Collection of short stories

The Theater

The theater, a space where people show the world their ability to pretend what they're not, a space to express themselves and show another face to the world... But when the public gets tired of the pretending, they will not hesitate to make you invisible. 

All the lights you created will go out completely, leaving behind an old memory of you, dancing desperately, wanting to shine again.

The actors are still human, what sets them apart from the rest is their great ability to portray a character, to pretend what they will never be bringing entertainment to those who see it. It is the art of pretending.

And then, you will ask me... who's on here old stage? What does this abandoned place has that look like it's still functioning? 

To which many, oblivious to what really happened, would answer you: It was the scene of a successful actress in her time. An actress who, according to them, fell for not being "innovative enough". But that was not what happened. She dedicated herself body and soul to what she loved the most, until the public got tired of her for not being "innovative" in her performances. For me, her works were so natural and transparent that captivated me with the first expression, with the first appearance of her in the entertainment world.

As much as I liked her, if she didn't have the approval of all the viewers, it was clear that she would soon fall... And so it occured.

In the winter of her last work, dedicated to herself, she raised her wings to drop them at the end of the performance. A work so heartbreaking that she was able to move even the hardest stones. A work in which she represented the freedom to be different, a work full of happiness, sadness and anguish. And despite being honest about her, no one applauded for her. Despite having spread her beautiful crimson wings.

"I will never feel ashamed for who I was"

After pronouncing her closing sentence, she finally disappeared behind the curtains. On top of that old stage she herself had taken care of so much, only silence remained. This is how what nobody expected happened, which, of course, nobody echoed for her.

Three nights after her last performance, her body was found lifeless in her small apartment. She had died... she was driven to suicide.

It was there when many things from her past fit in, that explained why she gave so much effort to her work. Her parents abandoned her for not being "enough," whatever that means. She was also bullied in class for not being what people told her she "had to be". Because of that, she dropped out of school and dedicated herself to studying performing arts from a video she saw of another female actor, which touched her sorrowful heart, motivating her to be like the pretty woman she saw. But not even that helped her to run away from her past, her public was never interested in her.

The cause of death was nothing more than intoxication, but that, with her weak state of health, led her directly to death. 

How could a beautiful and talented woman die in such a sad and regrettable way...?

I couldn't even explain it to myself. When I saw her body, her dull face full of tears, a deep rage awoke in me. That day I decided that I would keep her memory alive. I felt the duty to pay homage to her, to give voice and light to a woman that was unjustly forgotten.

Thats's why this place feels like its still "alive". I've kept that theater room ever since she died. It's been 50 years since those days... Although it wasn't just my effort to maintain it. Lately I have been able to feel the warmth of her light, as if she were here, dancing on stage.

And it was that same afternoon, the same one in which you are reading this, that I was able to witness the figure of that forgotten actress, singing an opera just as heartbreaking as her last work last winter... 

"Thank you for taking care of me all this time, I know I won't be able to thank you, but I wanted to give you the opera I composed before I died"

And at those words, I wildy smiled. Perhaps it was pride, perhaps satisfaction at having fulfilled a dead woman's wish, or at having listened to her after so long.

I believe that, despite all the bad that we drag, we must have one last chance to be ourselves, without fear of suffering. 

At the end, the place that I cared for in her memory, became a place of refuge for grieving souls who could not fulfill their last wishes, until I also died. I can barely remember things after that, I only felt darkness when my life faded.

"Ah... Is this what the grieving souls experienced before they were left between the living and the dead? "

To this day, you can still hear some voices on the old stage. Listen to them, they are people like you who suffered without being able to be who they really were, listen to them until the end, they will thank you with a wonderful and beautiful final show.

It was a stage created precisely for sorrowful souls with unfulfilled desires.