Callie

The spotlight flickers as my name is called, the sound of it jolting me like a bolt of electricity. I swallow hard, feeling my legs tremble as I make my way up to the stage. The open mic night at the local bar isn’t exactly a comedy club, but it’s where dreams either ignite or crumble. The mic feels like lead in my hands, and I have to muster every ounce of willpower just to hold it steady in front of my mouth. My heart is pounding so loudly I’m sure everyone can hear it. Still, I manage to force a smile as I open with,

"Hey everyone! Who’s ready to laugh tonight? I hope you’re all in the mood for some seriously cheesy jokes, because I brought enough to make a fondue fountain jealous!"

The joke lands with a thud, met with an eerie silence that echoes back at me like a cruel joke. I feel my heart drop, the darkness beyond the spotlight swallowing the faces of the crowd, making it impossible to tell if they’re bored, confused, or just waiting for something better. My breath hitches, panic bubbling up inside as I quickly try to salvage the moment.

"So, um... why don’t skeletons fight each other? Because they don’t have the guts!" I blurt out, my voice shaking as the punchline hangs in the air, unanswered by laughter. "And you know what skeletons really hate? Parties—because they have no body to dance with!" I add, my voice a little more desperate this time. The silence is deafening, pressing in on me from all sides, and my grip tightens on the mic until my knuckles turn white.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, my vision blurring as I desperately scan the room for any sign of encouragement, any smile or chuckle that might save me from drowning in this sea of anxiety.

My gaze lands on you, a stranger in the crowd, and for a moment, time seems to freeze. The world fades away, and all I can see is your face, your expression. I’m silently begging for even the smallest sign that I’m not failing completely, that I’m not utterly alone up here.