The Show Must Go On! by P.J. Night

eye of Justin, the boy in charge of putting the set together. He was being extra cautious since the light incident and came out on the stage in between scenes to make sure everything was in order. Or in the case of the mess that was Carrie’s bedroom, disorder.
    â€œEverything looks great, Justin!” Bree said, tryingto take her mind off everything and focus on the fact that this was going to be a very good play.
    â€œThanks,” Justin replied, tightening a clamp that held two sections of wall together. “It does look pretty cool.”
    â€œNow that the window is in, it looks like a real room.”
    â€œCheck this out,” Justin said, slipping back behind the wall in which the window hung. “Tony, do the lightning!”
    Lights flashed on and off behind the window. The shutters whipped back and forth, slamming against the outside of the “house” as if the wind were blowing them during a storm.
    â€œVery cool!” Bree exclaimed. “It’s going to be great when an audience sees it.”
    â€œAnd we got the chandelier up and working,” Justin said.
    Bree glanced up and saw that the chandelier had been hung. It was dusty and covered with cobwebs. Its lights flickered on and off. She was standing directly beneath it.
    A wave of fear suddenly swept through her as she relived the moment when the stage light fell right nextto her. She took a step to the side so that she was no longer right under the fixture.
    â€œAwesome,” she said, regaining her composure.
    Bree walked to the side of the stage, where she spotted the top of a staircase that the crew had built. The handrails and the top few stairs disappeared behind a curtain offstage, giving the impression that a person could walk downstairs to a lower level of the house.
    â€œThis looks so real!” Bree exclaimed, gripping the handrails and looking down, almost expecting to see a real staircase. Instead she saw a soft mattress a foot below, there to break her fall in the play’s final scene. “You guys are good!”
    Melissa, who had run off to the dressing room after their scene, joined Bree onstage.
    â€œDoesn’t it look incredible, Lis?” Bree asked.
    â€œIt’s so real I’m almost scared!” Melissa joked.
    Bree smiled, but Melissa’s innocent comment reminded her of what had happened last week. She had tried to forget it. She didn’t want to ever tell Melissa about it, but now she felt like she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. She pulled Melissa away from everyone and spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.
    â€œThis is going to sound so strange, but last Thursday, before I went home, I heard footsteps.”
    â€œFootsteps?”
    â€œYes. Well, first I thought that someone else was in the auditorium.”
    â€œWell, that sounds terrifying,” Melissa said sarcastically.
    â€œIt was actually because no one else was in the auditorium. At least not that I could tell. And it felt like someone was watching me. Then, as I walked down the hall toward the front door, I was certain I heard another set of footsteps. Someone was following me. I could just tell.”
    â€œUh, we’re on a break, Bree. No need to continue rehearsing.”
    â€œNo joke, Lis,” Bree said, realizing as she said it how crazy this all sounded . . . and how much like the lines they had just rehearsed. “I’m not talking as Carrie now. I’m me. And I’m telling you that the same thing that happens to Carrie in the show happened to me the other day. Someone followed me home.”
    â€œDid you see anyone?” Melissa asked.
    â€œNot exactly.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, ‘not exactly’? You either saw someone or you didn’t.”
    â€œI caught glimpses, a quick peek of something, like a shadow moving in the hallway.”
    â€œBree, I think this creepy play is really starting to get to you,” Melissa said.