Life is But a Stage

The stage lights flickered on, the red curtains pulled back as blade clashed against needles as long as one’s arm. One had to squint for a moment as sickeningly bright greens and yellows assaulted their eyes, all the world before them like a watercolor painting of forest in spring. It would almost seem serene, if it wasn’t for the invisible orchestra bringing the music to a crescendo and the offputting cactus monster the knightly hero was fighting.

“With blade in hand,” boomed a voice all around, like a god who descended from the heavens, “Sierra swallowed all her fear and rose to the challenge, fending off the needles with an elegance fitting of a ballerina, the same that brings the men and woman to their knees with awe!”

As if to accentuate his point, the knight, with her long brown hair flowing behind her, parried another batch of needles with ease, moving through the the needles with hardly a scratch. She danced around them- no, flowed through them like water, each movement natural as she approached the monster and struck with a flurry of blows. It groaned with pain, flailing about, more needles appearing where the knight struck, as if to keep her away.

“Such grace! Such determination! No hesitation! All to free the one who shoved her away, the girl trapped in the cactus of her own creation!”

Upon a closer look, the cactus looked vaguely human shaped, with spindly, rounded  fingers on arms that were far too big for them, no eyes, no mouth, nothing but a curtain of needles where Sierra struck. Sierra was hardly detered, leaping up and climbing those needles, stabbing and carving out what flesh she could. Her moves became less fluid and more frantic, her heartbeat amplified that all could hear.

“Gina!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, swinging off a needle to avoid the others that threatened to pierce her. “Gina, please, stop pushing me away! I want to help you! You can’t keep isolating yourself like this, it’s not healthy!”

A loud sigh escaped the Narrator’s lips as he said, “But alas, her words were left unheard! Gina’s heart had closed itself so long ago, as life became too much to bear. How else could she protect all she cared for from the bitter person she had become? What could keep such overbearing love at bay but a bed of needles?”

“Gina, listen to me!” Sierra cried out once more, moving more and more erratically as the calm gave way to panic. Her blade carved through cactus flesh, the pieces flying and splatting across the stage. “Listen to me! I know that everything looks dark, but we can make it out of the darkness! You just have to let me in! Please, just let me help you!”

“But what is a cactus?” asked the Narrator as the music reached a crescendo, as Sierra continued to dig through to the monster’s core with nothing but overbearing love to push her through. “A spiny menace that leaves needles where one touches… but what is beyond the curtain of needles? Nothing but vulnerable plant. Much like Gina: a vulnerable woman in the midst of dark times, protecting herself from further disappointment and shame in the only way she knows how. But if one reaches deep… if one could take her hand and yank her from the darkness she imposed upon herself,then perhaps-”

The Narrator is cut short as a needle pierces through Sierra’s armor, from her gut to the other side of her back. Her eyes widen as she coughs up blood, her grip loosening just enough so that she tumbled onto the ground in a heap. Weakly, she brought herself to her knees, trying to get back on her feet when the needles rain down again in a circle, trapping her in a makeshift cage.

When The Narrator speaks again, there is a hint of panic. “Caught off guard… caught in a trap. All hope seems lost, with words the only thing she could spare. But Sierra no doubt cared for Gina… They were fast friends, were they not? Friends from the very beginning, a friendship - or perhaps, love? - that could not be easily broken! Words were all Sierra could spare, but words would be-”

He was interrupted again as Sierra crumpled into a heap, sobbing loud enough for it to echo through the stage.

“I-I can’t do this! I… I’m not strong enough!”

She braced herself for the inevitible, for the rain of needles that would pierce her and end this tragedy once and for all. There was a snap, however, as the music came to an end, the lights all shutting off save the one casting a spotlight on her. There was a flash of green as the cactus monster known only as Gina faded away, a needle-shaped emerald left in her place.

From the rafters, like a Deus Ex Machina, a man decended, landing by Sierra’s side and looking down at her through his half moon glasses. His black cape flowed behind him, ignoring the fact that there was not even a breeze in the room. In his hands, he held a book wide open, carefully balancing it in one hand as he adjusted his glasses with the other.

“I’m not strong enough,” Sierra sobbed again, her hands and face wet with tears. “I… How could I help her when I can’t even help myself?!”

“You’re her friend,” said the man, his voice reminiscent of the narrator, but without his bombastic nature. “You’ve been with her so long-”

She turned towards him, her eyes red and still watery as she retorted, “But it didn’t mean a thing this time! I tried so hard to be there for her after all those rejection letters from schools, but she just wouldn’t let me help! She always retreated, always sat alone for days, crying, struggling to get anything done! I wanted… I wanted…” The words struggled to come out now as her throat throbbed with pain. “I wanted to do so much, but unless I can get her accepted somewhere, I’m just… I’m… I’m…”

A sickly aura rose around her, her voice distorting as she spoke. The man’s eyes widened for just a moment before he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“That’s enough for today, then. Go home and rest: you need it now, more than ever.”

“But-” Sierra started, only to stop when that pain in her gut made itself apparent once more. The man looked down at it and sighed, using his free hand to pull out a pearl from his pocket and hold it close to the wound Gina inflicted on her. It pulsed once, white sparks stitching things together until only a circular scar was left behind, all that pain going numb.

“There will always be another act, another time to bring a happy ending,” he said quietly. “But you must be well enough to handle it. Rest long and easy, even if that means merely watching the acts from afar.”

Sierra sniffled and nodded, taking her leave of the stage, leaving the narrator under the spotlight. He pocketed the pearl and glared at the script before him, as if that alone would bend the words to his will. He saw it, clear as day, what fate awaited her if he allowed the play to continue: the seed of despair would bloom in the star-struck maiden’s heart, unable to save her friend in any meaningful way. A seed that would bloom into a wicked flower, transforming her into a monster of her own design.

More puppets for his master to manipulate in the grand play she had in mind.

Yet again, his heart was filled with disgust. Yet again, he failed to twist the script. He was so certain it would work this time. Love and friendship triumphed over all! It was almost textbook! And yet, all he could do was barely, just barely keep one girl from turning into a monster the script willed her to be.

If he could, he would have thrown the book into a dumpster fire and watched his master’s ambitious burn out with it, cackling all the while. But he tried once, and the next morning, the script appeared at his side, pristine as could be. And those monsters… all he could do was contain them, keep them from turning the real world into a stage for tragedy. For he was just a narrator, an outsider damned only to tell the story from afar, rather than be in the fray himself.

He slammed the book shut, grumbling as he picked up the emerald and pocketed it with the pearl. “Damn script… Why can’t people just have a happy ending, for once?” he said to no one in particular. “I’m missing something… Was it my narration? Did I choose the right music piece? Or maybe I chose the wrong protagonist?” 

His heart stung as he said the last one, recalling Sierra’s breakdown all too soon. “Damn it, all this work and I’ve come no closer to ending this. Back to the drawing board for me… Maybe start from the beginning, find a fresh new face ready to conquer the stage.” 

He snapped his fingers, his eyes lighting up with glee. “Of course! A fresh new face to conquer the trials ahead, a journey of love vs hate! Hope vs despair! And maybe later down the line, when she’s feeling better, Sierra will finally free her friend from her own little prison!” He smirked, the light glinting off of his half moon spectacles as he added, “My, my, Erin, you’ve outdone yourself this time! What an absolute genius you are!"

He let the glee and joy build up in his heart before he boomed, "Let’s begin the search anew! Let us rise the curtain on yet another chapter of life, so that one day, they may close out to laughs and smiles than sobs and tears!”

He raised his hands up, basking in the light and smiling as the curtains closed, waiting patiently foor the day they would rise again.