Thank you, Mr. Robinson. You don't know what this has meant to me. I'll do my best!

I walk out of the backroom and into the lobby. As I walk out the door I pause - no bell - I'm reminded of a strange red-headed girl.

What was her deal? Oh, nevermind, you'll never see her again.

Emily made her way back to her dingy motel room. She looked around the room with recurring disgust. She googled the Beaumont Theater. It was closed down. Abandoned.

Why am I here? Mr. Robinson made a big impression and I'm about to go to a deserted theater at night. By myself. On someone else's whim? Am I really?

Emily knew the answer was yes.

Emily was so nervous. She hadn't felt this nervous since.. she didn't exactly know when but thoughts of fairies flowed through her mind. Why was that? She had some visions - or memories? ...when she met with Mr. Robinson. But she felt so... so euphorial. It was what she was used to... Oh, it was? And now, after her talk with Mr. R. (that is what she chose to call him), she needed to assert herself. And, so... uh. Well. Okay, brilliant idea!

Emily decided to dye her hair. Green. Why not? It would be a statement. But, would it cause undue attention? Lol from whom?

Fuck it! I'm just going to do it! And then I'm going to the theater and I'm going to be brave!

Emily looks at her reflection. Green hair. Okay. She is okay with it. She feels powerful for some reason.

She reflects on her talk with Mr. R. He seemed so clear. Go to the theater. But what then?

Emily takes out the letter from her father and reads it again.

He talked about their vacation home. In Maine. But... she didn't remember that. She came because he said to come. But it's so familiar.

Emily, remember the cabin. Your power lies within.

What cabin? What power? Where is this cabin?

The sun was setting.

Okay, I'm doing this right? I'm really doing this. Am I stupid? Am I crazy?

Emily heads to the theater.

Emily grabbed her purse and headed for the door. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the motel dresser and it stopped her in her tracks. She turned to look at herself.

What are you trying to prove? Green hair? How old are you, anyway?

Emily looked at her watch. She had time. She left her room and got into her blue Prius, then she drove to the drug store for more hair dye.

There, that's better!

Emily finished drying her hair - her hair which was now back to its natural color.

She looked herself over. She decided the khakis had to go! She changed into black jeans and a grey long-sleeved shirt. She grabbed her leather jacket just in case it got chilly later. She had no idea what she was getting into or what she would find. She may as well be prepared. She opened her wallet and removed her credit card and some cash. Then tucked them inside her bra.

She looked in the mirror again. Yes, this was exactly the look she was going for. This was a pretty "under the radar" look, which seemed like the best idea for some reason. She looked at her watch and felt a sense of urgency.

Okay, it's time.

She grabbed her keys and left the room for the last time. Tonight.

I feel like I'm about to do something... important...

You go through the process of dying your hair, pacing the motel room, then redying it back to the original color. Call it a weird way of working out your nerves, maybe.

Whatever's next for you, you know it's going to be big.

And for a second, you feel... something. Like a gust of wind right through your motel room, but the door and window are both closed.

Almost like magic. But unlike the magic you felt in the air at Robinson's this magic felt... wrong.
Dark. Cold. Deafeningly quiet.

You feel like you need to hurry.

Someone might be in trouble.

Emily closed the motel room door and walked to her rental car. She clicked the key fob and listened to the chirping welcome which seemed to say "Get in, girl." She suppressed a giggle at this as she personified the Prius in her head. She sat in the car and shivered a bit at the sudden chill in the air... not unlike the chill she had just felt before leaving her motel room. It penetrated her to her core, and left a lingering feeling of dread.

Dread for who? Me? Maybe. But definitely for someone else...

Instinctively she knew there was danger ahead - but not just for herself. She felt eerily confident but protective at the same time. And ... brave? Maybe she felt brave.

Alright, let's do this.

Emily pushed the start button and listened to the low purr of the engine. She felt comforted by the thought that, not only was she on her way to meet her fate, but she was also being very environmentally-friendly at the same time.

It seemed like only minutes had passed as she neared the street where the old Beaumont Theater sat.

It was literally only a few minutes. This town is tiny.

She pulled up and parked near the old landmark. Before getting out of the Prius, she surveyed the area. The theater looked abandoned from where she sat.

Emily got out of the car, put her keys in her pocket, and walked toward the front doors.

The Beaumont stands before you. It's hardly the kind of building you'd expect to find your destiny in. It's old and barely standing and there's signs of vandals and chaos everywhere. And you hate chaos.

But two things catch your attention immediately.

The first: The marquee is flickering. It's not a lot. It's dim, too, but there's definitely a light starting to come on, and for how run down this place is, that doesn't seem right at all.

The second thing: one of the windows is shattered, and the glass is on the ground right in front of it, as if that just occurred. And you swear that in the grim that cakes the window, you see smudge of a handprint.

There's a chill in the air, and you can sense that someone is in danger.

What do you do?

I look at the decrepit old building and take in the fact the marquee is flickering. My brain alerts me that something doesn't add up here. I notice the broken window as well as the hand print. Although I don't know for sure, I guess the front doors to the theater are locked. If not, why would someone break a window? Just vandals, maybe?

I decide I should investigate the possible entrances to the theater, including any back entrances. I walk to the front doors and try the handles. Each in turn.

[OOC: It sounds good to me.]

Emily rolled a 6 Plus 1 Sharp = 7