Loss Art - Rated R

***Warning - This short story is pretty graphic and may sincerely bother some readers.***

Nate looked at Sarah. She was so excited, and that bothered him.

They were half way to the exhibit, and his stomach was already in knots.

Two weeks ago, Sarah had burst into the kitchen, unbelievably excited about something. She could barely contain herself enough to explain to him.

"I got tickets, Nate!"

He told the television to quiet itself, and he changed positions in his chair to face her. "Tickets for what?"

"For what? Tickets for Melanie Goodacre's gallery show. I've been trying to win tickets for a month!" she said, half eager about her announcement, half annoyed at his confusion.

Thinking, he could somewhat recall her telling him about an upcoming art show - though he couldn't remember why it was so special to her. He knew that was a problem, not remembering things she cared about.

"Oh yeah, that art show. You gonna bring home a virtu-painting?" He asked, half-heartedly.

Sarah scoffed.

"First off, it's not a virtu-painting art show. Second off, we are going."

He stared at her, unblinkingly.

"Don't look at me like that..." she started "... this means a lot to me, and you said that you would go if I could get tickets."

Had he said that? Vaguely, he could remember making some comment to that effect, mostly knowing (or hoping) that she wouldn't actually get tickets to whatever it was that she wanted to drag him along to.

"Right." he said. "Tell me about it again... I've slept since then."

Sarah rolled her eyes and ran to the couch. She was still excited, and he was thankful for that. He hadn't completely screwed things up.

"Melanie Goodacre is a pioneer, Nate." she began. "She's doing something that nobody has ever done before, and oh my god, she's amazing."

"Ok, so.. what does she do?" he asked.

"Get this, she does loss-art." Sarah said, beaming.

"Loss-art?" He asked, quizzically.

"Yeah! You know how in movies, they talk about how good of an actor someone is when you can believe their emotions? Melanie Goodacre hurts herself emotionally and lets people record her emotions so that they can see the humanity in her. It's so beautiful.. I've only seen it in pictures!"

He could tell she was let down with how unenthusiastic his response was.

"She hurts herself. Emotionally. What does that even mean?" he asked.

"They say that losing a child is the hardest thing that anyone can ever experience. Melanie raises project children and then loses them in front of the audience. It's supposed to be like this gut-wrenching experience. She only puts on a show every few years." Sarah said, almost shaking with anticipation.

None of this computed to Nate. He shifted his weight. "Project kids? What the hell does that mean?"

"Ok, so you know how some animals are raised just for food. Project kids are raised just for these performances. Melanie has them, raises them, bonds with them, and so then when she loses them - oh man, the heartache is real."

"That sounds pretty messed up, Sar. What do you mean she loses them?"

"You never know how she's going to do it. This is just her third show. The first show she suffocated the project kid with a bag. The second show she gave him a drink with something in it. They were saying on the tv this morning that this might be the most drastic loss yet. Can you imagine how much pain she's going to show us?!" she jumped off the couch. "And WE have tickets!"

With that, Sarah ran into the bedroom to do whatever it was that she did on week nights. Nate was left with his thoughts. None of this sounded right. Hell, none of it sounded legal. It made him somewhat sick to his stomach. He tried to convince himself that he must have misunderstood her or that it was some elaborate play where it just looked like someone got hurt.

---

Two weeks had passed and he had tried on more than one occasion to ask her again exactly what they were going to go see. She always met his questions with either frustrated indignation or an enthusiastic "You'll just have to wait and see. I can't wait to see you see her!"

And then there they were. It was the night of the show, and as they neared the gallery, he felt a lump in his throat when he saw how many people were lined up at the door.

After waiting in line, they made their way past the food and drinks. Sarah had grabbed a plate of organic vegetables and a glass of red wine. Nearly nauseous with nervous anticpation, Nate had passed on everything.

They took their seats.

Around them, Nate heard other couples and spectators making small talk. They all seemed eager to see what Melanie had planned for her show tonight. All around the gallery, there were banners and posters hung with pictures of a sad woman - crying in some pictures - looking completely distraught in others.

Under the pictures, the name of the show: Melanie Goodacre presents 'The Rush'.

Time passed slowly for Nate as Sarah tried to make small talk and reaffirm him to the amazingness he was about to see. Eventually, the lights over the fifty or so seats in the audience dimmed. All around him, people lowered their volume to a whisper, and then to nothing at all.

There was a nervous tension in the room. He knew he couldn't be the only one who felt it.

Eventually, a woman walked into the room. The seats around Nate erupted with applause.

