Under The Tent Top (COMPLETED)

One

MY eyes remained closed as the swing lifted my feet off the ground. The lights as always were blinding. 

The crowd's laughter and drunken glee began to fall to silent.

Spot light.

My feet delicately crossed at the ankles. I stared at my methodically shined legs as they floated above the scratched hardwood tent floor.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Samil stood in the middle of the floor. A sly grin spread across his face, one hand tucked under his regency vest, on his chest, the other extended out as he bowed. His voice smooth and filled with power. "I present to you - Miss Nightingale."

The lights waved around the crowd as they oo'd and aah'd. My arms extended in rehearsed movements - out towards them, fingers gently laced with the air as the floating seat danced above the crowd. Cheers erupted.

Samil's pit band flowed in unison with the song and my swing. The soft melody drew a whisper from the audience and I fell into an automatic trance.  And I sang.

Lights down.

Eyes watch.

Stay still.

Stay still.

Darling you are worth a little more life.

Darling you are worth a little more lies.

The swing lowered, my bare feet gently touched the floor. Picking up my sheer skirted costume, I stepped forward as rehearsed. My hands softly reaching out towards the crowd.

Stay still.

Stay still

Lights down.

Eyes shut.

Don't say much. Darling don't say much.

Darling you are worth a little more lies.

Darling you are worth one more night.

Darling you aren't worth one more life.

Darling you are worthy just tonight

End it with a bow.

~*~

I sat in the small closet designated as my "dressing room". I stared at the scratched mirror nailed to the old wooden wall. My eyes felt heavy - begging for the three night's of sleep my body had missed. Ignoring the pains of my body I fiercely pinched my face. The glitter on my cheeks became harder to remove with each night.

"Nightingale-" The door creaked open. "My song bird, where have you been?"

I turned my eyes meeting the ring leader

"Hi Samil." I whispered.

He leaned in a pressed his dry lip against my forehead. "You did fabulously my darling. Now come on out. The party is waiting for you."

My mouth mimicked a smile. "Give me a minute, I'm just trying to remove my -"

"Leave it on."

I continue to scratch my cheeks. "It's beginning to irritate my skin."

"Leave it on, darling."

I smiled, but proceeded to dip a loose cotton ball into alcohol.

Suddenly Samil's rough hands grasped my wrist. "Leave it on." He growled.

I quivered, my fingers grew numb - letting the cotton go. I nodded in submission.

A smile fell back into his face. "The glitter makes your skin look extra golden, darling. I just want you to be beautiful for the crowd my song bird."

"Yes, Samil."

The old door closed behind him.

Leaving me to stare into the scratched reflection of my glittered face.