God, I was so nervous. My hands were shaking and Jack's words of encouragement did little to sooth my nerves. A woman called my name. My stomach did a back flip. I didn't know whether to be excited or run and hide. I took a deep breath and walked up the five wooden steps that led to the top of the stage. I gave some information about me to the casting directors. I opened the folder that had part of the script from the play. (I didn't have a monologue, so they offered that for me to read.)

In five minutes, I finished my audition. I took a shaky breath, thinking they didn't like my acting. Then Jack stood up and began clapping loudly, whooping and hollering. Everyone else soon clapped, too. Jack's eyes were gleaming as he beamed at me; I smiled back. I turned my direction to the casting directors: they looked pleased. I curtsied and exited the stage, hurrying my way over to Jack. He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me. Josephine was asleep in an old stroller.

"I know you'll make it in the play," Jack said. I nodded, still smiling. We walked home. I wasn't required to stay any longer unless I wanted to. They would send a letter in the mail in two weeks if I made it. I couldn't wait.

~ (Two weeks later) ~

` I walked down the end of the path to the mailbox. We never got any mail, but lately I've been checking it every day, sometimes twice a day, seeing if I got that letter. Today was the lucky day. I opened the worn black metal door and inside of the box sat a single letter. In the top left corner there was the theater's name and address; in the center were my name and my address. My eyes were wide. I ran up the slight slope and entered the house. Jack was washing some vegetables we had bought the previous night. Josephine was playing with an old rattle across the hall.

"Jack, I think I made it," I said, breathless. Jack's face lit up as I said the words.

"Well open it!" he said. I tore the envelope open and almost ripped the letter in half as I tried to get it out. My eyes quickly scanned the paper.

Dear Ms. Dawson, the letter said. We are glad to inform you that you have made the lead role in our play, The Last Night, as Evelyn Monroe. Our rehearsals will begin Thursday evening at seven o'clock sharp and last for one hour. During this rehearsal, the cast will get to know each other, become familiar with the play, and receive schedules. Congratulations again, Timothy Cast, founder of the Chippewa Falls Theater.

I threw my arms around Jack's neck and hugged him tight. I was so happy! Not only would I be able to accomplish one of my dreams, I would get paid for it, too! I would be earning money—me! Jack slipped the letter out of my hands, wanting to read it for himself. After reading it, Jack's lips crashed into mine. Soon, I ran out of air and unwillingly broke apart. I walked across the hall to Josephine. She was sitting up and watching out the door, curious. I scooped her up and spun her around. "Mommy's going to be in a play!" I told her, kissing her forehead. My smile got bigger, if possible, as I called myself her mother.

Why am I so happy? The thought came out of nowhere. I was ecstatic because, for one, I was in a play and I was a working woman, earning money myself. I realized, fully, that I was free from Mother, free from Caledon Hockley. I was free from the bonds of society. I wasn't trapped anymore. I was free.

Today was the day of my first rehearsal—if you could call it that. Today we were just getting to know each other and receiving basic information, as the letter stated. I walked there alone, since it wasn't very far, just a fifteen minute journey. It took Jack some convincing, but I wanted Josephine to be at home and there was nobody else to watch her. (Jack didn't have any neighbors. The nearest people leaved in town.) Fifteen minutes later, I arrived at the tall brick building. Taking a breath, I opened the doors and walked inside. There was only one person in the hallway. He directed me to where I was supposed to be. I found my way back stage after the maze of corridors, barely making it in time. I took my place on one of the chairs that sat in the circle. It was the only one left.

"Congratulations, you all. You're the lucky few who made a spot in this play," said the director (and founder) Timothy. "Several of you are familiar faces, but some of I do not know." His eyes rested on me, then moved on. "To start with, we'll have an ice breaker. Everyone will say their names and a few facts about themselves. Rose, you have the lead role, so you will start us off."

My cheeks flushed. I didn't want to go first, but I had to. "My name is Rose DeWi—Dawson. A few things about myself? Uh, let's see…I've wanted to act since I was a little girl, when my mother took me to see a play on Broadway. I have a wonderful"—I debated which word to use for Jack. Boyfriend? Fiancé? Husband?—"boyfriend, Jack, and an adoptive daughter." Should I tell them I was on the Titanic? I thought. After some consideration, I thought, Just tell them already! "A-and I was a passenger on the Titanic." I looked down at my hands. Why did I tell them that? Now they're going to be all sorry for me and pity me. I don't want that!

Nobody spoke for a few minutes, but then Timothy broke the silence. "We're sorry to hear that, Rose."

"No, it's fine," I assured. Nobody I truly cared for died on the ship, unless you count Mr. Andrews and…oh, God…Trudy. Trudy was my one shoulder to cry on these past few rough years, the one to turn to for advice, my friend. And I hadn't even given her one thought since I talked to her last on the ship.

"Then let's move on." The person to my left began speaking. He was the man who would play my character, Evelyn's, love interest. His name was Anthony and he had been acting since he was seven. Everyone had their turn and then we received scripts. We read through them quickly, even acted out some scenes, and then got the rehearsal schedule. Exactly an hour later, right on time, the rehearsal was over.

I pulled my coat over my shoulders and began fastening it when Anthony came to me. "It's dark outside," he said. "Can I walk you home?" Figuring he was just being nice, I accepted.

Is there anything I can do to improve my writing? Are any of the characters OOC? How's the story overall? Let me know in a review, please! (If you do, you get a cookie…a virtual cookie. Any flavor you want and I'll send you one.)