S: Words: It's not the ones you choose, but the way you use them..
FC: Words: It's not the ones you choose, but the way you use them..
1: The Most Dangerous Game Continued | Rainsford awoke to the sun shining in through the large window of the former general’s room. He had slept effortlessly, almost pleasantly, in the absence of the fear and stress that had tortured him for the past few days. Upon surveying his surroundings, he found everything as he had left it. General Zaroff, or rather, what remained of him, lay slumped over in a heap next to the door. What to do next? The man wondered to himself. Well, getting off this bloody island would be a prudent first choice. He lazily dropped his feet to the floor and made for the hallway. His salt-encrusted clothes crunched with each step as he followed an ornate carpet through a hall of doors. He had no idea where to begin on his goal, so he settled for acquainting himself with his surroundings. As the first door he chose creaked open, Rainsford found himself in the doorway of a gigantic library. Shelves adorned every wall, and they seemed to groan in protest to all the tomes pushed between their wooden arms. He could only guess how many twisted and sick novels rested in the room. Rainsford quickly came to the conclusion that nothing in the library would be of any use to him, so he exited promptly. After traversing further down the hallway, he found himself in front of an open door, where he squinted into the darkness. A dismal feeling, like a heavy stone, weighed down on his stomach for reasons unbeknownst to him. This room had no windows, and no light except that which crept around Rainsford’s shadow. He could not help his curiosity or the feeling that he should explore this room specifically. He wandered inside cautiously, only to find that the ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach was justified; on the walls, mounted in a variety of forms and positions, were the preserved remains of men.
2: Human heads appeared on every inch of wall, mounted and stuffed like any other hunting prize. Their numbers were astounding, and clearly within the hundreds. Hundreds upon hundreds of horrified, angry and confused faces stared at Rainsford with their cold, dark eyes. The man didn’t know what to do, so he simply gawked at each of the faces. One, a mere two feet from his own face, seemed to be crying, even though his tears must have dried long ago. “This is blasphemy.” Rainsford whispered to himself, just as he noticed what lay on a small table in the corner of the room. There sat a new pedestal, made of a dark and beautiful mahogany wood, shined to sparkling, waiting only for its new companion head. Rainsford was shaken to his core. Had he lost the battle last night, would his head have adorned that very plaque? He shivered at the thought, for he knew the answer. The feeling of ease that had gathered within him through the night had dissipated upon seeing the expressions around him. He quickly stumbled out of the room in a hurry to return to the bedroom and grab the hunting knife he had been given. When he once again found himself in General Zaroff’s bedroom, he plucked the hunting knife from the ground next to the massacred man. He wiped the blade off on the carpet to clear the black-crimson smudges that covered it. Not that the cleanliness of his weapon really mattered. At this point, Rainsford stopped. He stared at the bloody mass before him. It seemed somehow disrespectful to leave the slain hunter on the floor in such a condition, and a new idea had dawned upon him. He sauntered over the fallen man and chuckled. “I have a better place for you, my friend.” He said. He reached down to the general’s head, and grabbed it gently, almost lovingly. Gripping the hunting knife in his right hand, Rainsford began the macabre task of separating the head from the rest of the stinking corpse.
3: He began at Zaroff’s throat, slowly sawing through layers of the hunter’s thick, cold skin. With each slash of the knife, coagulated dark gunk spilled onto the carpet, making a horrible mess of the once pristine place. The satisfying crunch of bone suggested that the knife was surprisingly sharp enough to complete the dismemberment. An evil and mysterious happiness rose in Rainsford. Then at last, the final snap resonated through the room, and Zaroff’s body fell limply to the floor with a thump. Rainsford, covered in blood and sweat from the heinous task, got up from the floor. He kicked the carcass that rested in a pool of darkness, and exited the room. The man strolled down the hall of doors, gripping the head with two hands, as a villanous grin spread across his face and he hummed a cheery tune. ______________________________________ He felt better to see the general’s head sharing a place among his victims. Zaroff’s scarred and bloody face stared out from the plaque that had been meant for Rainsford’s head. Rainsford nodded his approval at his handiwork, however amateur it seemed compared to the other artfully placed remains. Done with his task, he took his leave of the morbid trophy room, closing the door behind him, with no plans to return. Rainsford couldn’t be sure of what to do next. It was getting harder to ignore the roars and grumbles of protest that sprang from his abdomen, but he dared not trust any food he found in this place. Instead, he discovered where the door was to escape the mansion.He was sure there would be a boat somewhere, or some other means of escape from the damned island. He placed his hand on the knob, and was just about to exit when he felt a sudden pulling.
