Sound From the Crowd

Chapter One

I finished the final words of the song and walked off the stage. I felt hands clapping me on the back and congratulating me on an awesome job.

I have never understood why people act this way around me, it's not like I cured cancer or invented a new technology or anything like that. All I do is go up on a stage, sing relatively well in front of people in sparkly outfits and people treat me like I'm a goddess. The thing is I'm not a goddess. I'm just Eliza Boodwhitch, I grew up in Nebraska and never even dreamed that I had the smallest amount of talent.

I walked down the long, very bright hallway to my dressing room, I was ready to get what felt like fifteen layers of pure makeup off my face. I smiled as I pictured what my twelve year old sister's face would look like if she saw me right now. But, she got hit by a car three years ago and died before I was discovered. There was no body anywhere around the car to be found. She was a total fashionista and would die (no pun intended) for some of the outfits and makeup jobs I got. I opened the door to my dressing room and found the light was on. "That's odd," I thought, "I could have sworn that I turned off the lights when I left." I thought that maybe one of my stylists had come in here for an outfit or something and forgot to turn off the lights. I sat down in front of my mirror and thought I saw a human shadow pass behind me. "Madeline?" I asked and turned around but saw nothing. Madeline was my favorite clothing stylist/best friend. I shrugged and turned around. I took out a makeup wipe and started to make my face look like mine again. I was very pale and had long, brown curly hair. I was very short for my age of 19. I started to take my hair out of the tight bun that was on the top of my head. As I started to stand up to take my itchy, sparkly dress up a hand clamped around my mouth and nose. I screamed but it was muffled by the man's hand. In the mirror I saw a second person jump through the window of my first-floor dressing room and stood in front of me. "Hello darling," He said in a voice that sounded like sandpaper. He had a dirty air about him, like he hadn't showered in days. He took out a small case-like thing from his pocket and opened it. Inside it was a needle and syringe filled with a blue liquid that seemed like it was glowing. The man took it out from it's case and sneered. "Should I?" He asked the man behind me who still had his hand over my mouth and nose. "Yes, do it quickly before the security become suspicious," Was the reply from behind me. I felt the hands being slowly lifted from my face and replaced so he was gripping my hands tightly behind my back. I didn't like being held back like that and wanted to kick the man who was in front of me but I knew I would surely be killed without a second thought. Before I could try to scream a second time the man lifted the needle to my neck and inserted its sharp point right below my jaw line. I winced but didn't do anything more. I didn't want these men seeing that I was weak. I felt the liquid being inserted into my veins. I felt all of my muscles relaxing and I slumped to the floor. The last thing I saw was the raspy-voiced man's feet in front of my face.