? I could just miss the play, and the world would be okay.

But it wouldn’t be that okay. There’s an audience waiting for me, isn’t it? The other actors are also expecting a good performance from me. They all said me things like “you’ll do it” or “the tears will come to you naturally when you start feeling the scene”.

Then there’s mom. She was so persistent about getting me into drama, for some reason. Does she wants to see me in a stage so bad? Yeah, probably it’s that. She’s always saying that I’m very talented, and that everyone would notice it if I gave myself the chance to show it. Guess I can’t disappoint her. Maybe I can do an effort to give them all my best performance. It’ll be only for one day, and I’ve endure a lot of days.

But after that, I’m not sure if I should continue drama. If I’m going to keep being stuck in scenes like this, then I better start doing something else. Again.

How long will this keep going? I've already tried a lot of things: First, I started by joining the church choir. To my surprise, it wasn’t as hard as I expected. My voice even got praised; they say it was “deep but graceful” and “uniquely melancholic”. I became well liked inside the group and everyone seemed charmed by our voices. That gave me a lot of positive reputation, more than I already had. And guess what? I left only a month later. Choir music isn't exactly my cup of tea, and that didn't changed when I started singing it. As for the friends I made there? I wasn’t really attached to them. We barely speak anymore.

Then, I went to some art classes. It seemed promising, but then…oh god. I’m sure a toddler could have painted better than me. What was I thinking? Plastic arts were never for me. I quit before I could embarrass myself more. The only good thing about it, it’s that I met a lot of decent people. I talk to them from time to time about, you know, regular stuff. Just some chit-chat here and there, about things that nobody really cares about but they're the only conversation topic you can have with someone you don't know that well. You see, it's not like they’re your best friends, but you don't want to be alone so you hang out with them anyways.

I pretty much doing the same right now with the people I met while doing drama. We practice, give some feedback about each other’s performances and then we go out for some food. I can’t disappoint them tomorrow by acting poorly in the play. Unlike me, they’re still able to find meaning in something insignificant. I envy them.

But I’m still have a performance to do, so I better get this right. I continue my lines:

-Why I seem doomed to disgrace? It’s like the world had me in checkmate

That last word. It reminds me of that game I know you’re thinking about. I used to play it in the past, and I was somewhat good. But then, life happened and gradually distanced myself from it. So, thinking I could recover the passion, I went to a chess club. The first two weeks were intense: meeting old and new friends, lots of techniques learned and competitiveness at its fullest…then it became tiring. Exhausting. This club was clearly meant for those who saw in chess a real battlefield, and I didn’t belonged to that group. So, I left in good terms with everyone. I may play from time to time, but I’m not dedicating my life to it.

At this point you may be wondering if I ever had a passion for anything. Well, I did. Notice the past tense, because in the current moment, I don’t practice any of my former hobbies either. I mean, what I gained from those things?

For example, I used to be very into wood carving. I was introduced to it at a early age by some relatives. And without bragging, I’ll say my skills were good. But then, I thought…was it even useful? Once I die, all my works would just be stored in a dirty room, or getting rotten in the trash. Besides, what’s the point in decorating a piece of wood? It didn’t served any purpose besides giving me less time to live.

And don’t get me started with the piano lessons. It was an instrument that easily cached my attention: a piano’s melody is indeed a unique beauty, but also…a brief beauty. As soon as the keys stop moving, you’re kicked out of wonderland. I had to accept it: a piano isn’t going to make me feel better, not for long. So, I’m just wasting time to face the actual problem, aren’t I? Besides, my skills are nowhere near a professional, so, why I even trying? It’s not like the world is running out of pianists.

Finally, there was that hobby. The one almost nobody knew of and that I couldn’t find anyone who also did it. And if there is someone, chances are they won’t say it. It’s one of those things that you really enjoy and while you don't think it's inherently wrong, it’s not something appropriate to bring up at your family meeting; you just don't feel like explaining why it's not a weird or perverted thing to do. But since this is between you and me…I like corpses.

I know that sentence leaves a lot of room for imagination. More like, the dark imagination. But what I actually mean by that, it’s that I don’t think we should find corpses repulsive. They’re the last proof of the existence. I mean, when a bird is dead, its corpse is everything that’s left here. We don’t know if it had a soul or anything, but the body remains. We know that bird was alive because it’s dead and in order to die you have to be alive first. Understood? We shouldn’t be repulsed by something so natural. The only downside it’s that corpses will get rotten, but there’s always something you could keep: the bones.