He noticed that the woman was leading a shy looking little boy. He held her leg in with one hand and the bottom of her long sweater in the other. He was well groomed and looked like he had nice clothes on.

"Welcome to the show," the woman began. "This is Timothy. He's a bit shy."

The audience laughed. Nate looked around him. Everyone was completely engrossed in what they were seeing.

Quickly, a young man brought out a stool for the woman to sit on, and a bag that he sat on the ground. The woman carefully directed the little boy to a spot on the floor and sat him next to the bag. As she unzipped the top, Nate could see the bright colors of children's toys peeking out. He breathed a sigh of relief.

The little boy, Timothy, lit up when he saw what was in the bag. It was obvious he knew these toys well. He tore into the bag and began pulling out one after another. Nate smiled. Timothy seemed happy.

Melanie began talking about the little boy, though he never looked up at her. He was so excited to have the toys that he had completely lost whatever shyness he had when he entered the room. It was clear that these toys were comforting to him.

She talked about her pregnancy and the brief part of his life that the boy's father had been present. She talked about what it had been like raising him for the last three years. She told the audience funny little stories about things he had said or done. She talked about a scare that they had had one time when he fell off of her porch and split his lip.

The audience listened with bated breath. They hung on her every word.

Nate stared intently. She sounded like a sincere mother. She smiled through the funny stories, chuckled at the frustration of raising a child by herself, and teared up through some of the harder times. Nate asked himself if she was an artist or an actress. This boy was clearly a large part of this woman's life, and the connection that they had was almost palpable.

And then he noticed something.

As Melanie was finishing a short anecdote about Timothy dressing up like his favorite hero at his last birthday party, Nate noticed that she was starting to tear up.

Timothy continued playing with his toys, unfazed.

The feeling in the room had changed. Melanie's glassy eyes turned into real tears as her voice wavered. Timothy looked up at his mother and she reached down to tousle his hair. They smiled at each other and he went back to playing.

Melanie, fully crying now, finished her story as Nate noticed other audience members leaning forward in their seat - and then he saw the glint from her hand.

Without hesitation, she brandished a small razor in her right hand, leaned down, and ran it across the length of Timothy's neck.

Instinctively, he tried to pull forward as he gasped, hands flying to his neck - but the damage was done. A wave of red spilled out over his fingers, down his clothes, and across the toys that he had been playing with.

There were gasps from the audience. Nate couldn't believe what he was seeing. It had all happened so fast. Later, he would look back and realize that he had been in shock, but at that moment, he had been completely unable to move - frozen as a witness to the atrocity in front of him.

In his peripheral vision, he could see that Sarah had pulled her hands to her mouth in what looked like shocked horror. He started to turn to face her, though his attention was pulled in another direction.

On stage, Melanie began to wail. With the last of his energy, Timothy tried to push away - though he was far too weak. Melanie threw the razor behind her and picked his increasingly limp body up in her arms.

"No.... Noooo..." she sobbed as she held him close to her.

The audience watched, completely enraptured. From different directions, Nate heard both crying and heavy breathing.

He couldn't take his eyes off of the woman in front of him, though.

Her face twisted and contorted into distraught looking masks. She cried and she moaned. She ran her blood soaked fingers through little Timothy's hair. She looked truly broken.

Nate felt as though he was going to be sick. He grabbed the sides of his chair to help himself to his feet, though stopped when he noticed the flashes going off around him. He hadn't noticed the photographers entering, though there must have been eight of them.

From every angle, they took pictures of the mother on stage as she openly grieved the loss of the little boy she had just killed.

And then, darkness.

The light over the stage went out, and the room went silent. Nate could hear scuffling from the front of the room, though he couldn't see a thing.

When the lights came back on moments later, Timothy, the toys, and Melanie's stool were all gone.

Standing there, covered in blood with a tear-streaked face, Melanie stared at the audience.

Then, she bowed.

The room erupted in applause. All around him, people leapt to their feet, clapping and cheering. Nate saw Sarah furiously slamming her hands together, interrupting only to wipe the tears from her eyes.

He felt like he was dreaming.

The next hour went by faster than he could believe. Melanie left the stage and reappeared in clean clothes. She spoke to audience members and those not speaking to her milled around and discussed what they had just seen. Some ate. Some got more wine. Nate watched it all, lost for words.

As they left the gallery to return to their car, Sarah grabbed Nate's hand. They walked for what must have been three blocks in complete silence. Eventually she said "Well... What did you think?"

Nate stopped walking and turned to face her.

"It was beautiful. Tragically beautiful."