Julia Rodinec

Block 1
Intensity Prompt
The Dark Dressing Room
It was the December of 2018; everything was going just as normal. We were all excited
for Christmas to come, even though it was the busiest time for our family. This was going to be
my 4th time performing in the nutcracker and I was so excited because I had finally gotten good
parts. I left the theater after my final performance to go see my family. Everyone was there with
roses and happy faces, but some of the faces seemed forced. I then noticed that my Uncle, Rich,
and Grandma weren’t there. I was confused especially since my uncle was one of my biggest
supporters for my dancing. I asked my dad where they went.
He said, “Everything is fine. It’s just getting late and they needed to get home before
dark, so they couldn’t stay after to say hi.”
In my head I didn’t understand, I mean how long does it take to say hi. I was confused
and a little disappointed, but I had no idea that this would be the last show he would see. There
was something that they were hiding from everyone and I wanted to know what it was.
A few months later we were going to perform Cinderella, my uncle was excited to see the
show like always. This particular day we had 2 hours between the two shows and all my friends
were going to go out to eat. I was waiting for my dad to pick me up in between the shows to
drive me to the restaurant. Everyone had already left the theater. I called my dad frustrated
because everyone had already left. Half an hour later he called me back. I was mad that he was
calling an hour later than he was supposed to be there.
I said, “Everyone already left, and I don’t have time to go eat anymore.”
“Can you just be quiet for a moment. I just finished Rich to the hospital. He might have
cancer. He won’t be able to go to your show.”
When hearing this news, I sank to the floor. I didn’t care that he wouldn’t be at the show,
I was just scared that I was losing the one person in my life that supported everything I did.
My dad worriedly said, “He might only have 6 months to live, but if they start the
treatment now then he will probably get better. Everything is going to be fine.”
I started to cry, and I hung up the phone. I ran back into the empty, dark dressing room. I
threw my phone in anger and just sat on the floor sobbing. It felt like minutes passed, but an hour
later my best friend walks in. She turns on the light to see my tomato red face, my crocodile
tears, and my purple eyeshadow smeared. She looks confused.
She says, “I am so sorry we left to go to dinner without you. We thought that you had a
ride and …”
I cut her off, “My uncle is dying!”
 She ran over to me and hugged me for what seemed like eternity. I told her the whole the
whole story. By the time I finished people started coming in and asking me if I was ok. Luckily,
my friend knows me well to know that I hate attention especially when I am sad.
She said, “Go to rehearsal and to mind your own business. There’s obviously something
wrong and she doesn’t need to constantly be asked if everything is ok.”
My friend spent all of the rehearsal time trying to cheer me up and fix my makeup.
During the show I couldn’t stop thinking about all the possibilities. And the thought of him not in
the audience made it harder. I got through the performance with the fakest smile. I was the last
person to leave the dressing room. I had gotten my mind off the situation until I shut the light off
and remembered the darkness of the room and the troubles to come.
As time went by it seemed that the treatment was working, but I could see him slowly
fading. I asked my parents if everything was going to be okay. They always responded back with
yes, even though I knew it was a lie. I could see the worry and fear in their eyes. Finally, in June
they told me the truth. I could see the tears start to form in their eyes.
“We’ve been trying different treatments, but none are working. We’re going to figure this
out, but things are getting worse.”
I thought to myself, well this is a great birthday gift. Why hadn’t they told me this
earlier? Were there other things they hid from me about this? We began to visit him every day, in
hopes that our faces would brighten his spirits. As the month went by, we saw that he wasn’t
going to last longer. We realized that my grandmas’ birthday was the next week. We said he just
has to make it through her birthday.
Sunday hit. My brother and I woke up to an empty, dark house. We got worried and
called my dad.
“Sorry we aren’t home. We had to take him to the ER in the middle of the night. Just stay
at home. Everything is fine.”
“Stop saying that everything is fine when it’s not.”
We hung up and my brother speeded down to the hospital. We sat there for what felt like
days, but was only minutes. They let us into the room. I saw him and faked another smile to not
make him feel worse. There was an awkward silence as my dad was trying to make a
conversation. When we were done, we all said bye and that we would be back tomorrow. We got
home so late that night but none of us could sleep. The next morning, we wake up to another
empty, dark house, but this time there were no cars that we could take to the hospital. We were
home for 3 days just trying to keep our mind off of everything by watching movies until we
crashed on the couch at 3. We would try to go to bed earlier, but the thought of the situation
wouldn’t leave our minds. So, we filled our minds with anything else just to help us sleep. My
parents came home late that night. I could tell in their eyes that everything was not fine. They
told us he died. It was my grandma’s birthday. He died on his mom’s birthday. It was hard to
cope with everything. I found myself reverting to sitting in the dark, just as I had that day in the
dressing room. The day where a series of events led to another until it became like dominos. One
after another.
On the day of the funeral, I sat there silent. Crying. Not the type like in the dressing
room. Not the crocodile tears. Just a single tear continuously streaming down my face slowly. It
didn’t even feel like I was crying. It didn’t even feel like he was gone. I sat there wondering
when all of this had started. Did it truly start the day I sat in the dressing room? Did it start when
I stood outside the theater during Christmas time? Did it start months before that? To this day I
still don’t know. As days go by, I feel as if he’s slipping away even more than when he was sick.
This past nutcracker I remember entering the dressing room seeing a rose by my mirror. The tag
said it was from my uncle. I remember a single tear falling down my cheek and then a rush of
reassurance knowing that everything was fine.

Explanation:
1. This memory of mine shows that sometimes people will try to hide you from the truth
thinking that that is what is best. This can lead to feeling like an innocent child, instead of
being told the truth the prepare yourself for what is next to come. My parents always told
the bad news on important days. This never made sense to me, but maybe they were
trying to mask the truth within a busy day or within a happy event to take our mind off of
it.
2. Story Arc:
a. Exposition: Normal, busy, Christmas day in the theater.
b. Inciting Incident: The next performance when I got the phone call outside the
dressing room.
c. Rising Action: When my parents broke the bad news to me about the treatments.
d. Crisis/Climax: The moment when my parents left to go to the hospital without
letting my brother and I know.
e. Falling Action: When my uncle passed away.
f. Resolution: Realizing that my uncle was in a better place and wasn’t suffering
from cancer anymore.