It rained.
It seemed kind of cliché that it was raining, but that was the truth. She had spent an hour tracing the raindrops down her window with a trembling finger. Then, she closed the blinds and turned off the lights, leaving the room in darkness.
She trembled, hating the dark, hating that she was all alone in it. She hated that she might actually go through with this.
It wasn't just hate. She was scared.
She opened the music box slowly, knowing that the little blonde ballerina would spring up. The cheerful, quiet melody began its attempt to fill the emptiness. She pressed her finger down on the ballerina's head, feeling it spin.
What was it like, she wondered, to be stuck in a little box all of your life? The ballerina was neglected most of the time, but then expected to spring up joyfully and dance just to make someone else happy.
She dropped the music box, jumping at the crash it made. How was she so different from that little ballerina? No one cared. They only wanted her when she had her moments in the spotlight, spinning in the dizzying dance of her fame.
No one even guessed that she would have dark moments. They wouldn't expect anything. She was all alone in her dressing room. It was just her and the music box ballerina.
She turned on a small light, dropping to her knees. The ballerina had broken in half. Taking the top half of the small, plastic body in her hand, she stood up and turned off the light again. The ballerina was dead. now she would be, too.
She tried not to think as she put the ballerina's broken body down. She just had to do this without thinking about it. It would all be over soon.
The door opened and the light was flipped on. "Come on, Jessica," a cheerful voice said. "You need to get dressed. It's show time in a half hour."
Jessica turned and looked at the assistant. "Thank you," she said, a grateful smile coming to her face. "You came just in time."