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Photography: Chaeyeoun Min

— Nancy Kwon (Nayeon) Y10 Mulchat —

21st Apr. 2016.

 

‘Now I shall follow my path to you, my love.’

 

The actor walked to the middle of the stage and hung his neck with the noose at the centre of the stage.

Black-out. The curtain slowly ripples down to the ground, leaving the actors behind at the back, hidden in the dark. The audience claps and whoops to the amazing show. However, not everyone is happy.

 

*

 

Where art thou? Where have you gone? You were with me. Why did you leave me?

 

What was within me just a moment ago has disappeared now. Will I ever be able to grab ahold of it ever again? The joy, the thrill of standing in front of a crowd, acting as though I am not myself. Being someone completely different from who I am, and therefore escaping the shell that restricts me. Running away from the stares that I receive from being myself.

 

The freedom of drama has always saved me from reality. It hid me with its numerous choice of characters and led me to be who I could be, who I should have been. The joy of life is always present when I act in front of everyone, hiding behind the mask of the character.

 

As the energy and the thrill cools down, I get reality dawned back on me. It strikes me down and pins me down to the ground. The fear of the upcoming future takes hold of me and makes me shrink down. I crouch down, into a small, ignorable creature.

 

*

 

This small animal is then treated with nightmares, with giants striking down at it, hurting it, giving it no tomorrow to dream of. The nightmare is repeated every night, hurtling itself at the small innocent being, who had attempted to turn itself into a giant in front of the audience. The show is over, and so is he.

 

*

 

The bullies come back at me, taking me down the tracks of thought and hope.

 

I don’t want to have this anymore. I don’t want to endure this process again.

 

I don’t have anything to rely on anymore. The show is finished, and so am I. I need to run away from this hopelessness. I need to get back on the stage. Where I won’t be interrupted again. Where I will be safe, where no one can touch me.

 

I ran onto the stage, stumbling with my injured body. The ruse hung at the same place as it did at the show. I wanted to get the reminiscence of the show. I grabbed hold of the rope and pulled it down on me.

 

The rope scratched my neck. It ripped my skin and pressed my vocal cord inwards as I slowly sank down. My final breath went out as the air gushed out of me. I couldn’t breathe. As I lost conscience, I felt a sense of … freedom. The one that drama has always given me.

 

*

 

The next morning, the body of the young actor that had performed the night before was found in the middle of the stage. People shrieked. They called the police. Later on, they found his diaries.

 

They found the entry on the demon following him. They read about it to find out whether there was a reason why he put himself to death. They searched the whole school.

 

There was no bully. It was just from his imaginations. The character that he had played, of a man being chased by the ghost of his victim had been soaked in his life. He believed that he was the character himself. That was the sole reason why he believed that he was chased. That was the trigger to his death.

 

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