I have butterflies fluttering in my stomach, and excitement filling my mind. I walk up to the one manned ticket booth, made of glistering aluminum and bright red letters reading " Tickets." After I purchase my ticket and walk through generations of actors and actresses framed on the wall. Their pictures are in black and white, taken when they were children, but you can still find the ones that "made it big." I am in the one place that I will always believe is magical, Baytown Little Theater. Can you imagine all of your favorite fairy tales unfolding just a few feet from you? You can feel Annie's pain as a little orphan, and almost touch her as she cries for a family. Proudly hold your head up high after Peter Pan rescues Wendy from the evil pirates. Laugh as you watch Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb confuse themselves in front of Alice. There is nowhere else a person can go to see this magic ten feet in front of them and forget it is not real.
When I walk into the undersized theater I see approximately two hundred seats. Straight ahead of me I see the old, wooden stage that creeks when I walk upon it. Every board is a different hue of brown that was most likely discolored from the rearranging of the sets and lighting portraying different scenes. The cool concrete floor surrounds it. The concrete is splattered with stains telling of past misfortunes. The stage itself is only about ten feet long by eight feet deep. I sit down in my red, broke in chair. The material feels like sandpaper. The holes in the seats give birth to infant pieces of yellow stuffing peeping out. However, they still keep you warm when the air-condition blast it's winter chill. I look at the lights above me. Long, black, metal rods hold them up. Directly above the stage is a golden, heavenly light that reminds me of the light one might see when one meets God. On each side of the monstrous light I can see lights of yellow, red, green, and blue.