4: Rainsford knew in his mind that he wanted to leave, and yet, he was getting the strange sensation that it would be better to stay. Thoughts that were not his own bounced around in the recesses of his psyche.“You’ll be blamed for murder.” They whispered. “They’ll call you crazy, send you away.” “You’ll die trying to escape this place. The jungle is dangerous.” “You murdered a man.” “You’re a murderer.” “The only safe thing to do is stay. Stay. STAY!” The dissonant chorus flooded Rainsford mind, but as soon as he removed his hand form the doorknob, they silenced. Frightened, he backed away from the door, but he could not be sure if his movements were intended by him or something else. The voices were right of course. He was a murderer. He couldn’t return to civilization. No, no one would ever believe him. Bringing anyone here would only seal his fate as a killer. “I will stay.” He whispered, almost inaudibly. Did I just say that? he wondered. Rainsford couldn’t be sure. He felt a foreign presence about him now. He wondered how he could possibly stay there for the remainder of his days. How could he survive? And what of the sailors that wreck there? He couldn’t let them go! No! They would tell the world, send people to take him. “No, that will never do,” he thought aloud, and the foreign presence within him seemed to smile. Food. He needed food. He recalled seeing no fruits in the jungle, no edible plants. The only thing he recalled was No, he couldn’t do that. The men Zaroff has spoken of, he thought. No. He could never Could he? The darkness seemed to push him towards the downward staircase. He wouldn’t do it. He would never sink so low. But But he was ever so hungry
5: The darkness whispered another thought, “Hunt.” A hunt would be nice right about now, Rainsford agreed. He felt himself slipping Changing. The darkness was right. The darkness will always be right, they both thought. He let himself be led down the stairs, to a small locked room. Five men sat inside. Scrawny, yes, but they would do. Rainsford unlocked the door and looked upon the emaciated and hopeful faces. “Run.” He told them with a wicked smile. As he watched them flee the room in terror, he laughed at a thought. They won’t be running for long.
6: Prologue | I’m not entirely sure what I want to write about for my short story. I have considered writing a fantasy story that takes place in modern times. However, I can’t decide what the conflict of such a plot would be. This would make writing the story a problem, and I have the feeling that if I tried that, the story would end up being a great deal of unnecessary rambling and description. One of the websites I visited yesterday suggested thinking of a strange situation in order to come up with the beginning of a story and then build off of that strange situation. So I think I might try that, and maybe even work in the fantasy aspect. The beginning of my strange situation could be “She sprinted down alleys, hid behind dumpsters, and crouched on the ground with rodents and scum, but it didn’t matter. Her attempts were useless; it would find her. You can’t hide from an angry dragon.” Just an idea at this point really, but I’m going to try to build up a plot and a conflict around this idea. I would like to do this because a first line like that would immediately catch the reader’s attention and would make them want to read more. This is necessary in a short story because with such a small plotline, authors have to find a way to grab, and keep, their readers’ attention. Also, I simply love reading fantasy books. The purpose of books is to bring the readers to a different world, so I like novels that introduce ideas that are completely impossible in the real world.
7: Shadows. A young woman sat in a completely black room, staring at the only miniscule source of light: the illuminated numbers on a digital clock. The bright green numerals stared back as intently as her glowing, green eyes, unblinking, from the face that read 9:53. She waited excitedly, until the moment she could escape the prison-like dome. Sadie knew that The Shell was created for her protection, for everyones' protection. She had never been able to see the sun, a fact for which she should be thankful. Humankind had lost its ability to withstand the sun’s rays centuries ago, thanks to generations of video games and indoor entertainment. She considered the stories her grandfather had told her of times before the dome. He had been one of the many scientists that had tried in vain to recreate a human tolerance to the sun. She recalled his shivers and his pained expression as he recounted the tales of men standing in an outstandingly bright light, turning red-hot like coals and then suddenly dying. Their eyes rolled up in their heads as they fell, but they were ash before they hit the ground. Even so, Sadie had always hated the thick, metal shell that covered the planet during the day. It made her feel trapped, even claustrophobic. Each time she saw the ugly chrome casing, she was reminded of her childhood pet goldfish, Swimmy. She remembered the crash and the tinkling of glass shards she heard when he died. Attempts to save him from the broken bowl had been futile; he was crushed by the fragments and spent too much time in the caustic oxygen for his little fishy lungs.
