The Man In The Golden Mask

No doubt you’ve heard of the famous ‘Man in the golden mask’ and how he mysteriously disappeared.

Lots of wierd theories have been suggested about what actually happened to him; some think he died in an automobile accident; others a plane crash and some believe he was murdered by the Mafia or the government or extra terrestrials.

But I know the real story of who he was; where he came from and what happened to him.

It was a cold, September day. The leaves were starting to change colour and fall from the trees and a teenage boy was trudging home from school with a black eye where one of the school bullies had punched him.

I won’t tell you the boy’s name. It suffices to say, he wasn’t anybody famous.

He hated his life, that boy. Ever since he could remember, no one had liked him. Even his own
parents had despised him while idolizing his older, more successful brother and he’d never had a single friend in all his childhood days.

But then, as he was waiting at some traffic lights to cross onto the street where he lived; a long, snake-skin coloured, stretched limousine pulled up in front of him.

It was the longest automobile that the boy had ever seen; stretching as far as the entire road and,one of its flame coloured, opaque windows rolling down, a passenger who was seated inside, an old man in a dark coloured suit and homburg hat, said to him, “That’s quite a black eye you’ve got. How did you get that young man?”.

The boy looked at the ground, a tear rolling down his cheek and onto the pavement, “A boy hit me;
a bully at school”.

“Oh dear”, said the man, chuckling but smiling sympathetically, “Well, how would you like it if no one bullied you anymore. If everyone liked you, in fact. If everyone wanted to be your friend”.

“I would like that very much”, said the boy, now looking the man directly in the face and seeing that there was something piercing and magnetic about his eyes.

Then one of the many gull-wing doors of the strange limousine, suddenly flew open and a man in a long black tailcoat who looked like a Valet got out holding something glittery and golden in his white gloved hands which he then presented to the boy and, examining the object, the boy saw that it was
a mask; a smiling mask with handsome heroic features.

“Wear that mask”, said the old man, “And everyone will like you. You’ll be famous and successful. Have everything your heart has ever dreamed of but be warned; people will only like you when you’re wearing the mask. If you take it off for any length of time and people see your real face then you’ll lose everything”.

The boy placed the mask over his face and it seemed to fit perfectly, “How do I look?”, he asked the old man.

“Like a solid gold star”, said the man, smiling and then, his window rolling up once more, the traffic lights changed to green and his enormous limousine, almost as a slithering snake moves upon its belly, curled around the corner and drove off along the high street.

From that day onwards the boy wore the golden mask and never took it off. He even slept with it on and everyone seemed to like him. His parents liked him more and even called him their favourite child. The other kids at school all wanted to be his friend and no one ever bullied him or gave him another black eye and then, when he turned 13, pretty girls started queuing up to be his girlfriend.

Strangely, even when he spoke, no matter what words he said, even if he spoke in garbled gibberish, people seemed to think it was wonderful, wise, witty and insightful. Whenever he told a joke; no matter how unamusing, people burst into gales of laughter and whenever he sang, no matter how off-key and out of tune, people gasped in awe and told him that he had the voice of an angel.

Then, one day, he was spotted by a talent scout who took him off to the bright lights of the big city where he became a famous singer and actor and, after that, “The man in the golden mask” became a household name throughout the world; idolized by everyone.

Now, wherever he went he would be instantly mobbed by hordes of screaming teenage girls or autograph hunters or paparazzi with snapping cameras and newspaper interviewers and, soon after that,he started winning armfuls of glittering prizes and awards and going to awards ceremonies where he rubbed shoulders with the rich and famous. There was even a star on the famous walk of fame with his name on it.

It was an astonishing life. The kind of life that most people only dream of but, even though he had all of those things, “The Man in the golden mask” wasn’t happy.

“No one likes me for who I am. They don’t even know who I am”, he thought to himself, “They only like me because I’m wearing the golden mask”.

Infact, even “The Man In The Golden Mask” wasn’t sure who he now was or if there was still a face under his mask at all but he feared what would happen if he took it off; feared losing the adoration and the wealthy life that he had started being accustomed to.

And so he tried to bury his sadness. He started to drink and take drugs and sleep with all the women who seemed to be in love with his golden mask. His head became such a blur that he couldn’t even remember his own name anymore.

Then, one day, he went out driving in one of his fancy, Italian sports cars, putting his foot down on the accelerator,his head whirling like a twister with images of adoring faces and laughing devils in homburg hats and the sound of screaming crowds like thunder in his ears. He was so confused that he didn’t know what he was doing.

Then he accidentally crashed it off of a bridge and into a lake.

That’s when they say he disappeared; vanished mysteriously into thin air. Most people think he died tragically, perhaps in the car accident or some other way. “He’s dead”, they say, “But the legend of The Man in The Golden Mask lives on”.

Well, he’s not dead. I can tell you exactly what happened to him.

I’m him. I was “The Man In The Golden Mask” but I threw it away; threw it on a fire and watched it melt and thank goodness its gone.

I know, you’re not interested. You probably don’t even believe me. You probably think I'm loony.

No one’s interested in what I have to say, not now that the mask is gone but I don’t care because at least I have myself back; my soul back; at least it’s me you see when you look at me; like me or loathe me; at least it’s the real me.