She was wearing the most striking red gown. Long white gloves hugged her slender arms as she moved her hands fervently as she spoke to her gentleman friend. Her lively green eyes lit my life as she laughed. That soft luxurious red hair of hers was more beautiful than I’d imagined. She was most certainly much more beautiful, charming and so much more enchanting in person than she’d ever been in my dreams. There she stood, just steps away from me, right there in the foyer.

The play would begin the second act at any moment. When I’d first caught a glimpse of her those many years ago I’d never thought it was possible that we’d ever meet face to face. I never had the nerve. Now, all these years later. Now, I would do it. I had to. She needed me to.

I walked towards her, confident in my new tuxedo, tapping my cane as I walked. I was as good as any of these stuffed shirts. I walked directly in front of her, tipped my tall hat, smiled and handed her a note.

Her brilliant green eyes twinkled in the soft light. She smiled. She curtsied. I nodded to her gentleman friend, who had no idea who she truly was, the fool. I slowly strolled away, into the dark hall.

I had a drink sent to her box seat as she watched the moronic actors monkey about on stage. Foolish profession. She would sip the drink slowly, as though she were a true lady. Put her on stage and she would outshine all, not only for her beauty, but for her ability to make you believe.
Fortunately, as the bar keep poured her glass I was able to dip some potion in. He, as the others, were too busy or too self absorbed to see me do it.

Yes. She would drink it all down. She would leave to refresh herself, being that she would become too woozy and hot for her own comfort.

I waited in the dark corridor for her to emerge. I was impatient. I wanted to go in to get her, but that would ruin everything. I had to whisk her away without suspicion. How else was I to hide her away forever in my cellar?

Instead, a shriek. Her gentleman friend came running through the door pleading for help. Much chaos ensued. I believe the play even stopped. A doctor from the audience rushed in only to walk out shaking his heavy head. “So young. Such a mystery,” he said.

Her gentleman friend was practically carried away in hysterics. If they found anything, surely he would be blamed.

I was never to take my beautiful red head away from this world to protect her. She had already left it, to be an angel.

Linda Laforge is a contemporary celtic artist and creative writer. To see her portfolio and to read more visit her at: http://www.LindaLaforge.com

Reprint Info: Most of Linda's short stories, poems and articles are available for reprint provided the copyright notice above is included at the end of the article. If you wish to use a piece, please contact Linda for permission. She'll want to see a link to your site or a sample of your publication. Of course, she'd love to get paid where the opportunity is available! All writing must be left fully intact. Please make sure that the link to her site is live and clickable.