Suspense Short Story – The Final Performance
Photo credit: dieraecherin from morguefile.com
“Lights… Roll camera… and Action!” I can hear the director as I walk down to my position.
A shame… This would’ve won me an Oscar.
“Your Honor,” the actor-attorney starts speaking. “Mr. Harmon here is accused of assault and premeditated murder of …”
I wait for my cue, with my face set to an anxious expression.
“What is your name?” the lawyer asks.
“Matthew Harmon.”
“What relation did you have with John Carson?”
“He was the guy my wife was cheating on me with.”
“Do you own a shotgun?”
“A licensed one, yes.”
The lawyer looks happy as he says, “Did you catch your wife with John Carson in bed-”
“That’s not your line!” I interrupt, turning over to where the director sat. “You’re supposed to ask about my whereabouts first.”
He looks confused. “I don’t understand.”
And they complain I forget my lines!
“I’m sorry-” he starts.
“You should be,” I interrupt again. I like interrupting him. He is really clueless. “You ruined a perfectly good scene!”
The judge strikes his gavel. “Silence!”
“Oh come off of it Adam!” I admonish him. “Just check the bloody script. He forgot his lines!”
The actor-defense-lawyer stands up and points at me.
“Your Honor, this was what I mentioned earlier. He’s not in a proper state of mind. As an actor, he used to ‘get inside’ a character which finally triggered an identity disorder when he found his wife cheating. We plead insanity.”
“What the hell?” I shout at him. “That’s not in the script!”
Two men appear beside me. They grab me.
“Mike, you bas**rd! It’s a joke right? Good one… Ha ha… You got me! Mike! Get these guys off of me!”
One of them injects a needle into my arm and everything turns black.
Ah well! It was a good performance… At least they won’t harass me in the asylum, right?
