cheeks gave birth to dimples the second a smile lit up her expression.
“ Where is she?” The roar returned, this time with purpose. Whatever it was, it was angry and looking for someone.
“ It’s her,” Sally whispered. “Mr. Roar-opolus is searching for this young thing here.” Sally pointed to the woman in the dress.
“ Oh no,” the woman panicked. “If father finds me, he’ll certainly take my life.” She stood and scrambled about. “I refuse to end on his terms.”
The young woman raised her hands to the ceiling. From high above, a rope gracefully descended. On the end of the rope was tied a noose.
Sally grabbed my hand and squeezed. I nearly laughed as I looked around to see every face in the room frozen with fear.
“ Father,” the young woman belted out. “It is for you that I sacrifice my life.”
She grabbed the rope and wrapped the noose around her long, thin neck. Once the knot was tight, she looked out at us and smiled.
“ I give my life, so that I may finally know true love. Some consider this an act of folly, whereas others can appreciate the artistic notion of what must be done. It is for him, that I die.”
The young woman’s arm raised and her pale finger pointed directly toward me.
Everyone in the crowd, save myself, gasped and whispered as they stared on.
With a single clap of her hands, she was yanked upward by the rope. The jerk of the line was so fast and so sharp, I was certain the woman’s neck would have been snapped. Instead, she hung from a rope whose end disappeared into nothing…and laughed.
“ Why do you deny me death? I beg of you, Father. If you cannot see to it to allow the end of my nightmare, then know I will attempt to take my life, every day, until I succeed.”
With that, the young woman reached up and loosened the knot of the noose. Once the hangman’s rope was wide enough to allow her head slip through, she dropped…about five feet – and then she stopped. Time stood still. I attempted to look around, but my head refused to move.
When my lips tried to speak out, no sound was produced; and yet, the young woman looked down at me (as she continued to hang, frozen, in the air) and smiled. I finally managed to force my lips to move and mouthed:
What is happening?
The woman nodded, closed her eyes, and slowly lowered to the floor. When her bare, delicate feet touched down, she stood in front of me. I could smell the perfumes of her flesh and hair. Not a word was exchanged. She simply stared into me and I into her. Something unsaid, unknown, was passed with the exchange – almost as if, with a simple glance, a graceful and unique seed was planted. She reached up, and with the most delicate touch, placed her fingertip on the end of my nose.
She blinked.
She disappeared.
Sally grabbed my attention.
“ Scott, what happened? Is everything okay?”
I had to stop and take a quick, physical inventory.
On the surface, everything was fine. Deep within the recesses of truth, I wasn’t so sure. No haunted house had the budget to pull off such incredible effects.
I grabbed Sally’s hand. “Yeah, everything’s good.”
“ Where did the redhead go,” Sally asked.
“ Didn’t you see what…just…”
It dawned on me; some maddening notion that the spectacle was there only for those willing to look between the lies and directly into the heart of madness. I was one such spectator. Not only was I willing to accept that reality is, in fact, relative, I had more disbelief to suspend than most.
Sally snapped her fingers inches in front of my nose. “Scott, what’s going on? Are you in there?”
Her voice pulled me from my reverie. I turned to her and could feel my eyes nearly bugging from my head.
“ Sally, I need you to…I don’t know how to say this without sounding completely crazy…when we go into the next room, I need you to watch the scene without the pretense of adulthood.”
Sally smiled. “Scott, sometimes I can hardly understand what
“ Where is she?” The roar returned, this time with purpose. Whatever it was, it was angry and looking for someone.
“ It’s her,” Sally whispered. “Mr. Roar-opolus is searching for this young thing here.” Sally pointed to the woman in the dress.
“ Oh no,” the woman panicked. “If father finds me, he’ll certainly take my life.” She stood and scrambled about. “I refuse to end on his terms.”
The young woman raised her hands to the ceiling. From high above, a rope gracefully descended. On the end of the rope was tied a noose.
Sally grabbed my hand and squeezed. I nearly laughed as I looked around to see every face in the room frozen with fear.
“ Father,” the young woman belted out. “It is for you that I sacrifice my life.”
She grabbed the rope and wrapped the noose around her long, thin neck. Once the knot was tight, she looked out at us and smiled.
“ I give my life, so that I may finally know true love. Some consider this an act of folly, whereas others can appreciate the artistic notion of what must be done. It is for him, that I die.”
The young woman’s arm raised and her pale finger pointed directly toward me.
Everyone in the crowd, save myself, gasped and whispered as they stared on.
With a single clap of her hands, she was yanked upward by the rope. The jerk of the line was so fast and so sharp, I was certain the woman’s neck would have been snapped. Instead, she hung from a rope whose end disappeared into nothing…and laughed.
“ Why do you deny me death? I beg of you, Father. If you cannot see to it to allow the end of my nightmare, then know I will attempt to take my life, every day, until I succeed.”
With that, the young woman reached up and loosened the knot of the noose. Once the hangman’s rope was wide enough to allow her head slip through, she dropped…about five feet – and then she stopped. Time stood still. I attempted to look around, but my head refused to move.
When my lips tried to speak out, no sound was produced; and yet, the young woman looked down at me (as she continued to hang, frozen, in the air) and smiled. I finally managed to force my lips to move and mouthed:
What is happening?
The woman nodded, closed her eyes, and slowly lowered to the floor. When her bare, delicate feet touched down, she stood in front of me. I could smell the perfumes of her flesh and hair. Not a word was exchanged. She simply stared into me and I into her. Something unsaid, unknown, was passed with the exchange – almost as if, with a simple glance, a graceful and unique seed was planted. She reached up, and with the most delicate touch, placed her fingertip on the end of my nose.
She blinked.
She disappeared.
Sally grabbed my attention.
“ Scott, what happened? Is everything okay?”
I had to stop and take a quick, physical inventory.
On the surface, everything was fine. Deep within the recesses of truth, I wasn’t so sure. No haunted house had the budget to pull off such incredible effects.
I grabbed Sally’s hand. “Yeah, everything’s good.”
“ Where did the redhead go,” Sally asked.
“ Didn’t you see what…just…”
It dawned on me; some maddening notion that the spectacle was there only for those willing to look between the lies and directly into the heart of madness. I was one such spectator. Not only was I willing to accept that reality is, in fact, relative, I had more disbelief to suspend than most.
Sally snapped her fingers inches in front of my nose. “Scott, what’s going on? Are you in there?”
Her voice pulled me from my reverie. I turned to her and could feel my eyes nearly bugging from my head.
“ Sally, I need you to…I don’t know how to say this without sounding completely crazy…when we go into the next room, I need you to watch the scene without the pretense of adulthood.”
Sally smiled. “Scott, sometimes I can hardly understand what
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