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Apr 27, 2019 03:39:05

Ice Princess -- pt 16

by @abrahamKim PATRON | 448 words | 1🔥 | 457💌


Current day streak: 1🔥
Total posts: 457💌
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For some reason the door was open. So I let myself in. I don't know why. I know normally I wouldn't have done this. This was me being lured. A door open on the side of the auditorium. 

I was scared somebody might see me entering and yell "Hey! You can't do that." Yet two seconds after being inside, a crew member of some sort walked past me like I was invisible. I looked up and down the long hallway and started to realize that nobody would freak out that I was in here.

I walked around for about ten minutes. Not a long time when I say it aloud, but those ten minutes spent walking around the auditorium felt longer than the several hours I'd spent in my room earlier this morning. 

As I tried making my way back to the open door that brought me inside, another door caught my attention. It was cracked open just enough for me to see into what looked like a black room. Not that there was no light, but that the whole room, floor, walls, and ceiling, were black. 

I slowly but casually peaked my head inside, half thinking there would be somebody there, but was only greeted by the humming of whatever type of standing lights they had setup there. There were two mirrors with chairs in front of them. Next to the mirrors stood a rack of costumes. 

I recognized the costumes from images I'd scrolled past on Facebook. They were the costumes worn in Moriah's play. I was inside their dressing room. I compulsively glanced back at the door that I'd entered this black room in through. It wasn't wide open, but I'd left it open wider than I'd found it. My feet started taking swift yet unhurried steps towards the door until I stopped in my tracks to look at a mirage of magazine clippings on the wall. Beautiful people. Ugly People. Hyperbolic make-up. And overlayed on top was a message written in individual letters, each of different styling, clipped from magazines as well. Underneath this mirage was a cabinet, which had a inconspicuous pack of cigarettes resting ontop next to an unlit candle.

I glanced at the door once more. Then I opened the pack. There was still over half left, and I don't know why, but I took one before quickly exiting the dressing room. 

I walked along the hall, turned a corner, and saw a windowed door that led outside. 

Outside, I put the cigarette between my ear and head and walked towards Baker Ave. with my hat in my hands. I looked around to see if anyone was observing me. Nobody was.

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