The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Breathless
by Suzanne Madron 

Beauty was fading. Once she had been able to glitter without applying any, her looks shone so bright.

Now, she applied a second coat to her dull and aging skin. No one had told her that her looks were only skin deep.

More shadow, more contours, more and longer lashes until her eyes sagged under their lids’ added weight. She couldn’t see a damned thing that night she stepped onto the stage for the last time, but the show must go on as the saying goes.

She ignored the painful crackling of her brittling bones as she felt her way along the boards in too-high heels. Her costume was heavy – too heavy. The headdress alone weighed more than all the other dancers’ combined and her neck protested. The feathers tickled her nose and stuck to the glued gems covering her face. She continued to smile, blind and barely able to move without pain in every step. She looked out over the audience and felt the thrill of being on stage, the footlights gleaming across her costume. How nice it would be to die on stage, she thought and stepped forward to greet the crowd.

Beauty took a breath – a shallow breath so as not to bust from the confines of her too-tight corset – and began to sing. The cheers of the audience turned to confusion and then dismay. She struggled to open her eyes a little wider to see what was happening.

The other dancers were screaming. Why were they screaming? Part of the audience was running for the doors and leaving during her performance!

Outrage filled her, but she didn’t dare move her head to look around, not that the lashes would allow her to see much anyway. The stage was too hot and she could feel the spirit gum holding the gems to her face beginning to loosen its hold. One by one the gems fell to the stage like sparkling rain.

It hurt to breathe, she realized. Every breath stung and the footlights were far too bright. Her lashes wept onto her cheeks and the glue ran into her eyes in a river of makeup and tears.

Beauty sank to the stage as each breath became shallower and shallower. She was tired. Had she slept a full night since she became an actress?

Why was the stage so hot? Beauty didn’t care anymore. Beauty closed her eyes and slept.

When the fire was finally put out, the stagehands were reprimanded for leaving the gas jets too high in the footlights. The dancers had swooned, and poor Beauty was gone in a blaze so magnificent and colorful that no one had realized it wasn’t part of the show until it was far too late to save her.

To this very day, there is a human-shaped, glittering scar on the stage boards where Beauty died.

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Fiction © Copyright Suzanne Madron
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

More from Suzanne Madron:

For Sale or Rent

The house across the street seems to go on the market every few months, but this time nothing about the sale is normal, including the new owners. No sooner has the for sale sign come down and the neighborhood is thrown into a Lovecraftian nightmare and the only way to find out is to attend the house warming party.

Available on Amazon!