8: 10:00 p.m. finally blinked onto the clock before her. The creaks and growls of the retreating Shell brought a genuine smile to Sadie's lips. She rushed to the front door before her mother could stop her, and happily entered the cold night. Not even the endlessly tall, chrome buildings that were squished on the blocks like sardines could stifle her feelings of escape. She reveled in the freedom before her. The sheer limitlessness of the open sky took her breath away. She hated the government for taking away this feeling of freedom from her. The Shell was only removed at night, when the sun was safely hidden away, and only for a few hours. With all the technology of the day, Sadie wondered how they could not find some less prehistoric solution. The Shell was only a series of metal plates to block out the light. Could no one come up with a more intelligent solution? She even had a few of her own ideas, but they would never listen to someone like her. The leaders were too stubborn to care for anything but their own corrupt and selfish agendas. Sadie wandered around her district, glad to be away from ceilings and buildings and enclosed spaces. She knew not how much time had passed as she wandered by the light of the moon. She was so dazzled by the stars and the moon and the open space that she didn't even notice her foggy clouds of breath, her stingingly cold fingertips, or her auburn-red hair dancing in the breeze. She smiled to herself, and absentmindedly wondered what it must have been like in the past, when people could walk freely at all times. She speculated what the sun might have felt like before it killed. Was it like a giant light bulb? Did it float low to the earth like the nighttime clouds? How did it feel to escape the ever-present shadows? Her mind flooded with
9: questions and thoughts of the sun. So much so that she barely heard her mother's screams as she once again neared her huge apartment building. "Sadie! Get in here! Oh my god!” Her mother cried from their third story window. Sadie rolled her eyes and casually strolled up the flights of stairs. When she reached her home, she viewed her mother sobbing and pointing at the TV-wall. The life-size news reporter stared blankly at a satellite image of a meteor. "What's the big deal?” Sadie thought aloud. “There are always meteor showers. They just bounce off that stupid shell.” "This one's different,” her mother whispered between tears and sobs "It's from deep space, thrown off course. The Shell can't handle this one. It's half the size of earth itself." Sadie stared back silently. All the sun-guarding mechanisms had been removed since The Shell was so successful. If it broke, it would collapse. Anyone that didn't get crushed by it would be left defenseless to the sun... No. She wouldn't let that happen. The government could sit quietly and accept their doom, like Sadie knew they would, but she would find a way. Oh sure, the leaders would make it look like they had some fanciful solution. But Sadie knew how they worked. They wouldn't want to expend the money nor the effort to do anything but surround themselves with their money and their hover-cars in their final hours. So she would have to stop the meteor, or save the accursed Shell.
10: Or find some way to save the people she loved. Ideas flashed before her mind's eye and she considered them each carefully. The Shell is going to collapse she thought to herself. There's no avoiding that. But if I could just get everyone underground We could all be saved! However, upon this thought, Sadie remembered something. The leaders had blocked off all the entrances to the humans’ only hope, the underground shafts. They were prehistoric really, and could barely be called safe, existing for centuries beneath the bustling, futuristic city. She recalled learning about them in school. Before The Shell was created, and before even the development of the sun-safe hover-cars that cover ancient history museums, humans were forced underground. They became completely nocturnal, escaping the underground caves only on the blackest of nights. An entire primitive city could save the population. If only the government would allow it. "How long do we have?” Sadie asked her practically incoherent mother. "One One... One hour!” Her mother finally shouted before erupting into tears and sobs again. One hour, Sadie thought, before she returned to her normal self; she was rebellious and calculating and ready to solve the problems before her. She looked at the time on the screen. 5:24 am. They would close The Shell in a little over half an hour. That's enough time. It has to be. She left her house without another word, and reentered the cold night, sprinting to the edge of her district.
