The Last Performance

Chapter One

The lights were blinding from where she stood on the stage, just as they always were. Her eyes had long since adjusted to the brightness; it was like a part of her, how natural it now seemed. But no matter how much she had adjusted to it, she could never see past it to the audience. Sometimes she forgot anyone was there.                                                                                                      

        Her body seemed to move on its own, her hands gesturing about, her fingers dancing through the air. Figures appeared in the air, elegant as they danced over the wooden floor to silent music; beasts prowled about the stage, stalking the flighty silhouettes of their prey; a pirate defended his treasure from his enemies.                                                                                         

        She was an illusionist of her time. Any story she could imagine in her mind could become real, yet not a reality. A story on the stage. She used no lights, no smoke, no shadows; the only instruments she needed was her own mind and an audience.                                                            

        The stories told themselves; the ball ended as the king chose his queen, the beasts ruled over their realms, and the pirate became glorious for the deeds he committed. Soon the stage cleared, and only she stood upon it, her illusions now ghosts of the past, no trace of the stories told left behind.    

        She bowed for her audience, a hand behind her back, another held out in a frozen gesture of welcome.                                                                                                                                                 

        There was no applause. 

         She stood slowly, unsure if she had done something incorrectly, if her stories were insufficient. Had she performed improperly? No, there was no improper way to perform. Had she told the wrong stories? No, there was no such thing as the wrong story.                                                                

        What had she done wrong?

        The light dimmed. For the first time ever, she could see the audience.

        But there was no audience to see.

        Not only had she been the only one on the stage, but she had been the only one there at all. Turning her head to the side, she could even see that there weren't even any stage hands behind the curtains. Not even any other performers watched her performance.

        The realization hurt, more than anything she had ever experienced before. Why wouldn't they watch her? Why weren't they there? Hadn't they always been together? Always there for one another?

        Why would they leave her?

        What had she done wrong...?

        Her knees buckled and she fell atop then, the impact sending a sharp jolt up her thighs. She clutched at herself, choking back sobs that threatened to tear from her throat. Why? Why? Why?      

        Why?