Play 7: Dusty Photographs

CHARACTERS
1, male, 16

(He stands in the middle of the stage facing the audience.)

1
The weirdest thing happened to me earlier. I was washing my hands in the bathroom, I looked up in the mirror and I noticed this faint pink line on the bottom of my chin. I’d noticed it now and then, I would be shaving and look at it for a second in the mirror, and think—wait a minute, what the hell is that? I think, ehh, I probably just cut it the last time I shaved or something, but then I think for a second and realize I never remember having done that. But then I just keep shaving and forget about it.

(Pause.)

But not this time, I’m washing the soap off my hands and I just can’t get the thought out of my head. And then suddenly a thought pops in my head: it’s from when you split your chin open. And as soon as the thought occurs to me, I know it’s true. It’s funny though, I had to think about it for a second before I could remember what happened. It was a while ago-−shit, must’ve been preschool. It was pretty early, hadn’t been at school too long that day, and they’d have this ramp we would play on. I was running up it, and somehow I slipped or something—I don’t remember what exactly happened, just that something did; but anyways, I slipped, and I hit my chin on this metal edge on the top. There was blood everywhere, I must’ve been screaming, I can’t say for sure though. Anyways, since I hadn’t been there long, it turned out my mom was still there at school and she came with me to the hospital and everything. I got some stitches, and eventually the mark faded and went away: at least I though it had. I hadn’t thought about it in years, I didn’t even remember it had happened. Then I see that mark in the mirror and it all comes back.

(Pause.)

The strangest part about it though, is when I think about it, I keep getting this image in my head; it’s in a room, I don’t know exactly what the room looks like, it’s a faint image, and there’s this ramp in the middle of the room. And I think for another second and I can see that edge on the top that I hit my chin on. But when I try to just visualize the room where it happened, I can’t remember almost anything. I don’t remember the ramp, I don’t know what color it was, or what it looked like at all really. But where’s that image I get in my mind when I think about it come from? Is it snapshot of that moment that’s been buried in my subconscious all these years and I just found it again? Or in thinking about it, is my mind just trying to make some image up to try to reassure myself that it actually happened? I have no idea.

(Pause.)

It gets me thinking: what else have I forgotten? I remember almost nothing from back then, but I was probably around 5 then, so who remembers shit that long ago? But then I think of even middle school, that’s only a few years ago. A few images flash to mind, a few moments I can remember. But what about those? Are they really what everything looked like and how it went? Why should I trust them any more than that picture I keep seeing of the ramp? And the weirdest part is even though I have those pictures in my head, I never see myself in them. I try to think about it for a minute, and i get this image of myself when i was running up that ramp, but then i think for another second and i realize the image looks exactly like that picture on the wall at home of me when i was little. It's just another image my mind scrambled to fit in there thinking i wouldn't realize it. And I can’t remember what I was thinking in those moments. Shit, I don’t even remember who I was then. It’s like, every few years, we’re reborn, and we’re suddenly this new person. And all that’s left of that old one is those few snapshots you have from back then, and once in a while you think of something, or you notice something and it comes back to you—and you try to keep thinking about it, thinking, if you keep reaching around you'll will eventually stumble onto another picture. But you can never find more than a few.

(Pause.)

And I’m only a teenager. What about in 50 years? Shit, even 10. Where will everything I see now be? Will this be one of those moments I can remember, or will I just make up an image in my mind to try to recapture what I think there was there? And who I thought was there; will who I am now be just a series of images in my head? Maybe not. Maybe the older you get and the more defined your personality is, the more you remember it, or maybe it just doesn’t change so much so it’s not so dramatic a difference. Or maybe in ten years, I’ll look in the mirror, and see that scar again, and I’ll come up with another dusty photograph in my mind, and I’ll reach around for others, and there’ll be nothing there. Who knows, maybe it’s for the best, maybe it’s better we forget things. Maybe I suppressed that memory of splitting my chin cause it was painful and I don’t want to remember it. Who knows. All I can tell you is, I sure as hell don’t know.

Play 6: Tesla is the Man

CHARACTERS
TYLER, 17
GREG, 16

(They sit on the steps outside a school entrance.)

TYLER
You ever heard of him?

