Broadway Characters One Shots

moritz stiefel-spring awakening

The boy in the hayloft.

I didn't know his story. I didn't even know his name . All I knew is that night after the warm sun dipped past the hill near my home, he appeared in the dilapidated wooden shed right outside my window.

I first met him after I heard a loud, alarming noise come from the hayloft. My eyes flashed open as I inhaled sharply and anxiously beneath my blanket. My parents hadn't heard as I had, but my deafening intuition told me that whatever was in that hayloft was so incredibly important.

So I took a deep breath, lit the half-burnt candle lying on my bedside table, and creeped down the drifty stairs of my silent house. The early, dewy, spring wind formed chills on the exposed skin of my legs and arms, so I grabbed my fathers large coat and swung it over my shoulders.

I'll just step out for a moment, I thought, and see if it's some animal, or maybe it's just the shake of the wind.

I never would've thought that I as I shuffled through the grass in the moonlight, my life would change forever.

As I approached the hayloft with only the glowing candle and the sparkling stars guiding my way, the whistling sound of the wind danced through the large wooden building. Its song echoed with my beating heart, and with a confident push, I opened the door of the hayloft.

As the wooden door creaked intensely and revealed the pitch black interior of the walls lined with bales of hay, I heard a distant shifting noise. The only light being shed was the burning of my white candlestick, and as I timidly scanned the room with the light, I couldn't seem to find any source of movement.

"Hello? Is...Is there anyone in here?" I attempted to say as confidently as I can, but nothing.

Until, I heard a sharp inhale from my left. With a swift turning and a light gasp, I held the candle to my left.

I expected to see total darkness, emptiness, or maybe the light scurry of a field mouse. I didn't expect a pair of bright blue eyes to shimmer beneath the fiery light.

I jumped back with a shocked gasp, and my heart began to beat intensely like an echoing drum. The sharp dips and curves of the boys face shone in the orange light, and as my chest fell and rose quickly, I nearly began to scream with my eyes widened.

But the boy had other plans. He jumped from the cold bale of hay, and swiftly placed his hand over my mouth to prevent me from screaming.

His hushed, whispers of, "Hey, shh, it's okay!", didn't do much to relax my racing thoughts. As I looked into his eyes and felt the warmth from his body swirl with mine, my anxiety melted into timidity. "I-I didn't mean any harm, I...I just..." His words trailed off as he took his hand off my mouth.

The swirling butterflies fluttered through my stomach as he backed away with uncertainty and nerves in his eyes. With the candlelight shedding shades of orange and yellow between us, I finally see the picture of the boy in front of me.

His bright blue eyes sent shivers down my spine, and when he smiled a nervous, small grin, dimples formed on his blushing face. His body stood nervously in a loose white dress shirt, navy shorts, and knit socks haphazardly rolled down past his knees. Messy, brown waves of hair framed his face and small pieces of dry hay clung to him.

But the thing that stuck out about him was the dark purple mark on his sharp cheekbone.

As the wind blew into the hayloft, I wrapped my fathers large dress coat to cover my figure dressed in a short, white satin night gown. I couldn't seem to form words when I studied the boy. He looked my age, if not older, but I'd never seen him before.