Shaken

Reads: 518  | Likes: 3  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: February 26, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 26, 2018

A A A

A A A


 

The boy searched frantically around his messy room, throwing aside clothes, paintbrushes and books in his quest.

'Where are those bloody tickets?' he thought.

Finally, he lifted the three slightly crumpled pieces of paper in the air triumphantly and gave them a kiss for luck. He rushed down the stairs, three at a time, and threw himself out the front door. His father was impatiently honking the carhorn as he waited in the driveway.

"What the hell took so long?" he asked in an irritated tone.

"Sorry" the boy mumbled in reply as he buckled his seatbelt. His younger sister shot him a smug look from the seat next to him, congratulating him on getting a scolding.

The theater was located in the next town over, so the journey would be about a thirty-minute drive. The boy looked silently out the window. He watched the landscape as it sped past them, ocasionally turning his head back to try to observe something in more detail.

As they neared the town, their car zoomed through the roads, almost going through a red light and narrowly avoiding three pedestrians, until they finally reached a small parking lot.

A few minutes later, the boy was racing along the cobbled streets of the small town. His father was running ahead, the little sister close behind. He wasn't very good at running. Moving as fast as he could to keep up, he ran over a small bridge which stood above a river. He glanced at the red, yellow and blue houses that stood alongside it, admiring their bold and bright colours. 

He faintly noticed more streets and turns and suddenly they were running through an archway. They reached the ticket booth of the old theater rather breathlessly, but happy to be there on time.  After showing the now slightly more crumpled tickets, they were let in. The family found their seats easily enough and sat down, waiting for the play to begin.

The boy had been looking forward to this for quite a while. He had seen posters, pamphlets and even articles in newspapers about the play, calling it "A brand new showtheatre experience!". His sister had only crumpled her nose and complained about the superficiality of showbusiness and the obvious superiority of sense over sensibility, though she still decided to tag along to the showing. Ran out of homework to do at home, he supposed.

The lights dimmed and the boy looked around the room.  Most of the seats were occupied by families, no doubt waiting to be amazed by the coreographies and the sparkle.

A gong sounded three times and the play began.

"It was very boring." his sister complained during half-time. "And completely historically inaccurate. Some of the effects were pretty good I suppose, but not good enough to save the show." 

His father nodded, adding "Why you made us pay that much for those tickets, I still don't understand."

The boy only chewed on his food quietly. It hadn't been that expensive. And he liked the play. It  was everything he had hoped it would be. True, it was also a bit silly and childish, but that was the whole point. To forget yourself and simply enjoy the moment, if only for a little while.

Suddenly the gong rang again and they hurriedly finished their food and returned to their seats.

Soon enough the play was over and the actors bowed to the audience. The boy sat up in his seat, applauding wildly, together with other members of the audience, and smiling from ear to ear. 

Suddenly, one of the actors stepped forward and motioned for silence. The boy sat back down in his seat, slightly confused. 

Wait.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

The actor started talking about all the problems that existed in their country, blaming the politicians, and accusing the people who didn't fight against them as accomplices in their crimes.

Please no, not again, not this too.

The boy felt his blood turn cold. A banner was lowered from the top of the stage, with the faces of  opposing politicians and extremists, who were currently jailed for their actions and claims against the government. The actor called the current leaders greedy, cowardly tirants and scoundrels, who would plunge the country into poverty and misery. The audience was clapping in unison. Again and again and again. The boy's mouth went dry. Some people were cheering. Even some of the children had joined in.

He felt his sister hold his hand. Her palm was sweaty. He looked at her face. She had a stoic expression, but he could tell by the look in her eyes that she was scared. She had gathered all their things, ready to leave.

He looked over to his father. He had an expression the boy couldn't quite read and his jaw was clenched tightly, but he nodded.

On the way back to the car, they were quiet. The boy's heart was still beating fast. He looked at the houses more carefully than before. He noticed that most of them had flags hanging from the balconies, and some of the people were wearing the sign of the movement. It seemed everywhere in the streets now, following him. He felt like eyes were staring after him, watching his every move. They walked faster.

The ride home was quiet too. There wasn't really anything they could say. But his sister hugged him, and he hugged her back. He sighed and they watched the last rays of sunshine disappear over the horizon through the car window.


© Copyright 2020 Mara Font. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

More Young Adult Short Stories