The ground reached us faster than the stream of light flashing over our heads. Our foreheads pushed together as she searched for my hand along the grainy concrete. Anticipating her to say something, my palm pressed against her lips.

I scanned her face, sending a message through the rhythm of my eyes as they moved from one side of her face to the other.

Don’t say a word or we’re dead.

She nodded as footsteps approached.

---

6:00 p.m.

Exam break.

We planned to spend the day at her new school. I hadn’t seen her in a year since she moved and I wanted to see how she’d been fairing. It obviously couldn’t be better without me. She went to the oldest school in the city so it was equipped with multiple facilities modern schools don’t bother to include. It had a band room, a cafeteria, a kitchen.

A theatre.

She already knew where I wanted to go first.

As she toured me throughout the institution, I couldn’t contain my excitement. My legs fell out of step with hers as I increased my pace and barely listened as she explained different aspects of each classroom.

Just take me to the room with a thousand seats.

Just take me to the room with the lights.

Just take me to the stage.

Finally, it was before us.

I sped towards the door and connected the the push bar- sending my body weight through the metal. The mechanism released, then suddenly contracted again.

Locked.

“Shoot, I guess the theatre isn’t open today.” Instantly, my lips puckered, eyebrows pinched together.

“I know, I’m sorry. Next time we can go after school or something.” Defeated, we tread back in the direction we came- nearly colliding with a cleaning cart. We took a detour around it and ended up facing a tight corridor along the side of the theatre entrance. Along the cream coloured walls were musical theatre posters of the various productions they put on. Without communicating to each other, we simultaneously turned and proused down the hallway. Mesmorized, my attention settled on a Macbeth playbill stapled to the board.

“Hey Liz. Over here” She nodded towards a handle-less door propped open by a wedge of wood. A crack of shadow spilling through. Confidently, she squeezed through, beckoning towards me with an outstretched hand. Peering behind me, I followed her – stifling a mischievous giggle.

It was as if the theatre was made of obsidian. We stumbled around, fearing to trip over an unknown obstacle. Flickering marbles of light sparked from across the room before a blinding screen of crystalline glare enshrouded me.

“Hey! Get your phone flashlight out of my face!”

Without apology, the beam left my face and revealed an empty audience of about two-hundred violet seats. We had walked right on the stage and barely filled the vastness of the floor. Thrilled, I turned my phone flashlight on as well and shone it throughout the space. Everything seemed eerie due to the lack of reflection and the silence settled in the air. After exploring the theatre, we noticed a wide threshold created by a split of the back wall of the stage. Curiosity overwhelmed us and we stepped into the light spilling onto the stage from backstage.

Personally, I had never experienced a theatre other than the one at FFCA, so to discover their backstage to include their entire drama room shocked me. Sets and props inhabited the space as well as a rakish wooden staircase, leading to an unsturdy platform with shelves of shoes and racks of vintage clothing. We scaled up the steps and stumbled over the uneven boards. On the right of us was a slightly lowered platform, furnished with two couches and a rocking chair. She went to lounge and I went right to explore their storage section.

The feeling of seeing different universes within your own is a transcending experience. Pulses of nostalgia and fondness sprouts in different parts of my body: fingers itch at the sight of the sorting hat, throat vibrates at the glance of a rose encased in glass, toes spring at the glimpse of fragments of a yellow brick road.

“Hey, look at this.”                                                                                                                             ” Hey, look at this.”

We laughed at saying the same thing and met at the middle of the stairs. She lifted her wrist to see the time and looked back up at me.

“We should go.”

“Yes. But I want to do one more thing first.”

~~~

Bursting in between rows, fireflies loose from their glass jar – we ricocheted against the seats and into each other. Everything seemed otherworldly and mystic- it felt right to be so wrong.

We were the Theatre Trespassers.

Stage Sleuths.

We were nearing the top of the auditorium when we heard someone enter the theatre. The ground reached us faster than the stream of light flashing over our heads. Our foreheads pushed together as she searched for my hand along the grainy concrete. Anticipating her to say something, my palm pressed against her lips.

I scanned her face, sending a message through the rhythm of my eyes as they moved from one side of her face to the other.

Don’t say a word or we’re dead.

She nodded as footsteps approached.

We held our breath. I assumed that the janitor had maybe heard us and came in. The steps stopped two rows away from us. Excuses and apologies wrestles with my tongue as I prepared myself to get caught. Footsteps again. Receding.

Darkness mixed with silence was the most frightening combination. I would never sleep again. The echoed click of the back door triggered my instinct to move as I grabbed my her hand. I pushed open the main door of the theatre and she followed me out.

We didn’t say a word till we were out of the school.

“Same time next week?”

---

Actual proof of the theatre I shall remain anonymous for obvious reasons:

 

feature image: https://gifer.com/en/Fbbu