GREG
What’s his name again?

TYLER
Nikola Tesla.

GREG
Nope. Who is he?

TYLER
Pretty brilliant scientist and engineer.

GREG
He do anything?

TYLER
He figured out a way to harness the energy of the Earth’s rotation to produce unlimited energy; all you’d need to do is buy a transformer and you’d have all the energy you’d need for free from then on.

GREG
Did it work?

TYLER
In theory it did.

GREG
How bout in practice?

TYLER
Never tried.

GREG
How come?

TYLER
He worked for PG&E, and when he told them his idea they told him to give them all his files and that he was fired.

GREG
What the fuck? Why?

TYLER
If once you buy the transformer you have unlimited energy for free, then they’d go bankrupt pretty fast.

GREG
So we gotta pay for energy and waste all these resources cause the people at PG&E were greedy bastards?

TYLER
Pretty much.

GREG
Wait, when did all this happen?

TYLER
Somewhere around the forties I think, I’m not sure really.

GREG
He do anything else cool?

TYLER
Yeah, bunch of shit. One thing I remember is he only would take naps, never sleep for long, so he found it very inconvenient that it got dark at night and figured out a way to ionize the upper atmosphere.

GREG
And that means?

TYLER
Pretty much it’d be light out all day. But it was questionable whether the process would be reversible.

GREG
I kinda get why that one didn’t happen.

TYLER
Yeah. You gotta admit it’s still pretty fucking brilliant though.

GREG
Yeah.

TYLER
He invented a shitload of other stuff too. The depressing thing is almost no one knows who he is. They all talk about finding renewable energy and can’t seem to do it and someone figured it out fifty years ago, and almost no one has a clue.

GREG
That is kinda depressing.

TYLER
Yeah, fucking capitalism at its best right there.

GREG
Better than communism still.

TYLER
Ehh, at least communism worked in theory.

GREG
How bout in practice?

TYLER
Everything went to hell. People are bastards, what can I say.

(Lights down.)

Play 5: I Hate it When People Do Things Like This

CHARACTERS
BEN, male, 16
BOY, around 16
GIRL, around 16
BOY 2, around 16

(They sit around a table in a crowded cafeteria. A few other teenagers sit around the table all talking, but it’s very difficult to discern what they are talking about as so many different conversations are going on.)

BEN
Do you have any idea what I’m talking about?

GIRL
I think so.

BEN
I Just hate that feeling you get when you’re talking to a group of people but none of them is paying any attention. It’s just depressing when no one is listening to what you’re saying, makes you feel like they don’t care at all.

(she turns her head away from him and joins in on one of the other conversations going on at the table. He doesn’t seem to notice.)

BEN
And you never know, cause maybe they just don’t hear you, I tend to mutter sometimes; or maybe they do hear me and just don’t care about what I’m—

(He notices she's not listening and his voice trails off.)

Are you listening?

(Pause.)

(mutters to himself)
Goddamn it. No, how perfect. I’m trying to explain how I hate it when people don’t listen and no one’s listening.

BOY
I’m Am.

BEN
Oh, sorry, I hadn’t noticed.

BOY
No problem, I hate it when that happens too.

BEN
Really?

BOY
Yeah.

BEN
And you weren’t bored by or didn’t care about all that?

BOY
Nope.

BEN
Man, you have no idea how much that means to—

(BOY turns his head and joins in the conversation the girl had previously.)

(BEN stops in mid-sentence.)

(Pause.)

(He sighs, and looks around. He sees everyone else is engaged in one conversation or another.)

(Pause.)

BEN
I’m gonna go. See you guys later.

BOY 2
Cya
(He says it without looking up, and after saying it immediately resumes his conversation)

(BEN walks offstage, casting one last glance over his shoulder before exiting.)

(Lights down.)

Play 4: The 2nd Coming

CHARACTERS
ALEX, male, 18
RACHEL, female, 17

(he stands slightly to the side of center stage, a spotlight is on him and otherwise the stage is dark. From the bit of the stage visible, it appears to be a sidewalk in an empty city block.)

(she enters from his side of the stage, a spotlight follows her as well.)

ALEX
Rachel, you’re not going to believe this!

