Rose’s point of view…
“So, this is the prop loft?” Louis asked, his voice shaky as we climbed up the stairs to the prop loft, above the stage. I nodded, turning on the light. In the loft was anything from prop swords, woven baskets, tea sets, backpacks, you name it. The prop loft, after a few decades of building up, had probably everything you could think of for any show possible… within reason.
“Why does this have to be so high above the stage?” He asked, his voice somewhat trembling as he peered over the side, and to the stage below.
I shrugged, not really thinking anything of it, and continued between the aisles, expecting him to follow me. “This is where we add ‘character’ to the show, Mr. Roberts would always say. Up here, you can find phones, silverware, blankets, you name-“ I turned around to see Louis still by the entrance, frozen in place as he stared at the ground below. “You coming?” I called, grabbing his attention.
He snapped out of whatever trance he was in, and nodded feverishly, shoving his hands in his pockets and hastily walking over to where I was, wearily glancing at the ledge every few seconds. I held back a grin and bit my lip, not believing what I was seeing.
This kid is afraid of heights!
I spun around, continuing down the aisle, my eyes scanning the culinary ware, stifling a grin as I plotted how I could mess with him, just to see the uptight ‘royalty’ come undone.
“Did you ever hear the story of Samantha-Lee?” I asked, picking up a prop knife, glancing at him to make sure he didn’t see me swipe it. Which of course, he didn’t his eyes traveling across the props. “Who’s she?” He asked, gently picking up a coffee mug, examining the design.
“Oh, nothing big, just a girl who died up here a couple of years ago.” I said ‘matter-of-factly’. His eyes widened, meeting mine. “Died? Why?” He stammered, putting the mug back up.
I shrugged, pretending to think nothing of it. “Samantha-Lee; she died right where your standing.” I nodded towards his feet, and he shuffled to the side, biting his lip. “She picks on theatre kids who come up here by themselves, that’s why we go up in pairs. Didn’t Kaylyn tell you?”
He shook his head no, before hastily coming to my side, deciding the distance between us was too far, that’d ‘Samantha-Lee’ would get him or something. I smirked, hiding the knife behind my back.
“How’d she die?” He whispered, looking over his shoulder, scanning the walkway behind us.
“Eh, she got in a fight with another theatre boy and the boy took a knife to her, stabbed his in the chest, and left her to bleed here. She especially doesn’t like boys, because of it. Once, she pushed a boy off the ledge. Ask Zayn, he’s seen it!” I added, holding up the knife so that’d it’d be the first thing he saw when he looked back at me.
Which of course, as planned, once he turned back to me, his eyes met the knife and he scrambled back, eyes widening as he let out a girlish yelp. “What the heck?” He gasped, falling back in utter shock, landing in the spot he was previously standing.
“You should’ve seen your face!” I giggled, tossing the knife back on the rack, clutching my stomach as I doubled over in laughter. “You were so scared!”
“You mean…Samantha-Lee isn’t real?” He asked, a hand over his chest, breathing heavily as he tried to maintain his heart-rate. I shook my head, smiling proudly. “Nope, just a joke. Nobody died up here, I promise”
