Tomorrow

Soo... I've been studying today and I sort of panicked when I realised that I've not studied for English at all. So I went online to search for past year essay questions and voila! Year 2007, Question 5, Title: Tomorrow. Tell me what you think about it. =)
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As she lay amidst the rubbles with the dusty air coating the insides of her throat, all she could think about is a song by ‘A Chorus Line’. It starts with “kiss the day goodbye, the sweetness and the sorrows…"

Because that is why it is so dark in here, isn’t it? It is the end of a day and tomorrow… tomorrow she’ll be free. Someone will have found her by then.

The feel of the cool wood beneath her bare feet, the smell of a freshly painted stage, the mild sting of the harsh stage light on her eyes as she struggles to adjust her vision… Her head swims in the ocean of audiences before her, soaking in the light of admiration, the sweet luscious words of endless compliments. Her fingertips brushes the soft fabric of her immaculate satin gown – she is the Wicked Witch of the West today, and tomorrow she will be Ophelia in Shakespeare’s Hamlet and the day after tomorrow she will be Wendla in Spring Awakening.

The piano starts and the flurry of crystalline notes fall like snowflakes on the pavement. Out of the silence there leapt these perfectly formed and discrete notes, these multitude of cascading sounds that clash together magically, miraculously in harmony. She could close her eyes and soak the music into her soul; she wants to eat up the glissandos, she wants to lick clean the gorgeous throbbing arpeggios. But handsome, blue-eyed Alex is singing to her - in the guise of Fiyero he is declaring his love.  Her mouth parts on its own accord and out pours forth a current of lyrical melody, so sweet, so smooth and so infinitely enthralling that she herself is caught by surprise.

The duet ends and as Alex kisses her forehead the lights dimmed until she is lying in the darkness again. The excruciating pain that shoots up her left leg is over and numbness has taken its place. She is still there under the debris, buried deep in crumbling concrete.  Tomorrow, she promises herself, tomorrow everything will be well again. She will be saved, and the dream of singing in Broadway will never again appear as a figment of her imagination.

Tomorrow she will be Wendla, and Alex, her Melchior. And together, they will sing and dance in their secret meadow. She could feel his large, warm hand on the small of her back and on her neck as their souls are joined in the union of voices. Wendla will not die in Spring Awakening tomorrow, and Melchior will not suffer the loss of his heart. They will be together forever and ever and ever, for endless tomorrows.

With that thought her mind went black and she never had another thought again. It is the dawn of the morrow and she is dead, taking with her the death of her dreams. The world will never see her again, as Elphaba or Ophelia or Imogen or her personal favourite, Wendla. Alex will suffer the same fate as Melchior, but eventually someone else will take her place as Wendla. Someone else will take her place in Alex’s heart and the world will be right again. The pain of the family grieving for their loved ones who died in the bombing will ease with time. Their memories would fade. The world still rotates on its axis and the tomorrows will still come.

“Kiss the day goodbye, and point me towards tomorrow…”