Performance Night.

The performance was phenomenal. I went there. A great crowd awaited me. The children awaited me with their icicles and with their black stares.

I decided yesterday not to fear the cold. Make the cold your warmth and embrace it and maybe your mind can make it your warmth.

The play was amazing, in my opinion. The Director didn't have much to say. He had nothing to say, being a frozen statue of warmth in one of the rows. The children piled into the seats and listened. The other members of the cast were all now like the children. Perhaps the cyan-faced one reached out to them, maybe they're just part of my imagination. All I know is they were excellent in their performance and they helped me so well in my delivery.

I enjoyed being evil. When I was to light the scarecrow on fire, instead the cyan-faced one appeared beside me, giving me a grin that was warm and loving, even while it chilled me to the bone. Then he pointed a finger at Mitch and suddenly, Mitch was a frozen statue in a silent scream. This continued for some time. The boy helped me along every step of the way. I felt in place as the witch. The costume was the icy dress that I saw before. It felt comforting now that I did not fear the cold.

Then the play was over. I thought I, perhaps, saw a glimmer of my parents in the back row-- no, they were two more children, sitting side by side. A girl and a boy. They smiled upon me with greater love than my parents ever gave. Maybe that was why the boy reached out to me. Maybe that was why I felt so cold.

It doesn't matter.

I need to go onstage soon.

We're having another encore performance. We perform, sleep, eat, and have an encore. It must be the sixteenth or seventeenth, but I don't mind. As long as I'm well fed and well rested I have little to worry about.

The show must go on.

I Can't Go Back...

Okay. That's it. I don't care what happens to me. It seems that it's being around the theater or being around Aaron that makes me warmer. But I can't go back. Not after what happened. It's hard to explain. Aaron stopped by to pick me up again. Thankfully, my dad's at work and my mom's commuting in Boston. They're not around much. I don't care. It means I have the house to myself.

But when I got there and saw the sets, I froze in place, and everything got cold again. The backdrops were replaced with snowy fields and huge, icy monolith things that towered in the air. In the center, at the end of a large road of slick, blue ice, was the Emerald City, glowing a brilliant blue. Then I saw that the director had finally gotten my costume in. I looked and saw it- a whitish, almost icy blue dress, with silvery white shoes and white face makeup. I almost threw up. Aaron didn't seem to notice. Neither did my director. The other actors-- I don't know about the other actors. I don't notice them at all anymore. And then I saw my wand... my witch's wand was a sharp, blue icicle, down to the sharp murderous point. I was shocked. I mean... oh God, I remember it so vividly, but...

I asked the director about this.

"What's the matter, Kelly?"

I told him.

"But, Kelly, I don't know what you're talking about. The set and the costumes are as they always were."

I was going to reply to him, tell him 'No. It couldn't be. My costume is ice blue and the wand...' I was going to pull out the wand when I saw it was a black, slightly tapered stick. Just like it was supposed to be. I blinked a couple times. Then I was going to talk to the director.

Then everything went black.

I heard the pitter patter of little feet.

The giggling.

I saw the fog pooling around me.

The snow accumulating somehow.

Then the face of the cold child smacked into the box above the audience seats, staring down at me.

I ran. I ran all the way home.

My mom isn't coming back for another hour.

I can't go back.

And it's only getting colder.

Alone

It's getting colder. So much colder than before. I missed practice today. Didn't feel like going. Felt too cold. Feels below freezing. No matter how much I try to cuddle up in my blanket, or if I turn the heat up, or no matter how much I try to warm up, it's all cold. It got worse when I found out I missed the first part of practice. But that's okay... I wasn't planning on going anyways. Now... what the fuck. What the actual fuck. It's snowing outside... what is it, early November? It's too early to be snowing! Hang on, let me check outside

oh god.

oh god oh god oh god.

It's one of them. Those creepy kids I saw earlier! The one with the icicles! He's going up to my front door.

...

Fuck this. I'm not going to wimp out. There's a few knives in the kitchen. If need be I'll defend myself. Wish me luck.

