The Movie Theater
by A. Nicole Thomas

Somehow, I find myself standing in a Movie Cinema, one with many different mini-theaters. I look at my hands and find a ticket and no memory of buying it. I glance around and find I am the only person here. I feel frightened. Soon I will find out this is no ordinary theater.

 I slowly walk down the semi-dark, empty corridor, looking around me as I go. I clutch the ticket tightly as if I might drop it. I see many doors, but I choose the one closest to me and cautiously open it.

Only one chair is in the theater, I sit down just as the movie starts. It’s a comedy. For some reason, relief floods through my body. Scenes of happy, hysterical, funny moments of one girl’s life pass before me. I see her grow from a child to an adult. Her smile is so beautiful. Her eyes sparkle when she laughs. All too soon, the movie is over. I stand looking sadly back at the screen, but happy to have seen some good times in someone’s life.

 Again, I find myself back in the corridor. I nervously look at all the mini-theaters I haven’t entered yet. It’s curious no titles appear above the door to announce the movie. I add that with the fact there is no one else around, only one chair in the theaters and realize this is no ordinary theater.

 Looking across the hall, I decide to enter that one. I open the door. The movie hasn’t started; I sit in the chair and wait. Numbness takes over my body. I’m confused as to why.

 As the movie starts, I grip the arms of my chair. Fear keeps me frozen in the chair as I watch scenes of rape unfold. It’s the same girl from the other theater. Tears sting my eyes at the savageness. The faces of the people causing the brutality on this beautiful girl are burned into my mind. I cry harder as each scene presents itself. The girl ages from a child to a woman just like before. She just takes it, makes no sounds, and sheds no tears. In each scene, her eyes find mine. From the screen to my chair, I feel her pain, I know her emptiness, and I hear her helplessness. Finally, the movie is over. I sit shaking all over. I hurt so much for her.

 Again, as if by magic, I am back in the corridor, trying to decide which door to pick and not sure I want too. Perspiration beads break out on my forehead as I try to make my decision. I reluctantly enter another theater.

 I sit in the only seat, as screams echo through the theater. I look around as terror grips my heart, seeing nothing I search the screen and find the source. A blonde haired man is beating the same woman from all the other theaters. I recognize him from the previous theater. He kicks her in the stomach. With each kick, he yells she is worthless, fat, and ugly. She curls into a fetal position in an attempt to protect herself.

 Like before, her eyes find mine. I feel each kick as if it is happening to me, cutting like a knife. I lose myself in her eyes feeling and hearing her silent cry for help. Her eyes tell me this is not the first time the blonde man has done this to her and it won’t be the last. Just as the movie is fading out, she reaches her hand out. I try desperately to reach her, but her hand disappears before I can grab her. I sit very still shaking violently. What is going on? Where am I? This girl seems so familiar.

 I am in the corridor again. I’m tired of this cinema and want to get out. I don’t want to see anymore. I don’t want to see this poor woman hurt anymore. I especially don’t like the feeling I get watching her go through her pain and suffering. Upset, I begin to open doors at random, not caring, just wanting to find the way out. I open another door and enter the room only to find another theater where the movie already started.

 I stand mesmerized by the screen. I can’t take my eyes off it, but I desperately want too. Before me on the screen, is a little girl about four years old laying on a red bedspread. Another person is with her both are naked. I feel as if I am suffocating. The older girl is touching the little girl. Our eyes meet, as the older girl puts her fingers inside the little girl. I feel I’m going to be sick. Terror and shame fill me. I run from the theater out into the corridor. Desperate for a way of this hell, I hurriedly open another door, rushing into the room, hoping for an exit.

 The movie is playing, it’s the same little girl only a little older. I try to run, but the screen holds me there. The little girl is in a laundry room with a boy, who is only a few years older than she is. He is on top of her and his hand covers her mouth. Our eyes meet, I run. Blindly, I run down the corridor opening doors and see the same little girl in different stages of her life. She is in pain. I am in pain. I keep running as if the Devil himself is chasing me. At the end of the corridor, there are 2 doors I haven’t opened.

I chose the one on the left, entering the room only to discover there is no chair or a screen, only the word ‘FUTURE’ on the wall. Something from deep inside me starts to build. It terrifies me. I run again into the corridor. There is only one door left. I grip the doorknob terrified and hopeful at the same time. Terrified of what I will see and hopeful for the exit I am praying for.

 I push the door open. The movie is playing, but it is different from the others. It looks like a mirror. I am on the screen. I see myself walk into the room and stand there. Suddenly, realization washes over and through me. It hits me like a tidal wave. The little girl…the woman…the scenes of their lives…no, I shake my head. NO, I scream as I sink to the floor. NO! I scream one final time. It echoes throughout the entire cinema. I see myself on the screen crying…on the floor shaking my head in disbelief.

 It’s me! The little girl, the woman, all those awful things are me! My mind…I’m in my mind! There is no way out. Fear grips me. I feel myself losing control. I start screaming like a wild woman. I’m completely hysterical. I rip the ticket into tiny little pieces, screaming at the top of my lungs the whole time.

 From out of no where, gentle arms wrap themselves around me. ‘It’s ok’ vibrates softly through my body, filling my senses. I open my eyes and find myself not in the corridor, but in my own room, in my bed…in my husband’s arms. I am crying hysterically trying to tell him what happened. He reassures me I’m safe and it was only a dream. He holds me until I am asleep again.

 I find myself holding the same ticket again, but this time I feel his arms around me. I am safe. I walk forward toward the different theaters determined to overcome the fear of each one. I am safe. These are scenes of my life…memories. I have to get through them to get to the future. I am safe. I place my hand on a doorknob, take a deep breath, and enter.

 © Copyright 2001 A. Nicole Thomas All rights reserved.

A. Nicole Thomas R.A. lives with her husband and two daughters in southern Indiana. Recently, she chose to pursue her love of writing and drawing fulltime. She writes poems, short stories, articles, and is an artist, as well. Ms. Thomas is also the Creator and Executive Editor and Publisher of Abstracts, a monthly online and print literary collection. She has published one book, 3 poems, 1 essay, and 1 short horror story. A member of several organizations and has won 3 awards. Her personal site is www.anicolethomas.com.