Yours Truly

1

I miss my mum.

I had never thought that life would push me to a point where I would ever dare think those words, given that my relationship with my mother isn't really the best. Yet somehow, the cruelty of this atmosphere forced me to remember dear mummy's warm hugs and comforting kisses whenever thunder crashed and deafened my 9-year-old ears. Back when I was more of a child to her, rather than a competiton. And now thunder hits again, and mummy is not here to shoo the fear away.

It's for the best.

The waiting room was freezing, and it had nothing to do with the weather outside. This was a different type of cold. One that is almost tangible, caused by the lingering fear and anxiety of everyone sitting around me. The walls could easily be soaked with the collective sweat of everyone inside. Breaths and whispers are carefully held for fear that their weight would cause the room to break. Because this is how auditioning for Chris Hale's upcoming movie feels like. A submarine that can either take you to Atlantis, or implode.

The audition room door opens and a girl rushes out, sobbing.

- "Addams, Chloe", a stern voice calls from inside.

A woman with straight jet black hair and striking green eyes lifted with a perfectly sharp line of eyeliner stands and walks nervously to the audition room, leaving the rest of us watching as the click of her heels disappeared behind the giant brown wooden door.

- "That better be waterproof".

I whipped my head to face Zoe.

- "Not nice", I said, pursing my lips to force back a laugh.

- "It's Chris Hale, for God's sake. Has he ever written anything remotely not sad ?"

I look down to my worn out copy of All that was left untold, and think about when I canceled my plans for a week after I had finished reading it. Hard to believe that this masterpiece was the debut novel of Chris Hale. It contained too many raw, mature emotions that consumed my every being and swayed my mind like a siren's lullaby. Beautiful, treacherous. Downright depressing.

Of course, I had to purchase every single release of his. Jane's Lullaby, Cupid's cupid, The Stolen Flame, I have read them all. He crafted masterpiece after masterpiece, all way too different to be compared, united by the one common thing that Hale injects into all of his books : grief. He adores to portray grief as different creatures, sprouting life into its every persona, toying with his readers' feelings to his heart's content. And it worked marvelously, seeing as many authors avoided publishing their work at the same year as Chris Hale, fearing for an inevitable overshadowing.

What a sick ass genius.

When my agent - bestfriend Zoe managed to get me to audition for the part of Grace, the main lead in 'All that was left untold', I screamed.

And now I sit with my back straight, legs crossed, and ears alert, eagerly waiting for my name to be called. I truly cannot wait for this to be over.

The wooden door springs open and Chloe Addams walks out. Her green eyes were now naked, rivers of black ink decorated her cheeks.

Zoe gives me a look.

- "Andrews, Prunelle."

I reached for Zoe's hand for support.

- "Go. In and out. Quick and easy", she whispered.

I smiled and squeezed her hand as a thank you, wanting to save my words to my scene.

With a long shaky sigh, I stood and walked carefully, affirming positively with each step I take. Just like Zoe said. Quick and easy.

My heart beat in my eardrums as I reached to close the gigantic door behind me. Keeping my eyes lowered, I spot a single red chair that faces the jury's wide ivory table. And it was only as my bottom touched the smooth fabric that I had decided to raise my eyes to observe my surroundings.