The Theater
Stacey Miller
It was too early for anyone else to be at school yet. Shawn always tried to arrive early enough to make a stop in the bathroom. Today, as it was everyday, he looked into the mirror and realized that he could see himself reflected in the glassy surface. Why then, if he was visible in the mirror, could no one else but his teachers see him? Deep inside, Shawn knew that the others’ blindness was self-inflicted. They chose not to see him. Nevertheless, each morning he stopped to make sure that he hadn’t finally taken that final step to invisibility. Today, especially, he wanted to make sure that the others could see him.
He sat down on the floor beside his books and reached inside his binder. He pulled out the new toy he had purchased from the guy who lived on the corner of his street. It was cold to the touch. Shawn knew that Death lived inside it and as he held this precious object in his lap, he felt the power surge inside him. Oh, his classmates would see him this morning!
The bell signaling the start of class rang and Shawn placed his dark toy back into his binder. He put on his smiling mask and slowly walked to class. He was bumped into by m any of the students who were rushing to class. It no longer hurt him when the corner of a binder jabbed cruelly into his back or someone trodded on his feet. He was used to the physical pain of his invisibility. It was the emotional scars that refused to heal. He tried so hard to matter, to fit in, but nothing he did was remarkable enough to be noticed.
Shawn sat in his seat and placed his binder on top of his desk. He knew that his fellow classmates were finally going to see him today. Oh yes, today he had something in mind that would make all of them stand up and take notice! Finally, he had thought of a stunt that would make him the most talked-about student in the whole school!
His teacher stood and announced that today was the day they would present their projects on Classical Greek Theater. Shawn smiled. He had truly enjoyed reading Sophocles’ plays. Shawn loved the iron of Oedipus. Irony and satire were Shawn’s bread and butter. He had written many poems about the cruel ironies of life. His presentation was centered around ironies in the Greek Theater. He had only one example of irony but it was all he needed.
Finally, his teacher announced his name. Shawn stood up, carried his books to the podium at the front of the class and opened his binder. He kept his toy hidden under a sheet of paper. Turning, he wrote Ironies in Greek Tragedy on the blackboard, making sure that the chalk shrieked across every inch of the black surface. He faced the class again and saw that, even though he was standing right in front of them, the class was still blind. They fidgeted with their books, whispered to each other and wrote furiously on little pieces of paper. None of them were looking at Shawn. However, he wasn’t worried that they’d miss his presentation. His toy would make them see.
Slowly he lifted the gun from his binder. It felt even colder than it had in the bathroom. Shawn experienced a wave of power as he realized that he was about to show these puny kids that their lives were worthless.
Someone in the back of the classroom gasped. It was his teacher. Shawn smiled warmly at her as he lifted the gun slightly higher. The silly bitch in the middle row who always snapped her gum in class suddenly screamed. The idiot who sat near the back looked up, started to laugh, then suddenly stopped as he realized that the gun in Shawn’s hand was not a toy. This was no joke.
As Shawn looked around he saw fear and astonishment in the faces of his classmates. He looked closer and saw that, now that the students could see him, they were wondering who the hell he was.
Shawn pressed the gun against his head, feeling the bitter cold of the metal seep through his hair. He took a deep breath, smiled at the quiet girl in the front row, and pulled the trigger.