11: She fought her way through sobbing families and wandering, confused children, to get to the place none of them would think to go to. The entrance was there, somewhere. Maybe she could find a way in. The buildings around her grew darker as she ran; new-shined chrome skyscrapers faded into small, dark, dilapidated brick buildings as she reached the area known as Abandon. It had gathered that nickname as years without life passed. Few people visited the dark place anymore, and those that did almost always had illegal intentions. Sadie looked around, knowing that the entrance to the underground was near. Finally an alleyway led to a harsh, blackened doorway. She rushed forward, and the ground began to slope steadily downward just as she reached the barricaded door. Hard, black steel sealed the archway that could save everyone. Sadie glared at the metal, sizing it up, searching for any weak points, any cracks or crevices that she could exploit, but she found none. Without a lapse in her determination, Sadie turned back and ran toward home. "Onto Plan B,” she whispered to the wind that rushed past her face. She hated the leaders, hated each and every one of them. But if they wouldn't try something, she was going to at least need their help. Only they had the ability to open the seal to the underground. All she needed was one open doorway and she could save everyone. Sadie rushed to the leader-tower, which naturally, had to be the largest and most spectacular building in her district. She jumped through the doors and stared at the two room-guards blocking the
12: elevator just as she heard the creaks and growls of The Shell closing. 6:15 a.m. She was running out of time. She politely walked over to the first room-guard and in her sweetest, and most unrealistic, voice, asked if she could see one of the leaders for a "teensy weensy second.” The guard stared questioningly at his companion, who shook his head. "Sorry honey, you're just gonna have to wait. There's an important meeting going on right now. I think your little girly problems are a little less important, don't you?” Sadie fought back he urge to punch the man in the face. Had he no idea what she could do? How she could save the world while her leaders “discussed?” An idea struck her. She could sneak around the men if she just tried hard enough But she would only have one chance. "Oh pretty please can't you just give me a moment?” She begged as she batted her eyelashes and gave the man her best attempt at puppy dog eyes. The man bent down and looked at her with a moment of hesitation before he spoke. Just the hesitation she needed. Sadie ran past the man and charged for the elevator with all her might. It was only a second before she was grabbed by the second man. No, she thought. She struggled and fought and tried to break free of the man's grasp, but she was far too weak. He dragged her outside, growling, biting, scratching, and trying to find a way to get back in the building. She needed to save everyone
13: She looked up at the Shell, just in time to hear cracking, and crunching, and a loud, resonant boom. A bright, warm light appeared, and removed all the shadows from the world.
14: Love Is Blind Characters: MAN WOMAN WOMAN’S FRIEND Scene A woman sits alone on the stage on a bench near an old-fashioned lamppost. She wears clothing from the early 1900’s. A man, dressed similarly, wanders onto the stage looking dazed and conflicted MAN: I feel so lost in this world. I need someone to listen. (Looks at WOMAN.) Would you care to listen to the ramblings of a madman? WOMAN looks in his direction with caring eyes You will? Why thank you. You know, I've seen you around here before. I think you're quite beautiful. In fact (His voice trails off.) No, never mind that. WOMAN smiles Well anyway, I've grown weary in this existence. I constantly feel alone.I've been used and lied to and manipulated... I know there's a better way to live my life. I feel like I'm meant to do something bigger than this. Bigger than the nothing I accomplish now, if that makes any sense at all. A gentle breeze blows past and the WOMAN looks confused
15: Well, you see, I work. It isn’t like I accomplish nothing. I just feel empty, hollow. I am doing nothing more than every man before me has done. I was born, schooled, attended college, and now I'm working to save up a fortune for my life. But for what reason? Money will not follow me into my grave. I feel like I'm working my life away for nothing. I have nothing to show for any of it. I don't have a wife, or kids, no sweetheart, no family at all really. I don't even have anyone to talk to. (looks up hopefully at woman.) Well, no one but you. (looks quickly back down.) You know, I had a wife once. I did. Her name was Virginia. I barely knew her, since our parents arranged our marriage. She was so beautiful, and I really was beginning to love her It's such a shame that the tuberculosis took her. She was only 19. We had only been wed for about a year. I was 27 then. It seems like so very long ago. Virginia never really liked me much. She had dreamed of marrying some millionaire prince somewhere, and I guess I just couldn't fulfill those dreams for her WOMAN yawns and looks around. Oh, I'm so sorry. I must be positively boring you to pieces. I really should stop blabbering so. I just can't... I never get to talk to someone like this. It's nice to open up. Virginia never listened. She loved her friends and her family so much, but she never loved me. (Sadly, quietly) No, never me. My apologies again, really. I should be going anyway. Thank you for your time madam. Hopefully I'll see you around, some other time. Have a nice day. WOMAN smiles and nods, as if to herself. MAN departs. WOMAN: (in sign language) is anyone there? Hello? I get the strangest sensation that someone is near me hello? End scene.
