Throat Chopping Good

TW-Graphic violence, blood, injury, death, stage accident, trauma response

Looking from the wings onto Fleet Street inches away from the opening night act 2, the streetlamp flickering on the edge of your face as the last audience members enter the auditorium to be tortured once again. Mrs. Lovett nudges you in the side as she walks to her beginner call position. The ushers shut the curtain, no exit doors in sight. 

The chords echo around the theatre as you wait. The ensemble sits as Mrs. Lovett and Toby entertain. You head up to one of the royal boxes and enter and watch the ensemble acting drunk. Mrs. Lovett notices you and gestures to you. You roll your eyes. You sing your duet and you storm out. You run through the dark halls of the theatre with only emergency lights to guide you. 

You stand at the stage entrance, the stage crew passes you your prop knife. 

“It’s been fixed.” 

You nod as you enter, looking at your fellow actor. You straighten the barber cloak over him and brush him with the foam as Mrs. Lovett and Toby sing. You put the knife to the actor's throat and slit the prosthetics. Red spurts out, the actor grabs their throat. You stamp your foot three times, but then you see it, the dark spots of red on your hand digging its way into your skin. Making the memory last, your body starts to shake as you look into the knife at the sky. The audience claps as the lights fade on you whilst Anthony enters. 

You rush over to the actor, pulling the prosthetic away and see the blood pulsing out. You look at your hands. You look around and try to get the crew's attention, but they are all watching the Beggar enter and starting the smoke. Mrs. Lovett sees you and enters and looks at his throat. She helps you carry him off. In her Mrs. Lovett voice, she bellows, “First aid now!” The crew jumps into action. I shove the knife away. Mrs. Lovett sits next to me as we watch the Beggar and Anthony finish. 

The director enters the stage with a microphone. 

“We as a cast hope you have enjoyed the show. Due to unexpected circumstances, we have decided to end the show here. Please speak to the box office.” The curtains close and you turn your head to see the guy slowly getting paler and paler.  

The ambulance finally arrives and checks him over. Police arrive next as the ambulance sews his throat back up. They pause. 

“Dead on scene.” 

You fall back and, possessed, you walk over to the police and put your hands in front of them. They look at you confused. 

“You aren’t blamed for this.” 

“But but,” you splutter. 

Just then, another officer arrives with the props man in handcuffs. They leave the theatre. You head to the stage with the ghost light and light it, hoping that your dream life hasn’t just ended.