Charlotte is a first year at the prestigious Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts in London. Little does she know that inside these old walls not only her love for acting will grow.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Improvisation class is my favorite. It is truly liberating to express yourself so freely.
I remember how intimidated I have been the first time round. So consumed by what other people might think of my performance, about me. Trying so hard it looked absolutely desperate. Anything but natural. I cringe even thinking about it.
I have come a long way since then, but the one thing I am still unable to do is screaming. I just can't. Not in front of people. Not even in the safety of my own room.
I can't explain it, but every time I try, my mouth opens, but nothing comes out. It is the strangest feeling. I feel my chest tighten, I feel the air exiting, waiting for the sound but nothing than silence. Looking like a mad man screaming under water. Much to the entertainment of my class.
My professor has tried everything in the book so far, to loosen this blockage. But hasn't given up on me yet. "It will come Charlotte. When you are ready to let go, it will happen effortlessly" she keeps telling me.
I just hope she is right, because rationally I can't explain what is holding me back. One would think there is enough crazy shit going on, for me to scream the house down. But there obviously needs to be more. Splendid prospect.
Shaking my head at myself, I walk over to the far corner to pick up my bag. As soon as I see it, something feels out of place. Why is my bag on the chair? Didn't I put it on the floor as usual? And why the hell is the zipper open?
I look around, but cant see anything suspicious. Everyone acting normal, completely oblivious to my little panic attack.
I open the top compartment and see a white card sticking out. What the hell?
Slowly taking it out, the letters strike me immediately. "There is someone in my head, but it's not me" is written in the middle. That is a message. And I know exactly who sent it.
Trying not to raise suspicion I peek around. He is nowhere to be seen. Who put it there? Has he been here? Someone would have noticed. Did he ask someone to do it for him? Did he tell anyone? Does anyone know about us?
At this moment my inability to scream really frustrates me. That being the perfect opportunity. I feel tension and anger building inside me.
I opt for the second best thing and kick over the chair in front of me, earning a surprised look from Peter and Susannah.
"Sorry" my response only a whisper. Blushing, I grab my bag and run for the door.
Running down the hallway, down Gower Street and past my bus stop until I come to an abrupt stop in front of my house.
I walk into the kitchen, still gasping for air. Jules is sitting at the kitchen table, her architecture books using up every inch of the surface. She is so caught up in her studies, she doesn't notice my state.
"How is the screaming going" she looks up with a smirk.
"Not good" I press my lips into a thin line, letting myself drop on the chair.
"It will come" she says softly.
"So everyone keeps telling me" slowly catching my breath again.
I open my bag and take out the card.
"Someone put this in my bag today" nonchalant I throw the card across the table.
"What is it?" Jules grabs it.
"A message I think"
"Wait! Is this what I think it is" she raises her eyebrows.
"I am afraid so. Either he put it in there or he had someone put it in there during improv class"
"Creepy"
I grab a bottle of water from the counter and walk over to her side of the table. Both of us staring at the card.
"There is someone in my head, but it's not me" she reads aloud, shaking her head. "Ooookaaaaaayyy?" dragging out the letters.
"Pink Floyd." I smirk.
"I got that far, Char" she rolls her eyes at me. "But what does it mean? Does it mean what it says? That you are in his head? That he is thinking about you?".
"I don't know yet. I have to think about it" I shrug my shoulders.
"Why can't that bloke send you flowers and a sorry note like a normal person?" she turns, waving the card in front of my face.
"Well, I guess not being normal is part of his charme" I smile. "I will worry about the cryptic message later. I don't know what to think about him contacting me in the first place. I am just beginning to feel like myself again" I sigh.
"Tell me about it" she giggles. "Maybe he finally figured to cross over to the dark side" she bursts out laughing.
Trying my hardest to keep a straight face, I lean over to her. "Well, once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny" I say in a serious voice before giving in to laughter.
"Seriously Jules, I don't know what to think of it. And I don't know if it makes me happy or sad. I don't want to get my hopes up again. I don't know what to make of this. What to do."
"I know" she says softly, pulling me into a hug. "Whatever you do, promise to be careful, Char"
"I promise Jules" I give her a squeeze.
The next few hours I spend sitting by the window, Pink Floyd's Brain Damage playing in my headphones, on repeat. The card pressed against my chest, I stare out of the window. Once again caught up in my thoughts about a message he sent me. About him.
I giggle when I think about the lunatic on the grass, at the beginning of the song. The one that breaks the rules. Stepping over the boundaries of what society deems acceptable. Could this message be a subtle reference to our first encounter. To the "lunatic" he met balancing on a railing? I would love to think so.
"The lunatic is in my head You raise the blade, you make the change Your re-arrange me till im sane You lock the door And throw away the key There's someone in my head, but it's not me"
Is this the message he is sending? That he is losing the plot, because I am in his head? Well, join the club. I have been around the bend ever since I met you.
But that would be too simple. There is always a deeper meaning with this guy. Sending me a quote from a song that has been linked to Syd Barrett, who he happened to use as inspiration for a role.
He always makes sure he knows his shit about his roles, so I bet he dug deep into the subject.
I repeat the verse over and over in my head. I see the reference to sociological conditioning. The idea of putting a square peg through a round hole if necessary, to make everyone fit the norm. And how everyday life can make you go insane, if you lose yourself.
I have always been fond of the idea that what is commonly referred to as insanity, actually is the decision to be unreachable for rational or conventional thought.
The dark side of the moon, for me a place that favors emotion, empathy and the extraordinary. A place where you are content with yourself, where the weight of conformity is lifted off your shoulders and you are wearing the fool's cap with pride. A place of true enlightenment, sanity and freedom.
"I'll see you on the dark side of the moon" Roger Waters sings in the background.
I am lost! All I know for now is that he went to great length to contact me. That itself a strong message. Maybe all I need to know.