16: Scene The same woman stands on pier, a few days later, completely still. The day is warm, sunny, and beautiful. All of a sudden, the man walks past, pacing back and forth and with a pained expression. MAN: (notices WOMAN) Oh! Why, I didn't even notice you, my apologies mademoiselle. I'm just nervous and stressing once again. This is become my norm, isn't it? Lonely, I am oh so lonely. How can a man live his life in this state, in this nearly complete solitude? It's not right. It's not right. It's not right I tell you! I need someone, anyone to spend some time with. WOMAN clears her throat. You know, I can't believe how rude I have been to you. I've now spoken to you more than once, ranting about my problems like it's some kind of routine. Yet, you don't even know my name. I know yours of course. You're June, the most beautiful and kind-hearted... (Quietly and to himself) never mind. (speaking to her again) The name's Wilbur. (holds out hand to shake) WOMAN stares out at the sea and smiles Not one for hand-shaking, eh? Well no matter. You surprise me still, you know. How do you do what you do? How do you sit so quietly without a worry in the world? How do you listen to my problems without becoming annoyed or shooing me away? You seem as though you haven't a worry in the world. I envy your freedom and your silence and your relaxation. I wish you the best, but I feel as though are meetings like this are becoming improper. I'm sorry I have burdened you so. Thank you again for lending me your ear when I needed it. See you around town. I hope you have a wonderful evening. Adieu.
17: End Scene Scene The WOMAN sits in a kitchen the next day, at a large wooden table. The WOMAN'S FRIEND rushes around the room making breakfast. WOMAN: (in sign language) Mary, I get the strangest feeling anymore. I swear there's almost always someone at my side, or something. I've never felt that way before. I only wish I could see whoever they are. It'd be nice to have someone but you to talk to. (She laughs, but it doesn't sound quite right.) WOMAN'S FRIEND: (places hands in WOMAN'S and signs) Very funny my dear. You know you couldn't find a better friend than me! And don't you go fretting over wishful thoughts. You can't have what you wish for, so might as well forget about it and simply enjoy the life and gifts that you have been given. Now, I'll kindly ignore you're joke, you silly woman. WOMAN: (in sign language) Oh, you are right aren't you. Don't mind my dreams spoken out loud. I really should keep these things to myself from now on! WOMAN’S FRIEND: (places hands in WOMAN'S and signs) Now don’' be silly my dear. Everyone has hopes and dreams and expectations. Just don't go praying for things that cannot happen. I wouldn't want you to be disappointed if they didn't come true of course. You have enough worries as it is! WOMAN: (in sign language) oh I know, I know. Stop making me bashful and regretful of my actions. I guess I am just a silly woman. I'll try to dream of more suitable things from now on. I think the less confusion I have in my already jumbled mind, the better off I'll be!
18: (Both women smile and continue about their business.) End scene. Scene The MAN sits in an empty house. He is in a large armchair in a large, barren room. He appears distressed and confused. MAN: I simply cannot live this way. Life is cruel when I'm so very alone. (He stares at his hand) Am I even alive anymore? My breath comes but I feel hollow, as if air and nothing more is what blows through me. I cannot do this anymore. I'll have to take some action. (MAN leaves the house with conviction, sprinting out the door so quickly that he doesn't even grab a coat.) End scene. Scene At the same time, the WOMAN leaves her house to go on a walk. She's walked the town so many times that she need not worry about being hurt. Her destination of choice is the pier that she likes to visit on cloudy days like today. The wind at the sea's edge makes her feel free. The WOMAN walks slowly and carefully smiling at the gentle breeze. Up ahead, unbeknownst to her, the MAN is running to the pier. MAN: (reaches the pier and stops running. He now looks around worried, doubtful) Should I? The WOMAN slowly approaches the edge of the pier.
