The ballerinas looked at me confused as my fingers touched the glass and then my face. My heart was beating faster than ever before and I felt as if I could run out of air any minute.
"Let's... Wait outside." Meg said, slowly pushing her friends towards the door. "She needs some time, girls."
I turned to Meg as the ballerinas left, muttering under my breath the most sincere "Thank you" I could think of in that moment. Then, I turned to the mirror and let out a deep sigh. I mean, I wasn't ugly. I looked really pretty in that snow-white ballerina dress, exposing my round shoulders, as if they were made out of marble, sculpted by the hand of a master craftsman. My hair was long and wavy, reminding me of beautiful rays of light, a stark contrast to my dark brown hair from...
I shaked my head to avoid confusion. But one thing remained unchanged: the colour of my eyes. Two scared puddles of an intense blue were staring back at me in the mirror.
"So I am Sorelli...."
My voice sounded so faint, paralyzed by some kind of fear, as if someone had been strangling me with a pair of powerful hands. My hand caressed the mirror, trying to touch the reflection behind the glass, but it all felt absentminded, like some kind of delirious act by someone who lost it all. I sighed bitterly, trying to make sense of everything that has happened to me, trying to find a reason behind this whole mess but, most importantly, trying to remember just who Sorelli was...
"Meg... Meg... Meg Giry...." I repeated the name of my unlikely saviour, with a hushed voice. Then, it hits me.
"MEG GIRY?! THAT MEG GIRY?!"
The gravity of the revelation hit me like a falling anvil. Without any trace of doubt, I was finding myself in "The Phantom Of The Opera", the novel I loved so much. Now I understood who my saviour was and why my name was now "Sorelli": some kind of weird body-switch occured and I took over this poor girl's body. I feel a bizarre tinge of happiness, like seeing one of your wildest dreams fulfilled at last, after a long struggle. I closed my eyes. This feeling... This experience... It's all...
I let out a terrified scream. This can't be happening! I started pacing around the room in a frenzied state of shock, like a restless lion. By now, the ballerinas just behind that door must think that I am crazy. I took deep breaths, one after the other, in an attempt to calm myself down and think.
The timid image of La Sorelli, the real La Sorelli, started to slowly creep into my mind, in the bluey haze of lucid dreams in the middle of the night. As if nothing but a distant ghost of my own tormented, hallucinating mind, I see the thin figure slowly taking shape, emerging from the fog of confusion like from being a curtain. This fleeting mirage feels so real that I even stretch my hand forward to touch her. In a flash, she's gone.
I open my eyes, now facing the dressing mirror once again. My hand glides over the smooth edges of my face, caressing the skin of my cheeks with the care of handling something fragile that might break at even the slightest of touches. My eyes never leave the reflection on the glass, locked in some kind of otherworldly standstill. As my breath becomes steady, I realise the truth at last: I am nothing but a prisoner of my own obsession, living the life of an existence reduced to only two chapters, vanishing into the void after the last sentence is uttered out loud or hushed. That's why I couldn't remember Sorelli, an irrelevant character, fading away. As I gazed into the mirror, I saw a glimmer of sadness on the glass, but also one of curiosity, lighting up my face with some new found optimism. Be it curiosity or just fascination, I realised that I had to embrace this new feeling. I will change this.
I took a deep breath and, with my new determination, I walked over to the door of the dressing room and opened it, the hinges screeching almost demonically. The ballerinas turned their heads towards me in an instant, some crouched down on the floor while others resting against the wall. Meg was the first to speak, her eyes gleaming in worry:
"Are you alright?"
"Yes." I took a deep breath. "Can I dye my hair?"
The girls exchanged some confused looks, others tried to hold back their laughter, muffling it at best.
"Dye your hair?!" One of them exclaimed. "You're outright crazy!"
"Are you sure?" Another one asked timidly, as not to be mocked by her peers. "Isn't this just your delirium speaking."
My face was calm, unbothered by their comments. Moreover, I was smiling, as if I am starting a simple desire. I turned to Meg, ignoring the judging glares of the petite rats as I ask again:
"Can you help me dye my hair?"
YOU ARE READING
I accidentally became the female lead!
General Fiction"I'm not the protagonist of the story. You can't love me! This is all wrong..." He grabbed my hand and his eyes met mine. They shone just like two sparks. For a second, just a mere second, the whole world stopped turning. "Sorelli," he said reachin...