...

Well, that was dumb. It was Aaron. He said he asked the director if he could swing by and check on me! I'm not sure, but he was also making me feel... warmer, I guess! I guess there wasn't snow... but that... I don't know what to make of that. I guess it's just some weird fucked up thing like that one scene at the theater. Oh, hang on, he's calling for me.

...

Fuck.

I hate my life.

We were having such a nice time. He asked me how I felt, and then I told him... some... of the truth. And he tried to talk to me more about it, but I refused. We ended up hanging out, chatting, talking about plays, life, school... I haven't been to school in a while. The school calls sometimes, but my parents are lenient about that. They think I should stay home to "cope with whatever's troubling me" or some shit. Which reminds me, my parents... had they not been out for a party in uptown Dayton, I'd be in so much trouble for having a guy over.... but I digress. We were talking some more when I saw, in the window, the boy. Not the kid with the icicle, but the white-haired, blue-skinned boy with the crack on his face. His face was pressed right against the back window, staring at us with his bruised eyes. When I saw him, I screamed. When Aaron tried to comfort me, I told him to leave.

He must think I'm not well. Fuck, I don't think I'm well.

But I don't know if it would come after him the way it comes after me.

...

it just got colder...

Cold

This... this rehearsal. I don't know what. It was weird.

I don't feel like typing this. But... I don't know, it kind of eases things. I woke up today. The blanket did nothing to ease the cold. It almost felt like the cold was a part of me. I tried taking a hot shower, but... well, it started getting really cold. I mean, freeze-you-to-the-bone cold. Yeah.

Then the room started misting up, like it usually did when I took a hot shower. But there was no way this shower could be hot. Then the glass pane started steaming up or getting frost on it... I'm not sure which one. Then, I heard a kid laugh, then I heard- and saw- letters forming in the steam/frost/thingy. They were backwards, but I could barely make it out...

"LITTLE MARY TOOK AN AXE."

I wondered if it was one of my younger siblings, Tanya and Ben. I didn't see who it was, but thankfully the pane was too clouded to see anything or I'd've thumped which one it was on the head.

I dressed in time to drive down to the community theater. It got much warmer when I entered the theatre-- much more welcoming I guess.

The rehearsal was fantastic, at least at first. I've had so much fun and everyone seemed to be brighter and cheerier than before. It might just be because everything else today seemed so... cold. Only one time did I feel cold at all during the performance. It was the end of the practice and the cold was coming back. Really bad. I went to go get my coat and Aaron walked with me. We talked for a minute, then the mist started forming. I thought the fog machine they had in the back was... turned on somehow.

"What? Where'd this..."

Then I heard something like the crinkling of paper. It wasn't. I looked behind and there was Aaron. I was so... I was terrified at the time. I didn't know what to do... so I ran. I ran past the doors with my coat. Everything was a thick mist. The director was frozen in his chair, papers spilled out everywhere, frosted over. I picked up one and looked at it. It said...

"LITTLE MARY TOOK AN AXE.
GAVE HER MOTHER FORTY WHACKS."

I ran then. I don't remember how long it took- it felt like an eternity. But I was only able to make it to the parking lot when I saw them. Children. Lined up and down the road. With icicles, with sharp, stabbing points at the ends of them. They smiled at me. In the center was a young boy, with cyan skin and a crack down his face. He didn't have one of the murdercicles, but he was the most terrifying of all- especially his eyes. They were pitch black.

I was about to scream when Aaron suddenly burst from the door, calling for me. I turned to look at him, surprised he was okay. I turned to face the boy with the crack down his face again, but he was gone. All the children were gone. The mist faded away into nothingness. Aaron told me the director saw me head down the stage and exit through the door in an almost panic. I wanted to tell him what I saw but... but I can't.

It would sound so stupid. I don't know what that was.

Maybe a vivid daydream. But I remember it as though it really happened.

...I need to get more sleep, probably.

Yeah. ...yeah...

-Kelly Desmond.