The Tightrope Walker

Sometimes in life we are too afraid to go after our dreams and realise our true potential.

 

Some people do amazing things. They live life like a tightrope walker, high up in the air, threatening to fall. But they always walk the rope with precise grace, perfectly stable. Everybody is in awe. How can they not be? When you’re looking at someone from such heights it’s hard not to feel small.

Some people admire talent and others experience and wisdom. I, however, only had eyes for one thing. Courage.  It didn’t matter who the person was, what they had done or where they came from. It never mattered if they were a good Samaritan or an inspiring teacher. I could care less if they sang in the church choir every Sunday or bought their mother flowers on mother’s day. None of this meant anything to me if the person did not have courage. The strength to do the things I, myself never dared to.

Some people claim to win at life while others don’t.

Some people pass the finish line with a smile dancing across their face and a spring to their step. Others drag halfway through the race, their heads down and hearts heavy.

Some people are too afraid to even begin the race.

I hate some people.

 

It was the night of the big show. You could either win it all or lose everything. Like most things in life, the choice was up to you. Tonight are you going to be a star or clap from the sidelines? The choice was all yours.

I stood next to the curtain, shaking as the girl beside me entered the stage. My heart leapt to my chest, my palms sweating. I could leave as a hero tonight or as a joke. I kept reminding myself this as her skirts brushed the side of the curtain. Her stride was confident, easy.  I wondered if mine would appear that way as well.

That thought made me laugh. Who would give a damn what my stride looked like as I slouched on the stage to move the props once the act was finished and the lights were out? Who would notice as my trembling hands lifted a desk that was in act one from the stage and replaced it with a vase for act two. Tonight I wasn’t leaving as the hero or as the joke. Tonight I was leaving as a nobody.

The girl was on stage saying her finishing line. This was my cue, I braced myself. The lights dimmed and the audience let out a hearty applause, they enjoyed the show thus far. It was almost my turn, my heartbeat quickened.

I was just about to dash onto the stage to rearrange the setting when a firm body collided into mine. Falling to the floor my teeth clamped onto my tongue, the salty taste of blood filling my mouth. The curtain was swinging from where I had hit it. The entire audience was bound to see it swaying around recklessly. Great, my one job as a nobody and I had already messed it up.

I raised my eyes to see tall boy standing over me. It was Keith, the lead male of the play. The one who I had collided with. Wow, this night was getting even better now I had made a fool of myself in front of the one person I would give anything to outshine.

Keith had a natural spotlight consuming him. Maybe it was his great looks, confident persona or daring eagerness for life but whatever it was, Keith outshined everyone.  Where ever he went people stopped to watch. He was everything. He was the tightrope walker, the star of the show.

Keith was brave. Everything he did in life he dove in head first, fearless. Hundreds of people were watching, filling the seats of the theatre. Mothers brought their children, hot girls brought their friends, old critics brought their judgment.  They were all out there, eyes glued on Keith as he strutted across the stage. His voice projected to the farthest rows, never stumbling or stuttering over a line. When Keith’s one stage everybody is in awe, wishing that they were him, rushing to talk to him at the end of the show. They all want to hug and congratulate him. When I go on stage nobody even looks my way. I am an invisible man. It’s like magic, the theatre. For one scene there is a desk on stage and in the next there is a vase, no one even gives a second thought to why that is. No one realizes that someone must have moved it while they were sitting in the dark. All they notice is how Keith’s eyes twinkle with the lights.

I quickly regained my posture and, bending my head low, darted from the side of the stage. During my little tumble the desk had not been moved and the vase was still back stage. Time was running out, the lights would be up any moment and the actors would be expecting a vase.  My one job and I had failed. I was just snaking past Keith when his hand stopped me, grasping onto my shoulder in a strong grip.

“Are you alright?” He whispered in my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

I didn’t reply.

“Get out there,” he urged nodding towards the stage. “I’m counting on you, the production’s relying on you.”

Ignoring his protest I slipped under his arm and past the abandoned vase. I couldn’t even move the props. I wasn’t the one to save the production. That was Keith’s job. I was just a nobody.

That night I didn’t walk home as the hero. I didn’t walk home as the joke either or even as the nobody. That night I walked home as a failure, the worst fate of all.

As I dashed from the theatre I could only think of one thing. I wish I was brave enough to turn around and get on the stage.

That night all I wanted was for Keith to trip over the desk as he entered act two.

I wanted him to fall from that tightrope, just as I had.

Author's Note

Enjoy!

Reviews

[Seracies]

Loved it.
I liked how he hated the people for not trying, for failing, because he hated himself for not having the courage to do what he wanted, yet he still hated those who were better and did everything in their power to be the best. A perfect portrayal of the dynamic reality of human nature.
The beginning was good but it didn't pull me in at first, this line completely sold me and I was hooked the rest of the way through:

"Some people are too afraid to even begin the race."

I loved the line because it could mean so many different things and yet it still came down to that one single point, whether or not you are willing to chase what you want. I loved your imagery, and how easily I could relate to him, seeing how I've failed and had fears of failure and wanted so desperately to steel that spotlight. The constant reference of doing well in life compared to the art of a tight ropewalker was brilliant and beautifully done.

[John Morris]

This is beautiful; well written and it really grabs the reader. I loved it, well done.

[Jazzy]

Beautifully written!