The stage is dancing in colours of twilight; blue smoke curling from the floor, dim silver lights blinding across the ceiling like dying stars. At the centre stands a withered tree, its roots are formed from the black silk that spills into the stage floor. Behind it is a sky mural which has been painted in deep violet and Gray, the mural flickers faintly as if dying to be bright again.
The Queen of Silence kneels beneath the tree; her dress cast in a whirlwind of silver which is tattered yet royal.
The Thirteen Others, clothed in shades of while and grey colours, form a wide circle around her. They are 'Echoes'; fragments of her past, her family, of the society she lives in, her fears and her hopes.
The echoes move slowly and gracefully around her, almost like smoke. Soft music hums in the background with a rhythm of heartbeat.
ACT I — The Rise
A faint light falls on Harlem's face. Her eyes are open but absent. The Echoes move in rhythmic circles around her, whispering words that overlap, becoming her.
Echo 1: "She must not question."
Echo 2: "She must not dream."
Echo 3: "A woman's peace lies in silence."
Echo 4: "Smile. Smile when it hurts."
Echoes 5–13 (in chorus): "A good woman obeys."
The circle tightens. Harlem lifts her head slowly, eyes watering.
The Queen of Silence (softly): "And what if obedience feels like dying?"
The Echoes freeze. One by one, they turn their heads to her, the sound of bells can be heard ringing faintly.
Echo 7 (calm, smiling): "Then die beautifully."
Echo 8 (whisper): "And make your death a poem."
A golden light blooms from the right wing. The Wanderer enters, the male lead; tall, graceful, dressed in white and gold. He walks toward Harlem slowly, the air bending with his presence.
He stops before her and extends a hand.
The Wanderer (gentle): "Rise, my Queen of Silence. I have built you a throne among the stars."
The Queen of Silence (looking up): "And what must I give you in return?"
The Wanderer (smiling faintly): "Only yourself."
The Echoes bow in unison.
Harlem blinks and takes his hand. The light brightens, and her silver dress squints in the ray of light; a transformative sign which symbolizes acceptance.
Echoes (chanting):
"She belongs now.
She bends now.
She smiles now."
The music swells as The Wanderer places a golden crown on Harlem's head. She stands beside him. The stage fades to white.
ACT II — The Fall
The sound of a ticking clock fills the silence.
The light changes from gold to crimson; harsh and suffocating. Harlem stands at the centre of the stage, the crown slightly tilted, her face pale, eyes lost. The Wanderer stands behind her, holding invisible strings that connect to her wrists.
The Echoes spread out around them, each holding a mirror. They angle the mirrors so beams of light bounce onto Harlem, blinding her eyes. She closes them, the pain uncomfortable.
The Wanderer (soft, controlling):
"You are my muse.
My breath.
My creation.
So why do you tremble when I touch you?"
Harlem's voice cracks, trembling but defiant.
The Queen of Silence: "Because your touch reminds me that I am not alive."
The audience reacts. Ezra sits forward in his seat; his eyes locked on Harlem.
The Echoes begin to hum and the hums grow louder, turning into overlapping voices.
Echo 2: "You wanted this."
Echo 5: "You chose this."
Echo 9: "You should be grateful."
Echoes (together): "You should love your cage."
Harlem grips her chest and falls to her knees. The Wanderer kneels before her, cupping her chin.
The Wanderer: "You said you wanted to be seen."
The Queen of Silence: "Not like this."
The Wanderer: "You said you wanted love."
The Queen of Silence: "Not the kind that makes me vanish."
The music stops. Silence.
She looks into his eyes; her voice trembling, but clear.
The Queen of Silence: "You said I was the light of your world… but why does your world feel so dark?"
He whispers, his voice barely audible:
The Wanderer: "Because I only shine when you don't."
A haunting pause. The Echoes slowly raise their mirrors, shattering them one by one on the ground — the sound like thunder.
Echoes (whispering, overlapping):
"Break."
"Breathe."
"Burn."
"Begin."
Lights flicker wildly. The air is charged with static electricity. Harlem screams a raw, guttural cry that fills the theatre and cuts through the hum. The lights die completely. Darkness everywhere.
ACT III — The Rebirth
Silence stretches for a long moment. Then a single spotlight flickers on. Harlem stands centre stage, alone. Her crown lies shattered beside her feet. She falls to her knees as though they can no longer carry her. The Echoes are lying on the ground around her, motionless. Slowly, she raises her head and whispers:
The Queen of Silence (she stands): "I thought silence was peace… but it was a prison in disguise."
She steps forward. The Echoes begin to rise, one by one, each dressed now in pale gold and white. They move gracefully, lighting candles one by one, forming a glowing semicircle around her.
Echo 4 (softly): "We were never your chains."
Echo 6: "We were the voices you buried."
Echo 10: "Now speak."
Harlem closes her eyes and begins to sing; her voice low and trembling as though to haunt.
The Queen of Silence (singing softly):
"They told me to whisper my dreams,
so I swallowed them whole.
They told me to smile through the bleeding,
so I did, until I forgot my face."
The Wanderer enters again; no longer in gold, but in grey. His light is dim, his expression softer. He kneels before her.
The Wanderer (broken):
"I built a sky to keep you safe…
but I forgot you were the sky."
She takes his face gently in her hands, tears glimmering in her eyes.
The Queen of Silence: "You wanted me to belong to you… but I was never meant to belong. I was meant to be."
He bows his head, trembling. She steps past him slowly.
Each Echo she passes lights a candle, illuminating her path. The music swells with gentle piano and a soft choir.
As she reaches the front of the stage, she turns to face the audience.
Her voice is steady; no fear, no hesitation.
The Queen of Silence (final monologue):
"They called me fragile.
They called me lost.
But I was only waiting,
to remember I was the sky."
The lights brighten into gold.
The thirteen Echoes kneel, heads bowed. The Wanderer lowers himself fully to the floor.
Harlem lifts her face toward the audience, tears streaking her cheeks, bathed in golden light.
The music fades out like a heartbeat.
Silence.
And then; applause.