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Conflict: Murder in the Theater

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The play drew on towards it exciting conclusion. Alessa had been so engrossed in the ensemble below she left her seat and leaned over the balcony to get a closer look at the players. Her father had called something to her but the volume of the noise had drowned out his words.

On stage the players bellowed their scene. Their cries rang out over the pleading strings of the violins. Her heart was thumping with excitement. She clutched her hands tightly. Her palms were moist. The lights darkened further. The music broke to give way to tender notes of the piano. Alessa could have wept at the solemn song.

She felt a body slumping heavily against her. The blue ribbon that held her ringlets together was torn from her auburn locks. She looked back. She was face to face with her father. He was staring at her wide eyed, mouth open, dead. She didn’t scream. Her voice caught in her dry throat. Another body fell against her. This time it was her mother. All blood had drained from her face leaving a blue tint. She too was dead. In the doorway to the balcony was the silhouette of a man in a long coat. Alessa, stupefied, stared back at him like a young deer who had felt the deadly bullet of the hunter’s rifle. He raised his finger to his mouth and hushed her.

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