Dorian Gray

Dorian rode over to the theater in his hansom, clutching the letter in his hands the entire trip. He was hoping to be able to leave the letter in Sibyl's dressing room, and come back the next night to apologize in person and discuss their marriage. Once he made a promise, he intended to keep it. 1

When he arrived at the dingy little theater, the owner didn't rush out to meet him, as he usually did. As he entered the theater though, the little man came out to him. He didn't have any cigars to offer Dorian, or even a greeting for that matter.2

"Sibyl isn't going on tonight, and she says she never will again. She's sworn it off." He spoke to Dorian with a look of loathing on his face, and Dorian soon became resentful of his arrogance.3

"Really? What a silly thing for her to do, but women are always overreacting about some thing or other. I guess it's perfectly normal. As it were, I came to give her this letter. Please see that she gets it."4

"Sure, I will Prince Charming." Dorian handed over the letter, sealed with wax, and was about to comment on the man's impudence when a woman entered the room, her face covered in theatrical makeup and her fingers decorated with fake jewels.5

"Come to make this worse, have you? I should have known you'd come back to make one more parting blow at my dear daughter. Well, you can bet you won't be seeing Sibyl. She's already in a wretched mood and seeing you would only make her get more attached to you." Sibyl's mom said all this with a sneer on her face. Dorian found it funny that only the night before, this same woman had been telling him how perfect he was for Sibyl. While he thought about this she continued, "Honestly, I don't understand her, but I know what's best for her, and it isn't you!"6

Dorian couldn't believe a woman of such little importance was speaking to him in such a manner. She had no right to. "Are all women like you?" he began, "I know they all relish good drama, but to your extent? It's none of your affair, but I came here to simply deliver a message to Sibyl."7

The woman's eyes narrowed. She wasn't going to trust him, she knew what men were like. "Well she won't be receiving it. You can't break her heart any more than you already have. Leave, and take your letter with you." She grabbed the letter from the owner of the theater and handed it to Dorian in a rough manner. The owner continued to stare at the situation occurring before him. 8

Dorian turned to go, when a door opened nearby. All eyes turned in the direction of the sound until, from a side passage, stepped a young girl. She looked to be no older than thirteen, though she was almost eighteen. She walked slowly, wearily, as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. 9

She walked into the room in such a manner until she glanced up. Her eyes traveled from the faces of her mother and the owner, and landed on Dorian's face. Her eyes lit up and her whole expression became brighter.10

Sibyl ran to Dorian and she threw herself at his feet. "Don't leave again, Prince Charming. Please, I love you and I know I can act better than I did last night. My performance will be brilliant! Give me a chance I-" The girl was cut off as her mother grabbed her and pulled her off the ground. She proceeded to latch onto Sibyl with a great force, holding her back.11

"He doesn't love. He can't. Not anything. Don't waste your energy when he only came to deliver one final blow to your love, and I won't let him make it." She turned towards Dorian. "Just go!"12

Dorian's stomach gave an awful lurch at the statement this old woman had just made. He couldn't love? The image of the portrait filled his mine. He saw the sneer, formed the night before. The look of impartiality to its surroundings. That face didn't love. As he realized that was him, he saw the portrait before his mind's eye. It was a look of understanding, the kind that comes with impassiveness. He didn't care. He didn't love. And with this, he wouldn't put up with this woman. 13

Dorian's anger had risen, as it so often did as of late. This woman had to be taken care of, her daughter along with her. "If you would care to know," he yelled at Sibyl's mother, who was still clutching the crying girl in her arms, "this letter is not a 'last blow', as you so aptly called it. In fact, it's nothing of the kind. It's on apology and a proclamation of my love. Quite frankly, I don't know why I ever wrote out such a letter. You were right. I don't love."14

Dorian held up the letter and looked at it for a moment, contemplating its reality; thinking of things he had written in it. Words expressing his "love." Dorian knew now that he had convinced himself he loved her, he never really had. Her acting at drawn him to her, made him obsessed. That wasn't love, that was idolatry. Maybe he had been in love with the idea of loving her, and having her love; her being such a capable artist. That idea was dead. She had loved him, and fallen out of love with acting in love. She had had the real thing, and couldn't pretend. She stopped being an artist, and his dreams ended. It wasn't love. 15

He looked back at the girl cowering from him, and at the same time, struggling to get near him. She was beautiful and pathetic. He didn't truly understand what his feelings had been, and he contemplated this as he tore up the letter. 16

As the pieces fluttered to the floor, with three pairs of eyes following their flight down, Dorian turned around and walked out of the building for the last time.17

The owner and the mother would eventually leave the room, trying to console Sibyl, but she remained in the room. After a half hour, she crawled towards the paper fragments on the floor and picked them up, along with a chunk of wax showing half of Dorian's family crest.18

The parts of the letter she read were perfectly beautiful. She was sure that he loved her, and her Prince Charming cared for her. This thought comforted her the rest of that night, right up to the moment that she decided to swallow the poisonous makeup; the same she wore while playing all of her parts. She had been in love so many times, all for the show. Without her knowing it, she had lived the greatest show; the greatest tragedy she would ever take part in.19