The Last Night

She gave one last glance at the mirror, nervously tucking that one persistently stray strand of autumn hair back behind her ear. She tried to pull herself up straight; shoulders back and watched as her posture once again feel back to a slumped position. How could she stand straight when she was so nervous? Wow, that pinched look on her face reflected her feelings perfectly, well either that or the lack of oxygen entering into her body due to the corset constricting her diaphragm and waistline. The stays in the gown were poking into her armpits; she rubbed the spot gingerly and then glanced at her watch. Sigh, another two hours at least before she could get out of this thing.
Why again did she want to be here? What was it that dragged her to this spot week after week? More importantly, why was that nagging feeling of needing escape enveloping her again? She was here, she looked the part and she had the pose perfect. Her mask was set in place. Inside though, underneath the mask, that was another story. Her heart wouldn’t stop pounding inside her chest and her hands kept wringing each other endlessly. She looked down at her feet; she hadn’t realized she had started pacing again. The worn patterns in the floor showed where she had treaded for so very long. Granted that today she was only walking in this continuous circle for a few minutes, but there were years of footprints residing here.
She stopped her obsessive nervous movements for a brief moment, her ears straining. She heard the music fading in the background. This was her cue to enter back into the grand room. She could picture it in her mind; all of the decorations were set up exactly to her taste. She knew every inch of the space. She also knew every person’s face; and could hear their voices resounding in her mind now. She could see their elegant suits and gowns, the faces full of anticipation and pride as they watched her perform; their very own beautiful puppet. She breathed deeply as she thought. The smell of cigars, ladies perfume, and the old musty smell distinct to the building filled her nostrils. This smell was one that she dreamt about, after all this time; it had become a part of her own scent. She tried to calm herself by thinking of the decorations again. The high ceilings in the grand room were accented by equally spectacular paintings on the west and east walls, each painting depicting a different scene. These pictures came with the territory, not at her biding, but she would have loved to be the owner of such amazing work. Her small touches though would not go unnoticed, even in the light of such art. Her giraffe statues and balloons were placed strategically around, sparsely but effectively enough to catch the eye. She wanted the room to look warm and inviting, a somewhat difficult task in midst of the dim lighting and light green walls. The bouquets of roses added to the effect though and made for a nice additional touch. She would carry one of the roses on her arm as she went about her part of the service.
She had succeeded at her mission and there was no end of the compliments. She was not surprised. She was good at her job and she knew it. They all knew it. She just didn’t enjoy it anymore, but that they couldn’t know. She could never tell them she desired to run free outdoors rather than be stuck in this place. So many thought she was privileged, she was to be envied. She knew if she didn’t find escape, she wouldn’t survive. She no longer saw beauty in the grand room, or in the gowns, or the faces of the people. She sought a different form of fulfillment, one that could not be satisfied here.
She rubbed her temples, tired of thinking, tired of admitting to herself the long denied truth that lay in her heart. Uh oh, the headache was coming back; it always did when she was stressed.
What was possibly making today so different? She had done this over a thousand times. She made her way back out to the main hallway to take her place in line behind the other girls. She smoothed the gown down as restlessly she waited and then began the march. Her mask was the perfect picture of a happy and dedicated officer. No one could possibly doubt her sincerity as she led the girls throughout their formations and routines. As the final strands of the old familiar hymns died out, she took her place at the front of the room, the eastern most point. She saw them all looking at her waiting for her direction. The next step was up to her. What she really wanted to do was tear off the beautiful crown, throw back the gavel and rip the gown, shredding it to pieces as she made her Cinderella exit. The difference was once she ran, she didn’t plan to return. Her crown slipped on her forehead as she gave in once again to the ones that were waiting on her. She pounded her gavel, signaling the beginning of the service, inwardly sighing at her own cowardice. Perhaps she would have the courage to run next time. The idea both thrilled and terrified her.
She got that chance three years later. She went off to college in Texas; and spent her time clouding her mind with other things. She left because it was a means of escaping; her goal was to attempt to forget where she had been before. She wanted to erase the beautiful gown, and the smiling mask from her memories. Her deepest desire was to be real for the first time; she no longer wanted to be a puppet of someone else’s choosing.
She decided it was time to go back home and see what was left for her there. While she was there she was given the opportunity she had been seeking to escape her past; the irony not lost on her that it was by returning that she found freedom. She finally renounced her past, renounced the gavel she once held and instead, grabbed firmly to the hand of one who promised her real and lasting love. She read the words that He wrote her in His love letter and knew that He offered peace.
She wasn’t able to tell the puppet-holders of her decision until a year later. She had to wait, calculating the time and manner in which it would be done. Finally, the time came. She wrote a letter, sending it off with a body of research she had done on the beautiful order she had been involved in. She knew for certain that this beauty was only skin deep, that inside of the organization there was nastiness, an evil that was almost incomprehensible. She wished to expose this reality to the puppet-holders. The letter was well-received. In it she told them of her new love and her decision to follow this love where He led her; choosing to not return to the Grand Room and all of its’ splendor. The puppet-holder contacted her again; telling her that she could come home and that she could return to the ways of the past if she so desired. She said, “ No, I will not return to what I did before. I will return bringing my true love with me and we will stay with you, but I cannot wear the gown or crown again. My crown is now laid at my love’s feet to stay.” To this statement, there was no response.
She is still waiting on a response from the puppet-holder. She has found her beauty growing in other ways now. The beauty now goes deeper than her skin, as she realizes that she does not need to perform in order to receive love. The strings that held her as a puppet are now severed and she dances her own dance for her true love. Only in time will the puppet-holders see the change and only time will tell what the end of her story may be.