RACHEL
What is it?

ALEX
I (Beat.) I found Jesus.

RACHEL
What are you talking about, aren’t you Jewish?

ALEX
(angrily)
What the hell does that have to do with this?

RACHEL
(confused)
What do you mean? It has everything to do with it, it’s not often you hear a jew say they’ve found Jesus.

ALEX
No no no, you don’t understand. I literally fucking found Jesus!

RACHEL
What are you talking about?

(Alex points to the center of the stage. Lights up on the entire stage, there is a long brown haired man in a white robe lying on his stomach in the center of the stage.)

(she walks over to the man and looks down at him. He follows behind her.)

(Pause.)

RACHEL
Holy shit.

ALEX
Yeah.

RACHEL
How do you know that’s actually Jesus, I mean there’s plenty of people who might just be dressed up as him or something?

ALEX
Well it’s not fucking Halloween.

RACHEL
Still.

ALEX
Well, maybe it’s just me, but maybe the fact that he had a fucking glowing halo of light around his head.

RACHEL
But there is no halo.

ALEX
I did say “had”

RACHEL
What do you mean?

ALEX
Well, there was a halo, before….

RACHEL
Wait (Beat.) Alex, why is he lying unmoving on the ground.

(Pause.)

ALEX
Well, uh, he kinda snuck up on me.

RACHEL
What the hell do you mean?

ALEX
Well, it’s late, this isn’t the greatest neighborhood, and, and I heard what sounded like someone sneaking up on me.

RACHEL
You’re…you’re not saying you…

(she bends down to examine the man. After a few seconds she rolls him over. There is a knife in his stomach and his robe is red all around it.)

RACHEL
Alex (Beat.) You, you fucking stabbed Jesus!

ALEX
I didn’t know it was him when I stabbed him!

RACHEL
Who cares? You fucking stabbed Jesus!

ALEX
You think I don’t know that? What am I gonna do?

RACHEL
How the hell should I know?!

ALEX
I don’t know about you, but I’m getting the fuck out of here!

(He starts to run offstage, then quickly runs back, jerks the knife out of the Jesus, and then runs offstage with it in his hand.)

(she stands still frozen in shock for a few moments.)

RACHEL
What a fucking day.

(she turns and runs offstage in the opposite direction than the one he had gone.)

(Blackout.)

Play 3: Do You Come Here Often?

CHARACTERS
MAN, early twenties
WOMAN, early twenties

(He sits alone on a bench in a subway station staring at the ground facing the audience. She enters, and looks at him sitting on the bench)

W
(She mutters under her breath)
Goddamn it.

(He looks up from the ground to her.)

M
What’s wrong?

(Her head jolts up, she seems surprised to hear him talk)

W
Nothing.

(Beat.)

Just, that’s where I always sit.

M
Oh, I’m sorry, do you want me to move?

(he starts to get up)

W
No no, it’s fine. I’ll just sit here.

(she sits next to him on the bench.)

(Pause.)

M
So, you come here often?

W
What makes you say that?

M
Well, you did say you always sit here didn’t you?

W
Oh, yeah, I guess I did.

M
So you come here often?

W
Yeah.

(Beat.)

M
Me too.

W
(With a trace of hostility)
Fascinating.

(Beat.)

(He looks back at the ground. They remain sitting silently for a few seconds.)

(She looks over at him looking at the ground.)

W
Look, I’m sorry.

(He looks up.)

M
For?

W
I’m just a little on edge cause I’m late for work.

M
It’s okay, don’t worry about it.

(There is the sound of a subway entering the station.)

M
Guess you won’t be that late after all

W
Guess not

(Beat.)

Well it was nice talking to you.

M
Yeah.

(She exits offstage to where the sound of the subway car came from.)

(He sighs, and looks to his watch before looking back to the ground.)

(Fade out.)

Play 2: Waiting for Something (aka, Lockers)

CHARACTERS
1, male, 16
2, male, 16

(They sit with their backs to a row of lockers in an empty hallway.)

1
How come?

2
I dunno

1
Nothing bad happened to you today or anything?

2
No, not really. Just one of those random shitty moods.

1
That blows.

2
Yeah.

(Beat.)

I guess I’m just bored.

