I sat in a theatre room, excited for the performance we were practicing for months and months. Five hours of vigorous practice everyday made me feel ready; this was the time for the stage to give birth to a presentation that would entice the audience for hours. I was ready to become my character officially.
The curtain lifted. The cues were called, and the performance began. Music rang out across the empty space; people populated the scenes, and I came out in the open. Upon doing this, I had stumbled upon a horrifying realization.
Not only had I completely forgotten my lines, but I couldn’t ever remember studying for them. The months and months or rehearsals had never even happened, and I stood before the audience completely nervous.
"Hi. I um…don’t know my lines." I blurted out to the audience. Their eyes locked on me. Several of them smirked, and finally they began to laugh at me. My director looked at me, a scowl on his face.
Just then, a bunch of zombies began to crawl through the audience, eating all of those who made fun of me. Ah, zombies. Normally you’re the creatures from my nightmares, but tonight you’ve saved me from certain embarrassment.