Tilted Forum Project Discussion Community - View Single Post

thejoker130 · 09-10-2003, 02:11 PM

I'm not very good with poetry but i am a pretty good writer (i think) when it comes to plays this one took me a long time to do. so, i hope you like.

ps this isnt massive as plays go but it is pretty F'n long so i'm gonna post it in installments

********

Fathers Love

(Sarah is sitting in a chair, speaking into her telephone. On the far opposite end of the stage sits her therapist. Mephistopheles stands behind the therapist with one hand on his shoulder. Mephistopheles is standing perfectly still, staring out at the back of the theater. The therapist’s speech and movement should be very reminiscent of a puppet on strings.)

SARAH: That’s crazy!

THERAPIST: Sarah, numerous scientific studies into the subject tell us that dreams DO represent what our brain “thinks” about concerning information stored in our memory.

SARAH: But what’s so important about these things? Why do I have these same dreams over and over again?

THERAPIST: Sarah, the fact that these dreams reoccur every night is quite significant. (short pause) I think you have some repressed memories from your childhood.

SARAH: (angered) Of COURSE I have suppressed memories from my childhood. I can’t even REMEMBER my childhood!

THERAPIST: Now Sarah, there’s no need to get angry about this. I am a professional, after all.

SARAH: Some professional you are! Three years of therapy and what do I have to show for it?! Piles of unpaid bills because I’m afraid to leave the house to get a decent job, getting my groceries delivered by that snot-nosed kid down the lane who stands outside my house everyday singing “Sarah’s arachnophobic!”… Stupid kid’s not even smart enough to know the difference between ‘arachnophobic’ and what’s really wrong with me!

THERAPIST: Sarah, we’ve talked about your agoraphobia and I thought we were making progress. I thought you were going out to get your groceries now.

SARAH: How the hell would you know? You’ve never seen me. I’m just a voice on the phone to you!

THERAPIST: Now Sarah—

SARAH: (sigh) Look, I’m sorry but I… Why don’t we talk about something else? Something that really matters. I woke up this morning and the first thing I saw was that damn bulletin board. There were more headlines today, and I can’t remember putting them up.

THERAPISTS: More headlines about fires in town?

SARAH: Yes. This last one was across the way from Doctor’s Steven’s house. This time, two boys and their mother were killed. The one before that was across from the Lutheran church. Three couples were killed in that one. If you’re such a professional, tell me why I can’t put these articles down. Why am I so obsessed with them? Why?

THERAPIST: I was thinking about that, and I feel that it may have something to do with these memories that you’ve been repressing.

(Sarah begins to get more angered than she already was)

SARAH: Again with this repressed memory bullshit! You’re like a broken record. (She pauses, holding her head as if she had a headache) I don’t have time for this. I need to get back to work on my next painting.

THERAPIST: Starting a new painting are we? What is it?

SARAH: I don’t know yet… I guess it will be like all the others, though.

THERAPIST: I saw your pieces at the gallery last week, and I noticed a pattern. There was some element of fire in each and every one of them.

SARAH: Yeah, so?

THERAPIST: I feel your obsession with fire may have something to do with an event that you have tried to hide from yourself.

SARAH: I can’t believe you’re trying to push this repressed memory shit on me again.

THERAPIST: If you could just TRY to remember.

SARAH: I HAVE tried. Every night when I go to sleep, thanks to these damn memory exercises you’ve been giving to me, I wake up every morning covered in sweat, exhausted off my ass. And if that’s not enough, I think so hard I forget I have a cigarette lit and fall asleep. Now, thanks to you, my entire house always smells like smoke.

(Mephistopheles pulls his hand off the therapist’s shoulder. The therapist begins to slowly collapse. He then puts his hand on his forehead, seems very agitated, and mutters “Stubborn bitch…” Quickly, he puts his hand back onto the therapist’s shoulder, who then sits back upright and resumes speaking.)

THERAPIST: We’re getting nowhere like this, Sarah. Why don’t I come over to your house and we can talk face-to-face, over coffee?

SARAH: I’d rather you didn’t.

THERAPIST: Sarah, please. If your therapy is going to go anywhere, you have to start opening up.

SARAH: (exasperated) Alright, fine. If you want to be a visitor at my little house of horrors, fine by me. But I have to clean first.

THERAPIST: That won’t be necessary. I don’t expect the session to run very long. (under his breath) I’m running out of time as it is.

SARAH: What was that?

THERAPIST: Nothing at all. I’ll be over as soon as possible. (he hangs up)

SARAH: Wait a minute, what about my address? (holds the phone out and looks at it) How does he expect to find my house? (slams the phone down) Idiot.

(Mephistopheles takes his hand off the therapist’s shoulder. The therapist slumps over like a discarded puppet.)

MEPHISTOPHELES: Finally! Now I’m getting somewhere.

(Therapist remains on stage. Sarah makes herself busy around the house Mephistopheles grabs a briefcase from beside the therapist’s chair and exits.