19: (mumbling to himself) It would make everything better. All my problems solved with one simple action. I wouldn't have to worry about working the job that I hate, wouldn't have to worry about being alone. I wouldn't even have to worry about finding a wife. Maybe I'll find Virginia wherever I end up. That wouldn't be so bad, now would it? No, certainly not. She wouldn't be very happy, but I might be. Hmm... Happy. I hardly remember what that feels like. This place has become dark, oh so dark. I believe I heard once that you see a light when it happens. Any light would be a marvelous change in the empty life that has become the usual for me. (He climbs atop the bars that are the only safety precaution at the pier. The ocean growls and screams below, as if a storm is coming.) Dare I do it? Do I have the courage? No one will miss me. I know that for certain The WOMAN appears and clears her throat. Her eyebrows are knit together as if she is angry or distressed. The MAN jumps at the noise she makes, and looks confused and embarrassed. He is unsure of what to do. OH! June! I I I didn't see you there. (He blushes at the situation.) You don't mean to say that you would miss me if... Well if I left? The WOMAN turns her back as if insulted and begins to walk the other way. (Looks down, ashamed.) Oh, I'm sorry. I... I... didn't mean to hurt you. I'll just go. It was wrong of me to even consider doing this anyway. My parents, God rest their souls, taught me better than to consider doing such an awful thing. My apologies, June. I hope you'll forgive me. The WOMAN turns to face the MAN once again. She walks past him and stares out to the sea at the post he previously planned on jumping from.
20: Please don't hate me. I know that I should have never have considered such a thing. I didn't really think you'd mind so much though. I didn't think I was anything more than an annoyance to you honestly. The WOMAN sighs deeply and lays her head on the wooden post of the pier. I guess I should have thought more of you than I did. I underestimated your concern for me. Maybe my life isn't as void of hope as I believed a few moments ago. Thank you again. WOMAN: (in sign language) Hello? MAN: (looking confused) Why, what is that you're doing with your hands? WOMAN: (in sign language) oh, it's no hope. No one would understand me anyway. (Shakes hand in a dismissal sort of motion and shakes her head.) MAN: Ah, I'm still confused, but I see that you would like some space. I'll leave you alone for the time being. I hope I'm not related to whatever may be upsetting you. Until we meet again dear. (bows and departs.) WOMAN: (in sign language to herself) this is so upsetting! I swear there's someone here. I swear someone is speaking to me sometimes. I can just sense that it is so. I know I shouldn't wish for what I cannot nor do not have, but I wish so deeply that I could help whomever this person is. This situation stresses me so. For either someone is following me, talking to me, or I am simply losing my mind. At this point, I don't even know which of those would be worse. (Looks up at the sky.) If anyone's up there, help me somehow. Please. End Scene
21: Scene The MAN paces in his home, this time with a smile on his face and something the audience cannot distinguish in his hand. He seems indecisive and worrisome, and yet his smile remains and confuses. MAN: I'm gonna do it. I have to. It just seems right at this point. (Leaves house and walks a great distance to a small park, where he finds the woman seated on a park bench. This is almost identical to the first scene.) The WOMAN has her hands folded politely in her lap. She looks around and smiles and then looks back down at her hands. Hello there Junie. WOMAN smiles faintly You know, you really have helped me quite a bit with... Er, with the state of my life recently. When I had no one to talk to, you listened. You listened to every stupid and nonsensical word I had to say, and nothing I can say can ever make you understand how much I appreciate what you've done for me. I know I shouldn't have complained to you as much as I did, but it really helped me to find out How much of a wonderful person you are. I had no idea you were so sweet. WOMAN clears her throat quietly Don't even try to be modest my dear, I won't allow it. You're the only person that cared enough to save me from a terrible fate shall we say? WOMAN smoothes her dress absentmindedly
22: Well yes, that's the major thing that I much what I wanted to say. I just don't want you to be upset with me over what happened. I I hope you've forgiven me, that is. I have so much more to say, but I simply cannot continue if you are still angered with me over what happened the other day. WOMAN smiles rather largely as a cool summer breeze blows her way (MAN smiles just as large) Oh marvelous! Well. You have clearly been my only friend and the only person left in this world that seems to have any care for me at all. As you've heard me complain about before, I am oh so alone besides our fleeting conversations. No one should ever have to live alone; it really is a cruel life to be alone. So I began thinking (takes a deep breath) I began thinking that two people that appear to be ever so alone could help each other by... Preventing the loneliness of the other. Misery loves company, right? So why can’t loneliness be the same? (laughs nervously) It seemed fitting to me anyway. But anyway, June, I won't lie; I have loved you for sometime now. (Quietly) The first time I saw you I thought you were the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. (He looks up nervously waiting for a response) The WOMAN shows no reaction or change June? Junie, my love? Please say something. You're always so quiet and such a good listener, but you don't have to ignore your own feelings. Please say something. Tell me you love me as well? Tell me you hate me? Oh please, just say something to me. There must be something you can say to me. You must feel something. The WOMAN looks around confused. Why do you never speak to me, June? Why? (Almost hysterically) Are you afraid to speak? Are you afraid of me? You don't have to be afraid anymore. I love you. And I
23: can protect you from whatever you fear. Please don't be afraid. (Gets on his knees and take out a ring) Marry me, June? I swear I'll be whatever you want me to be. I need you. I love you. I can see the most perfect future for us (quietly, disappointedly) but you must say something first. The WOMAN does nothing.The MAN assumes she is rejecting him, but he is not ready to give up on the way he feels, his dreams for a better future. (He grabs the WOMAN'S hands in his) Please don't make me live without you, can't you... The MAN is cut off from his speech as the WOMAN jumps up from the bench and looks around in a panic. What is it my dear? The WOMAN begins frantically moving her hands, but the MAN doesn't understand what she's doing. What's going on? What's the problem? Why do you look so very terrified? Have I done something wrong? What is it? WOMAN: (in sign language) who's there? What's happening? Are you the one that's always around me? I knew there was someone. I knew it! Do you mean me harm? Oh my goodness, I couldn't stop you if I tried! I must get away from here. Home, home. (Runs off strategically, practically crying.) The MAN stares after her, still on his knees before the park bench with a wedding ring in his outstretched hand. His hand slowly drops as does his head. Curtain closes.