1
That’s it?

2
What do you mean?

1
Well, everyone’s bored sometimes, just part of life.

2
Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck

1
True

2
I just wish something would happen.

1
Yeah, I know what you mean.

2
I don’t even mean anything good necessarily, just something.

1
Wouldn’t it suck a lot more if something actually shitty happened to you?

2
Sometimes I think it might be better, interesting at least. Maybe I should just do something crazy, see what happens.

1
That’s a terrible idea.

2
Why?

1
It probably wouldn’t end up well.

2
Maybe that’d be for the best.

1
What are you talking about?

2
Maybe I need something bad to happen to me to remind me my life isn’t so bad.

1
Maybe it’d just make it suck even more.

2
Maybe.

(Beat.)

But maybe not.

1
I doubt it.

2
Yeah. I just wish something would happen though.

1
Yeah, don’t we all.

(Beat.)

2
So, how you doing?

1
Ehh, it kinda blows.

2
You have any idea why?

1
Yeah.

2
How come?

1
Something shitty happened.

2
So I guess it doesn’t just take away from the monotony and make it feel better?

1
No.

2
Damn.

1
Yeah.

(Fade Out.)

Play 1: Interview

CHARACTERS
BEN, male, 16
MAN, male, middle-aged

(they sit on chairs facing each other on an otherwise empty stage, a small round table resting between them with two cups on it)

MAN
So why are you doing this?

BEN
A few reasons.

MAN
What are they?

BEN
I guess I just feel guilty for not having written much lately, and knowing myself unless I do something like this that forces me to do it whether I want to or not I probably won’t ever.

MAN
And why is that you think?

BEN
Well, pretty much cause I’m lazy as hell.

(he picks up one of the cups and takes a sip)

(Beat.)

MAN
Interesting.

BEN
That and, who knows, maybe I’m trying to recreate come aspect of CSSSA, maybe I’m just thinking subconsciously that if I start writing again then suddenly everything else will be like it was there.

MAN
Well, I must say, those are quite good reason for doing—

BEN
That and boredom.

(Beat.)

MAN
So, what do you think you’re trying to accomplish with it?

BEN
I guess trying to improve my writing, make myself a little less bored and a little happier, get through my hatred of everything I write by forcing myself to just post everything. That and hearing the people who read it shower me with praise to contradict my own hatred of all of the pieces I’ll write.

MAN
Isn’t that kind of narcissistic?

BEN
Well, Freud says we’re all narcissists, just different kinds

MAN
What the hell does that have to do with anything?

(Beat.)

BEN
Well, I, uh

MAN
And why am I suddenly just talking like you instead of a different person like I was originally intended to be?

BEN
Well, funny you should say that, its an artistic choice I, well, chose so that I may—

MAN
You realize this play, or scene (I mean, come on, isn’t it a little grandiose to call this a play?), sucks, right?

(Beat.)

BEN
Yeah.

MAN
And you realize this is the first play out of 365-- o yeah, real likely you’ll actually write all three hundred sixty five of them—and you’ve already fallen back on the you making fun of your own work gimmick.

BEN
Well, yeah, I--

MAN
Are you gonna answer me or are you just gonna sit there and mutter incoherently?

(Beat.)

(BEN opens his mouth as if to speak, then starts to glance around rapidly)

BEN
I, uh

(he suddenly leaps out of his chair, and stabs MAN with the sharpened end of a tooth brush that had been in his pocket)

(MAN lies on the floor motionless)

(BEN pulls the toothbrush out, glances all around nervously, and then runs off the stage to the side.)

(Blackout)

Hey everyone,
So this marks the beginning of my (very possibly futile) attempt to try to do the whole play-a-day for a year thing, inspired by other people from the CSSSA creative writing class (whom i love an unbelievable amount). I'll post my first one later tonight (or maybe even techincally tomorrow morning by the time i get around to it), so we'll see how it goes and whether i can actually do it for the whole year or whether it will die a horrible death due to my negligence far earlier. Anyways, i hope you guys like whatever stuff i put up (cause i doubt i will) but hey, I'm just going to go for it anyways; should help with the incredible boredom and guilt for not writing I've been feeling lately.
--Ben