PPs: if you like this much let me know so i can know whether or not to post the rest (is a long freekin play i dont wanna take up too much space)

09-10-2003, 02:11 PM	#1 (permalink)
thejoker130 Insane Location: slippery rock university AKA: The left ass cheek of the world	A play part one I'm not very good with poetry but i am a pretty good writer (i think) when it comes to plays this one took me a long time to do. so, i hope you like. ps this isnt massive as plays go but it is pretty F'n long so i'm gonna post it in installments ******** Fathers Love (Sarah is sitting in a chair, speaking into her telephone. On the far opposite end of the stage sits her therapist. Mephistopheles stands behind the therapist with one hand on his shoulder. Mephistopheles is standing perfectly still, staring out at the back of the theater. The therapist’s speech and movement should be very reminiscent of a puppet on strings.) SARAH: That’s crazy! THERAPIST: Sarah, numerous scientific studies into the subject tell us that dreams DO represent what our brain “thinks” about concerning information stored in our memory. SARAH: But what’s so important about these things? Why do I have these same dreams over and over again? THERAPIST: Sarah, the fact that these dreams reoccur every night is quite significant. (short pause) I think you have some repressed memories from your childhood. SARAH: (angered) Of COURSE I have suppressed memories from my childhood. I can’t even REMEMBER my childhood! THERAPIST: Now Sarah, there’s no need to get angry about this. I am a professional, after all. SARAH: Some professional you are! Three years of therapy and what do I have to show for it?! Piles of unpaid bills because I’m afraid to leave the house to get a decent job, getting my groceries delivered by that snot-nosed kid down the lane who stands outside my house everyday singing “Sarah’s arachnophobic!”… Stupid kid’s not even smart enough to know the difference between ‘arachnophobic’ and what’s really wrong with me! THERAPIST: Sarah, we’ve talked about your agoraphobia and I thought we were making progress. I thought you were going out to get your groceries now. SARAH: How the hell would you know? You’ve never seen me. I’m just a voice on the phone to you! THERAPIST: Now Sarah— SARAH: (sigh) Look, I’m sorry but I… Why don’t we talk about something else? Something that really matters. I woke up this morning and the first thing I saw was that damn bulletin board. There were more headlines today, and I can’t remember putting them up. THERAPISTS: More headlines about fires in town? SARAH: Yes. This last one was across the way from Doctor’s Steven’s house. This time, two boys and their mother were killed. The one before that was across from the Lutheran church. Three couples were killed in that one. If you’re such a professional, tell me why I can’t put these articles down. Why am I so obsessed with them? Why? THERAPIST: I was thinking about that, and I feel that it may have something to do with these memories that you’ve been repressing. (Sarah begins to get more angered than she already was) SARAH: Again with this repressed memory bullshit! You’re like a broken record. (She pauses, holding her head as if she had a headache) I don’t have time for this. I need to get back to work on my next painting. THERAPIST: Starting a new painting are we? What is it? SARAH: I don’t know yet… I guess it will be like all the others, though. THERAPIST: I saw your pieces at the gallery last week, and I noticed a pattern. There was some element of fire in each and every one of them. SARAH: Yeah, so? THERAPIST: I feel your obsession with fire may have something to do with an event that you have tried to hide from yourself. SARAH: I can’t believe you’re trying to push this repressed memory shit on me again. THERAPIST: If you could just TRY to remember. SARAH: I HAVE tried. Every night when I go to sleep, thanks to these damn memory exercises you’ve been giving to me, I wake up every morning covered in sweat, exhausted off my ass. And if that’s not enough, I think so hard I forget I have a cigarette lit and fall asleep. Now, thanks to you, my entire house always smells like smoke. (Mephistopheles pulls his hand off the therapist’s shoulder. The therapist begins to slowly collapse. He then puts his hand on his forehead, seems very agitated, and mutters “Stubborn bitch…” Quickly, he puts his hand back onto the therapist’s shoulder, who then sits back upright and resumes speaking.) THERAPIST: We’re getting nowhere like this, Sarah. Why don’t I come over to your house and we can talk face-to-face, over coffee? SARAH: I’d rather you didn’t. THERAPIST: Sarah, please. If your therapy is going to go anywhere, you have to start opening up. SARAH: (exasperated) Alright, fine. If you want to be a visitor at my little house of horrors, fine by me. But I have to clean first. THERAPIST: That won’t be necessary. I don’t expect the session to run very long. (under his breath) I’m running out of time as it is. SARAH: What was that? THERAPIST: Nothing at all. I’ll be over as soon as possible. (he hangs up) SARAH: Wait a minute, what about my address? (holds the phone out and looks at it) How does he expect to find my house? (slams the phone down) Idiot. (Mephistopheles takes his hand off the therapist’s shoulder. The therapist slumps over like a discarded puppet.) MEPHISTOPHELES: Finally! Now I’m getting somewhere. (Therapist remains on stage. Sarah makes herself busy around the house Mephistopheles grabs a briefcase from beside the therapist’s chair and exits. PPs: if you like this much let me know so i can know whether or not to post the rest (is a long freekin play i dont wanna take up too much space) Last edited by thejoker130; 09-10-2003 at 02:16 PM..