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She was having the nightmare again.
Except... what does one call a nightmare that occurred in reality?
A re-enactment of the truth, and, well, Hailey Austin's brain had always fancied theatre.
The blistering lights of the stage stretched along the hardwood floors, bleeding into her face and pulsing like a rapid heartbeat. Winding, the blinding lights pounded against the surface, like bright vines sprouting from an otherworldly source.
Jeers from the crowd could be heard. "Is she going to sing, or what?"
"She's just sitting there."
"Ugh, this is boring."
Mind-numbing static cluttered her ears and she could barely focus, but she still stood there, on the stage, stagnant yet shaking. Her voice slipped away, melting into the lights and the cameras. Pairs of eyes were littered everywhere. Everywhere.
Everyone is looking at me.
She heard whispers, insults, ignorant remarks. Laughter and annoyance laced in the confusion of the people in front of her.
But the voice she heard next was not one of the crowd's.
"Is this stage really yours, Hailey Austin?"
"I don't know," she would have said if she could speak. "Who are you?" she would have asked if not paralyzed with fear. Her thoughts were invaded by the buzz of the stage, setting her brain ablaze; it burned so bright, so powerful, so overwhelming that the flaming heat of it felt cold and the blinding lights felt dark.
"Is this what you were built to do?"
The stage's intense variety of hues unfurled in front of her, crashing together to make a vivid, messy blend; she stood there, petrified, as for the first time in her life, everyone was watching her as she fumbled, as she screwed up, as she stuttered, and as she stayed silent. She felt like prey, so small and insignificant when faced with such a greater force.
"To yearn for adoration of your craft, and your sound..."
The beating grew louder, louder and louder until it started to knock on her eyes, pound in her head, ring in her ears. Bugs scuttled... Ring... ring... pests crawling... ring... ring... it's loud, it's- the noise, it's so loud... ringing... ring... ring...
"... Yet never put it on display, in fear of those who you beg to love you?"
Ring!
Her nightmare dissolves around her, the colors melting into darkness and the stage lights flickering out as she awakes. Sweating, she rubs her pale face and turns over to her alarm clock. Cursing at it and turning her desk lamp on, she sighs, silently promising to never think about that day again.
But that would always be a lie, a failed method of protection. Because the nightmare wouldn't end, not even when she woke up.
So when she trudged out of bed on her sixteenth birthday, the anniversary of her middle school's talent show and that day where she broke down, smoothing her hair and putting on a pink blouse... all she wanted to do was crawl back into bed and fall into a dreamless sleep where she would never wake up.