Undergraduate /
"Blue Eyes"- NYU Tisch Dramatic Essay [32]
Here's my creative submission revamped. Let me know what you think I'm gonna submit it in a few so would really appreciate any grammer or technical issues i should fix.
...and that's the lousy truth.The stage was black, eerie in a way that a silent, starless night leaves you wonderstruck. I looked over the brass balcony and saw the crowd still - as if they were all holding their breaths - waiting for him. This was it; I felt it in my gut. Tonight would be the end of it all and I would no longer search for him in every strangers face, or "check-up" on him online. No, I was ending this tonight. He stepped out on the stage and every fan perched on their tippy toes and tried to get a glimpse of that damned man. The room erupted with screeches as the lights leisurely made their familiar motions around the awaiting mass. At last, it settled on him and the screams grew to a crescendo. He strode to the microphone and began to softly sing - gently caressing his restless army with those captivating, blind words. That voice, I swear I heard it everywhere I went. I always searched for him but now that I was here, my heart would not admit that was him. My mind knew, it always knew, but my heart was heavy with denial.
Of course the first song he would sing would be our song. My heart pounded with regret, pain, and confusion. My walls were standing firm in place and I refused to fall into his clutches again. But, the memories from all of those restless nights that I sat up dreaming of him saying these words, flooded through me accompanying a tinge of hope. It was so hard to let go of what we had, but everything changed. This was not the same, and above all, he was not the same. I once knew every curve and shape of that face but now I felt as if I was looking onto a stranger. He wasn't the person I fell in love with, he was now a despicable comparison of his former self. I took a lasting glance as he got into the chorus and all the girls began to clap. Sweating palms, knotted stomach, and pounding head: even more confirmation that I could not do this, I was not up to it. I wanted to through up. I ran thru the darken hallway and rammed through the bathroom door in anticipation, stopping short at the mirror. This is whom he turned me into, I could not even recognize myself. Who was that girl that I saw that wore a grimace like a shield? Those green eyes that usually sparkled with happiness were stricken with a permanent look of lasting abandonment followed by a dreadful frown. I would not be this person anymore, I knew what I had to do and it was time to stop letting myself slowly drown in self-pity.
Swinging the door open with a new feeling of urgency, I was confronted with another one of our songs. He was pleading for me to stay, but nothing could give him that satisfaction that he so dearly craved. Turning away from his call, I plopped down on the two steps to the balcony and just listened. Nothing mattered in that moment; it was just he and I suffocating in his love, voice, and words.
Songs passed and I just couldn't take it anymore. Jumping up and treading down the winding staircases and into the dimmed foyer, I ran into a crowded mass. So caught up in my own thoughts, I did not notice everyone else slowly making their way out of the venue. Had that much time really passed? My heart started pounding out of my chest. Was I hyperventilating? No, I just couldn't breathe.
Suddenly, I was out by the tour bus surrounded by mounds of groupies in the late winter night. I couldn't remember how I got here. I was losing it, honestly losing it. I just had to keep reminding myself that all of this had to be done, even if it killed me. I bent my head and closed my eyes and tried to get a grip on reality. "Calm down and breathe. In and out. In and out. In and out," I calmly coached myself.
Taking one last deep breath, I slowly opened my eyes to be assaulted by a set of green-hazel ones exiting the venue. He looked happy, excited even but once he saw me the confirmation of our memories displayed upon his face - there was no denying it.
I stared daggers into his back as he conveniently made his aimless way through the crowd. "Was he avoiding me?" I thought. Every time I moved closer, he was actually farther away. "I'm so over this," I mumbled. I walked straight to him and he seemed a little taken aback by my forwardness but still held that crooked smile. I looked him straight in the eyes and let every emotion that I felt run through me straight to him. His smile dropped, "Hey..." Hey? That was all that he could say to me. I roughly grabbed his arm "Do you think we talk for a minute?" For a split second I swear I saw desperation in his eyes as they darted from the crowd to me. "They'll be alright for a second," I said forcibly.
The crowd watched like hawks as I pulled him over to the side. "Chris, what's going on with you?" His eyes danced left and right, as if he were looking for someone to save him. When he finally got the courage to look at me, I saw fright in those eyes and I was confused. Furrowing my brows "Did he think I was going to hurt him or something," I thought. Looking around I noticed a few of his band mates talking in a huddle conversation; something wasn't right. "Christofer! are you going to answer me?" I screamed. His eyes shifted to mine as words began to form on his lips. "What are you doing here? You know that you're not suppose to be here. I don't want to have to call..." "Call who?" I snapped. "What was he getting at? Who was he going to call? We were just talking right?" I tried to rationalize with myself. I gripped his wrist once again, just so he would look at me. "Don't you love me anymore? I've missed you so much. I drove for twelve hours just to be here with you. I want this to work." His whole demeanor changed and his pursued lips made an snarl. "That's the thing Emily, this isn't going to work. It never worked. You have to stop showing up at my shows and sending me messages on twitter. Don't you get it? I'm not your boyfriend. We never dated. I don't even know you." His words left me confused; I could remember all of those times we spent together, what did he mean we never dated? "What about April 22nd and July 21st, you came all that way to see me," I revamped. A look of pity washed over his features, "No, I came to do to shows Emily, not to see you. Look, we can be friends okay? I see that you really need someone right now so we can be friends, just let me grab something out of the bus." "Friends?" I thought, " I never considered us being friends, that means I did not have to let go completely. I twirled the thought around in my head, "Friends could really work." I looked up toward the tour bus window and saw Chris staring out at me. I waved furiously until I noticed he wasn't looking at me, but behind me. I was tackled from behind and my face made a hard impact with the pavement. I remember thinking, "Chris will visit me at the hospital", and then I blacked out.
"So Emily, that was the last thing you remember?" I tried to roll over to look Ms.Andrews in the face, but my chains cuffed to the bed held me firmly in place. I awkwardly nodded my head and tried to fight back the tears. I've been in this psych ward for over three months and I still didn't understand why I was there. My parents said it was suppose to help me cope. But cope with what? So my boyfriend was a little confused the last time we talked, but he was a chronic drinker. I dreamed of the day when we could walk down the beach on a warm, fall day. "Emily? Emily! Focus," Ms. Andrews screamed. "I think we're done for the day," I said as I closed my eyes, trying to remember the smell of his freshly lit American spirit cigarette.
Her chair screech in strong protest as she got up. I could hear the guard trying to find the right key to let her out. Her flowery perfumed washed over me as she bent down. "We're going to get you through this Emily, don't you worry", she said with confidence. She was extremely close and I knew this might be my only opportunity. My eyes snapped open as I pulled my thin, bloody wrist from my shackles. Her eyes widen but I broke her neck before show could even scream. I peeked out of the square fastened to the door and didn't see anyone standing watch. The guard had such faith in my good behavior that he didn't even think to make sure Ms. Andrews made her way out.
I scooted down the hall against the wall, trying to stay out of the view of the cameras. I felt bad about Ms. Andrews, she always talked about her twin girls and their amazing talents. She thought it helped but it only made things worst. My parents left me in this hell because they didn't want the burden of a "mentally challenged" daughter, as they put it. But I didn't mind to much. All I needed was Chris. I'm sure he was missing me and after all, I needed closure.
