Page 12 of Escape

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumbled to myself.

On the wall above the door I’d walked through, a red digital timer appeared, flashing 60:00 and descending with the seconds. I was too afraid to find out what ‘or the show would never end’ meant, so I flipped back to the first page and studied the lines and stage directions carefully.

I quickly gathered that this little play was about a girl who had been betrayed by her best friend, ripped from her lover and shoved into a box by her evil husband. My mind filled in the blank faces, tears gathering in my eyes as the suppressed memories barely bubbled to the surface, blurred just enough to be hidden.

After learning the simple lines, I flipped to the last page, finding that the conclusion to the story was the main character finding out her husband did something horrible and she bursts from her glass box to kill him and free herself. A flash of me holding a gun to Jared’s head played in my mind. I shook it off as a voice boomed over the intercom.

“Ten minutes until showtime. Actors, in your places! And remember…give it your all or you might not have anything left to give.”

Chapter 10

Kel

I snuck into the performing arts room when Jasmine was distracted by the supplies I left for her on the stage and slipped into a seat in the back row, covered by the shadows.

I watched her in awe as she practiced. I wished my eyes could zoom in on the crinkle of her forehead and the slight pout of her lips as she concentrated. She was so perfect. My star.

I didn’t know how far she had pushed the memory of us out of her mind or if she’d just straight up forgotten, but I hoped this little method acting exercise would help her remember. I wondered if she remembered me in the front row, yelling and clapping for her as hard as I could while her ‘friends’ and shitty family didn’t bother to come to a single performance.

Even if she was just playing a tree with no lines, I was there cheering her on, because my girl played the best damn tree there ever was.

Even after our falling out, I was sad to see that she never pursued acting again. It was like the moment we were ripped from each other, she locked her true self up in a little box in order to please others and keep herself safe. I would’ve loved her no matter who she was or pretended to be, but I wanted to help bring her back to herself before I brought her back to me.

I glanced up at the timer. As it approached the 10-minute mark, I pressed the button on my little remote to play the prerecorded, 10-minute warning message.

I’d never harm a hair on my pretty little star’s head unless, of course, she asked for it, but I needed to invoke a sense of urgency. Fear. The tests were designed for her to win, but on the off-chance she didn’t…I’d be there to comfort her and tend to her wounds.

I watched as she fumbled through the box of props and costumes, picking out a shiny, red velvet robe meant for playing a king and a plastic knife for the big finale.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and shaking out her shoulders, the same way she did before every show in high school. It reminded me of the first time I’d talked her through her nerves, sucking deep breaths through my nose at the same time and shaking my body out along with her. I almost let a groan escape my throat as I remembered her lips pressing into mine before showtime.

‘For luck,’ she would say.

The clock hit 0:00 and the lights went out. I clicked the button for another one of my prerecorded messages to play.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats, silence your cellphones and enjoy this production of ‘ESCAPE’ starring Jasmine James.”

The lights flicked on at my command, a spotlight illuminating my star’s soft, brown skin. My mouth watered as she parted her plump lips, her tongue darting out to wet them.

From the first line, I was completely mesmerized. I was no award-winning playwright, but Jasmine could make a Tony-worthy performance out of a fast-food menu if she wanted to.

The passion and pain were evident in the shake of her voice and the jerk of her movements. I could have sworn I even saw a twinkle of a tear streaming down her cheek when she performed the scene where she was ripped away from her lover and again when she broke out of the invisible glass box. I wanted to run my tongue along her rounded cheeks, savoring the saltiness of her tears. Absorbing her pain as my own.

No, this is good, I thought.

I hated seeing my girl cry, but maybe that meant she was really feeling it. Maybe she was remembering us and how gut-wrenching it was when we parted. I wanted her to feel the agony again, followed by the power in breaking free.

In the last scene, she gripped the plastic knife viciously, dropped to her knees and stabbed the tip into the floor with a shocking force. Her muscles trembled as she brought her hands over her head and slammed them down over and over, stabbing her invisible husband until her body couldn’t move.

Her face was twisted with a dark, delicious vengeance. It made my whole body throb with excitement, particularly between my legs. I had to grip the seat armrests until my fingers screamed to resist the urge to relieve the ache. I’d been edged to the point of tears watching her since she arrived, but I could hold out just a bit longer. She was worth it.

Finally, her stabbing slowed down and faded. She sat back on her heels and stared at the blank space on the floor for a long moment before standing. She bowed low and I slipped from my seat, jogging down the steps to properly congratulate her.

Chapter 11

Jasmine

My hands throbbed where the plastic knife dug into them as I stabbed the stage floor. I didn’t know what had gotten into me, but for a moment, I could genuinely feel myself stabbing gaping, blood-spurting holes into Jared’s chest.