And just so you stop worrying about it, no, I’m not talking about human bones. I have boundaries, you know!

Bones will last more than the lifetime of the one that they belonged to. Besides, they’re like they’re the building blocks that we all have in common. And they make good accessories too. Or at least, that what I would have told you when I still practiced such a thing. Because as you may have guessed, I stopped doing that too. It’s easy to understand why. Is anyone ever going to appreciate it? Do I really need to do that? The more I thought about it, the more I realized it was pointless just like playing piano and carving wood.

After all, that hobby is dead already…let me laugh at my misery, okay? Because if I don’t laugh…

I don’t know what else to do.

If someone found out about my unusual hobby, I would be labelled as a creep. That word is absolutely incompatible with my current reputation, the only thing I still care a bit for. The reason? Only because it makes people think there’s nothing wrong with me.

I should keep reading my lines.

But as always, it’s pointless. Like everything else. What does matter if can’t do the scene? It’s just another small play in the immensity of the world. They can find a better actor next time. Besides, I’m drowsy already. Getting sleep will do more for my wellbeing than a play, anyway.

I have no idea of how much I actually slept. The only thing I know for sure, is that as soon as I woke up, my body was already getting dressed. And even in shorter amount of time, I found myself in the backstage. What the hell was I thinking? I’m still unable to do the scene, but I have a role to play anyways. Somehow my body brought me here, even when my mind felt so tired.

Whatever, let’s give them a good performance.

Luckily for me, everything goes smoothly. For a moment, I even forget that I’m unable to cry for my soliloquy. Until I had to do it.

Here I’m, in front of a crowd that surely includes some acquaintances, my mother and people that expect me to do something.  

-Why I seem doomed to disgrace? It’s like the world had me in checkmate…

I should start weeping by now, or at least, pretend I’m doing so. But just as yesterday, I’m unable to do either. And people are still waiting for me to continue. How much time has passed? Don’t stay silent!

-I wish I could cry, but I won’t. What’s that even? Everything is meaningless, the love, the pain, the effort…the tears of a mortal don’t have any impact in this careless world that never waits for any of us. As easy as that, they were all gone. Like nothing. Your family, your goals, your feelings…it’ll be all erased as fast as a flame blow by the wind. It’s useless.

I keep improvising, hoping it would pass as part as the script.

-Maybe crying would let me unwind, but at the end of the day, nothing will change. So, I’ll have to cry again. And again. Doomed to eternal pain, I can’t find any joy my existence, no matter what I try do. At the end, I’m just doing stuff to waste my lifetime. A corpse will be more relatable to me than an actual living body: we have so much in common, we’re a body that was once alive…

Why the words reach my mouth so fast? I’m not following my lines, and yet, it does feel like something I had to say. But there’s also lines I should say, so I go back to the original script.

It’s seems like nobody in the audience noticed, because the play ends in a very satisfying note. Well, at least it does for those who cared about it. When the curtain closes, I am immediately surrounded by compliments:

-You did it great! Acting comes naturally to you!

-I almost cry! Your character looked totally dead inside, so broken…

-Those weren’t your lines, but you still deceived the audience so well!

They were so, so right. Is almost as if they knew…But they don’t. They can’t, can’t they?

No. I’m not letting them.

-Thank you so much! But I think you guys are exaggerating!

-Come on, it’s true!

-Don’t say such things, I just practiced really hard for it…it’s not something impossible.

They try to convince me to “go celebrate”, but I’ve already had enough for today. Only when I promise that we’ll do it tomorrow, I’m finally able to reach my mother.

Before she says all the compliments I know she’ll say, I guide her outside the stage.

-Mom…

-Yes?

Making sure nobody is near us, I finally tell her my final decision:

-I’m quitting.

What I’m going to after I return home? Maybe I should get rid of all those bones that are still on my drawer. Yeah, I better do that before the housemaid finds them. It’s probably going to take a while to dispose them, considering how many they are. So, that’s how I’ll spend another day.

And the purpose was…?

January 27, 2021 15:33

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

0 comments

RBE | We made a writing app for you (photo) | 2023-02

We made a writing app for you

Yes, you! Write. Format. Export for ebook and print. 100% free, always.