Life is not a rehearsal

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Editorial and Opinion  |  House: Booksie Classic
Thought I'd try write a short story.. And this is it?!

Submitted: August 04, 2014

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Submitted: August 04, 2014

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It wasn't long after Ivy had finished her final performance for the night before she was forced to realise just how little she actually knew about herself now it was all over. Her familiarities were replaced with insecurities. Her yearning for self discovery had lead her down the path of self destruction. The curtains opened for one more time and she savoured the final applause as the spotlight faded and she soaked in the atmosphere like it was her last breath of oxygen. The only life she ever knew since being on the road as a burlesque dancer had taken her as far as it could.  Everything she loved about performing and all the things that kept her from the mundane 9/5 schedules she successfully avoided for all those years, was now the most likely reality she faced. She could no longer play dress ups to feel a sense of belonging anymore. Now she had to hang up her costume and learn to dance all over again, not as the seasoned performer she had become but in real life as the woman she hardly knew. 
But who was she before she became Ivy? What did Ivy have that plane old Eva didn't?
She headed backstage dragging her heels across the wooden floor to the change room where an extravagant bouquet of flowers and a bottle of champaign awaited her just as she expected. A send off gift to acknowledge her dedication from the only real family she had known was meant to be comforting, but for Ivy it just seemed to sugarcoat her departure and add to the obvious ugly truth she was un prepared for. She rolled down her stockings and unclipped her wig as she stared in the mirror watching tears starting to well up in her eyes. In an attempt to wipe them away she smudged the mascara from her fake eyelashes across her face and lit up the smoke that was wedged between her teeth. The girls watched on like one of their sisters had died. Ivy grabbed the bottle of bubbly and the piercing sound of the cork popping open, echoed like a gun firing shots into the theatre. It was exactly what Ivy needed to snap her out of the slump she was in and she threw back her head and began skulking the champagne as if no one else was in the room. When the last few drops trickled down her neck she then threw the empty bottle at her reflection in the mirror and sat fearless as pieces of glass shattered onto the floor around her. Perhaps she thought this would be the quickest less painful way of saying goodbye to Ivy and the only way she could forget about why she created her in the first place. Coincendently it was all those years earlier in front of that exact mirror at the Doll House where a then sad and lost teenager was in desperate need to escape her adolescents. For the first time Eva worked out how to seek solitude in a world only of make believe. Ivy wandered how different life would be now and if she could survive without all the feathers and tassels. Without all the glitter and makeup disguising her identity. Even if there was only just a small chance that Eva would make it outside without the courage of Ivy, she didn't want to take the risk. So like a sailor that goes down with his ship, so did Eva. She reached into her bag and pulled out her lipstick to write a farewell note on a the back of a tissue then snapped off a red rose from the bouquet of flowers. As the adrenaline ran through her body so did Eva's quest for freedom. She picked up a chard of broken glass from the ground and in one clean cut she slit her throat and theatrically collapsed with the rose clenched in her hand. Eva's life was a rehearsal but Ivy had stolen her encore. 


© Copyright 2018 Shaye. All rights reserved.

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