The Theater

I got up from the floor.

I looked at the ceiling, and it was white all the same.

No darkness.

I took the key from my pocket.

It had the number five engraved on the end.

I approached the chain.

I put the key in the padlock, and it opened without effort.

The chains fell to the floor.

And this was the last one.

I picked up all the chains and placed them in the corner of the room.

I went back to the door.

I turned the handle, and it was locked.

I sighed.

I heard the creak of a door behind me.

I no longer knew why I was continuing.

Maybe there was no exit.

Maybe I was going through the process of reincarnation.

Maybe all of this was a test so I could pay for my sins.

And I was only walking because I still didn’t have the courage to stop.

Who knows?

I looked at the chain on the wall beside the sink.

I should never have pulled those chains.

It was the right door closest to me that was open.

I crossed through it.

The smell was of aged wood and dust.

A long corridor with dark wooden floors and large red curtains covering its sides.

The path was illuminated by a dim orange half-light.

I could see the way, but it felt as if darkness surrounded my vision.

I walked to the end and reached a wall of red curtain.

I crossed through it and kept going straight.

As I walked, I felt as if the path was becoming narrower.

As if the curtains were growing around me.

The path turned right, and I followed it, passing through another curtain.

Revealing a large square space where, at the back, there was a stage, and in front of it, seats.

The stage was made of wood, and on both sides, there were two white marble statues shaped like angels, with their hands together as if they were praying.

The seats were made up of two rows of black leather armchairs separated by a path in the middle that led to the stage.

Very elegant.

A light from a spotlight on the ceiling illuminated one of the seats.

“How nice. I’m a guest of honor,” I said with a smile.

I sat in the armchair and got comfortable.

The spotlight went out and focused on the stage.

I looked at the stage.

The curtains closed.

The first sound I heard was a violin.

Followed by the accompaniment of cellos.

The music had a slow and steady rhythm.

The curtain opened, and in the corner, in the darkness, there were people sitting and playing the instruments. I couldn’t see their faces.

My attention turned to the light on the red curtain in the back.

An old man without hair came out from behind the curtain.

Followed by a woman, then a child and a man.

The stage started filling with people. Four more appeared.

They walked slowly to the middle of the stage.

All of them wore flowing fabrics. I couldn’t define the outline of their bodies.

Long dresses with faded colors, some cuts made by time, signs of wear.

It was as if they had kept and worn those clothes for years.

The people started dancing to the rhythm of the music.

Slow movements, but precise.

All uniform.

Until they started joining together and spinning, first in pairs.

Then in fours.

And finally, a large circle.

The fabrics flying with the turns.

It was a hypnotic dance.

Incredibly fascinating.

The spotlight drew attention to the back of the room, behind me, where more people came out.

A woman with dark hair, wearing a black dress, passed beside me.

Her flower perfume was familiar.

“Helena?”

She smiled at me and continued walking, dancing toward the stage.

Helena went up with other people, and they joined the others.

Taking part in the choreography.

The music started becoming more and more intense.

I was fixated on the dance.

Slow movements that moved the entire body in a rhythm that came and went.

My eyes were fixed on Helena. She was smiling.

She seemed so happy.

I felt a certain envy.

One of the figures spun between us.

Its arm crossed the spotlight and covered Helena’s face for an instant.

I didn’t know if the light was causing some kind of illusion.

But that arm seemed a little transparent.

The fabric passed in front of my eyes like a curtain.

I started to notice that all the people were shining.

But their bodies seemed more translucent.

First the hands.

Then the faces.

Then the necks.

The skin lost color.

The volume disappeared.

And beneath that elegant dance, the bones began to appear.

Even so, no one stopped smiling.

No one missed a step.

Everyone kept spinning.

Until there was nothing left but skeletons dancing under the spotlight.

The skulls gathered together and made a movement, calling me to the stage.

I refused and continued watching.

But they kept calling me.

Again and again.

And the music played louder and louder in anticipation.

When I stood up, the music reached its climax.

The skeletons extended their hands to help me up.

And I took the hand of one of them.

I started to become part of the movements.

Instinctively, I knew exactly how the dance worked.

As if I had participated before.

I kept spinning with them, to the rhythm of the music.

Until the music started getting lower.

Lower.

And disappeared.

The skeletons stopped dancing at the same time.

Silence fell over the theater.

I was behind all of them.

Slowly, one by one, they turned their faces toward me.

They extended their arms and pointed their fingers to the back curtain, illuminated by a spotlight.

They were waiting for me.

I looked at the audience.

The armchairs that had been empty before were now occupied.

I couldn’t see faces.

Only eyes.

Hundreds of them reflecting the stage light.

All looking directly at me.

Without blinking.

They were also waiting for my movement.

So I approached the red curtain in the back.

And started crossing through it.

The audience started clapping.

The smell of aged wood and dust disappeared.

The air became cold.

Still.

Silent.

And then I saw mannequins.