Young Writers Society

The Puppet’s Dance

It was dark, and cold. I squinted my eyes hoping to find some sort of light in this abyss. The ground felt wooden or hollow as I pounded my fist. Feeling around on all fours I tried crawling but the further I crawled I didn’t seem to progress anywhere. A sudden ray of light shone in front of me, a ray I tried to reach. I ran to grab it, but the more I ran and ran, I never got closer. It taunted me. My breathing became heavy as I sprinted towards it. I felt a rush of wind that stung at my eyes and ears. A sudden sound grew louder, a sound of people clapping. Clapping? I thought. The ray of light grew; I closed my eyes from how bright it was. Then the light flooded the area and I could see where I was. The wooden floor was a stage. A red curtain was closed in front of me, deep red velvet drapes giving the feeling of a theatre. I bent over and clenched my knees as I tried to slow my rapid breathing. I felt nauseous; I shook from losing so much energy. My vision became severed and I started to lose the sound of clapping and where I was. Once again I was slipping into another black abyss to over take me. I felt someone push me gently to the ground.


**

I awoke, my head pounding from being so dizzy. I could feel me wanting to cry from hopelessness from being alone but I could not cry tears. Why could I not cry tears? I ran my fingers along my face. My face felt hard, hollow. It didn’t feel like flesh anymore but stiff. I stretched my hands out before me; they were wooden, like the dolls my mother used to give to me to play with. I was completely hollow except for the sound of my beating heart that I still had. Long strings dangled to the floor from my wrists and legs. I wrestled with the knot that seemed to tighten every time I tried to pull or rip the strings off. Good thing I had no feeling in my wooden body, the strings only left scratches from how hard I pulled on them.

“Let me free!” I cried loudly.

The tears never came but my heart sure hurt in my wooden body. The velvet curtains began to pull open, I looked up to watch as they elegantly streamed across, so smooth and perfect. I flinched as the bright stage lights shown on me. My strings pulled my joints tight as I gently started to dance along the stage. A ballerina’s dance; Moments I felt so beautiful as my stranger pulled my strings to turn and leap with such of a great dancer. A dance of sadness although it was, I was confused it started out so beautifully. He pulled my strings faster and tighter as the music became a little harsh. It was anger I danced now. The crowd roared, and clapped at my dramatic dance. It felt like now he was hurting me. He made me feel so beautiful at first.
Who was this stranger who has me? My leaps became faster; my heart beat rapidly to keep up with the pace of the strings. My breathing became heavy. I was tired, tired of this dance. It became a mockery as the people laughed at me, as I fell to the floor. The music eased, and the curtains began to close. It was quiet.

Finally I asked, “Who are you, may I ask?” My strings lap limply next to me. I looked all around. Any sign of my stranger would please me.

“My beautiful dancer, you are mine to showcase you to everyone,” he replied, with a voice that left a sting in the air.

Chill ran up my spine by how mysterious and creepy it was. Even the silence in the room didn’t approve of it, for my voice sounded like beautiful chimes compared to his.

“Is that why I am here? I used to dance so beautifully with you but you ruin me to the world, for I’ve hurt over you. I don’t want your help to dance beautifully anymore. I want to be set free of my strings.” I demanded.

I stood up scanning the theatre for any sign of my puppeteer. I was tired of being lost in his world, his world of chaos and corruption. The black abyss was tiring to go through, the dizziness from show to show. The people enjoying the dance and mocking me later, I was his show girl and I was tired of it. For I have a heart that beats for freedom. A chance to leap at my own pace, do a perfect turns on my feet, and to run my own show.
“Beautiful dancer, I’ve given you everything you need an audience to watch your wonderful showcase, to dance beautifully. You couldn’t dance without me you crippled little girl. You are worthless without my touch. Who would like someone like you?” he said eerily back. “We make each other I hope you understand.”
He laughed a raspy, sickening laugh. He enjoyed this. This obvious torture to his victim, and I was his victim. A game with my head, for I was tired of his lies. I am going to dance to my heart beat and gain freedom. I am worth more than a doll on strings; I’m going to prove him wrong. I don’t need anyone like him and how I used to need him, I fell into a trap. A game of his, and I was going to play his game my way.
“Where, may I ask, am I?” I asked nicely, tried not to get him too upset.

“We are at my grand theatre, and you’re the star of the show,” he replied, I could almost hear the smile come across his lips as he said so.

I began to shout, “I’m tired of these games! Where are you? Show me yourself you coward!”
I could feel the fury arise from within me.

“I’m all around here, my beautiful dancer.I can see your every movement,” he said in a whisper.

If I could cry, it would be that moment. I felt a long, cold finger touch the side of my cheek and breathing near my neck. I dared not to move. He was there and the pitch black abyss left me with nothing to see.
“You’ll always be mine,” he whispered in my ear, with a small chuckle and disappeared. I lay motionless trying to sleep into the dead of dark where I was lost.

**

I awoke again, my head pounding from a headache, my heart at a beating pace and even though I was still wood, I could have sworn I felt the cold sweat at the top of my head. The curtain once again opened for me. the sound grew louder of people talking. Maybe they’re trying to help me? The bright lights glared in my face and once again my strings pulled tight and the music started to play. He moved me elegantly, making me feel good about my dancing once again. The music began to fade to sadness, I began to fight against the strings, but my force was not enough to fight them. I twirled to my right, and I twirled to my left. Trying to get out of the monster’s grasp, I began to focus. I leaped at my own standard, breaking one string. I felt a rush come within me and I lost control as I danced as the beautiful dancer I knew I was. My strings became unattached as I moved my body to the beat of my own live heart. The people cheered in my victory. I was no longer mocked. I was no longer dancing in sorrow. I was dancing in my own joy. I ended my dance, and finally lifted my head to look at the crowd. I saw people’s faces. I saw my own mother’s face in the audience. She was crying tears of joy because I was no longer held against my will, but I was free. I saw color and light in the theatre. It was amazing. Red carpets, with plush seating, more red velvet drapes covered the balcony areas. Gold linings covered the cushions and the railings. People clapped with smiles on there faces and threw roses for me, I felt a tear run down my cheek as I was smiling. Did I just cry? I stretched out my arms and I was myself again. I was no longer a puppet of my stranger but a beautiful dancer, for I danced for freedom at the sound of my own heartbeat.