24: Starlight Tears An English Sonnet The stars, this night cry out, lost and alone Too free, cast by, each one, star in the sky Yet stuck in their place, nowhere they can roam, The starlight falls from starry eyes, they cry. Each shimmer, every trickle of star shine, Is naught but the tears of a solo star. Sadly, the stellar creatures can’t combine They must stay, far from others, as they are. But the world may keep its peace on this night For each starlight tear can fall on a smile. Each saddened star can give someone a light, Help someone lonely go the extra mile. Starlight tears inspire art in this life Their sparkling light is escape from strife.
25: Quiet Love, Silent Love An Italian Sonnet Quiet love, silent love, unknown to you. The words dare not escape my lips for fear Only one thing escapes, a single tear I hear my heart break, but that's nothing new. I daydream, though I know it is not true. The words I hope for, I will never hear. I long for your love, to have you so near, But in this place, I cannot be with you. Somewhere, someone waits, someone waits to see The magical love, that for them, you keep. I don't see it right, to steal what's not mine. It's clear that your heart is not meant for me, So I'll leave you your love that doesn't come cheap. Maybe love waits for me, somewhere in time.
26: Life A Villanelle What is left behind when we leave this world? Life’s work, reputation, does any of it stay, When our bodies retire to the earth, cold? Really there isn’t a point being bold, All reach the same place, no matter the way. What is left behind when we leave this world? All we have are the memories we hold, All else fades to dust, all else fades away When our bodies retire to the earth, cold. It matters not, if we are young or old When the time comes, that the world fades to grey. What is left behind when we leave this world? If meaning lies not in money or gold, What does have meaning, ponder if you may, When our bodies retire to the earth, cold. It’s the life in your moments, some do say, Not the moments in life, I have been told. What is left behind when we leave this world, When our bodies retire to the earth, cold?
27: Could, Would, Should. A Rondeau If I could tell you the answer, I would. What if I tell you I love you? I should. The world would be better if people cared, If love was all, and we need not be scared. All of the people could be understood. Out there in the darkness is where I stood It’d be nice if you had helped me. You could Have saved me from being lost, and despaired. Is anyone there? If I walked around, shaded by a hood Would it matter? You’d assume all was good. Couldn't see that for life, I was unprepared. Right when I needed you most. No one dared To help the girl, like you should have, you should... Is anyone there?
29: A shadow exists, that covers us all. A darkness that follows, even in light. Hide if you will, but it will never fall It lurks right there behind you, out of sight. A darkness that follows, even in light, A promise that we aren’t wholly pure, It lurks right there behind you, out of sight. If you ignore it, it stays, I assure. A promise that we aren’t wholly pure, Each single someone holds evil within. If you ignore it, it stays, I assure, Creeping down below, right under your skin. Each single someone holds evil within Although unfortunate, it is the truth. Creeping down below, right under your skin, Good and evil exist, even in youth Although unfortunate, it is the truth, And yet, a balanced weight weighs not a ton. Good and evil exist, even in youth, But each is essential to create one. | The Shadow in Us All: A Pantoum
30: I just can’t think of what to write, The right mixture of words to create art. There are those out there, That know the perfect ways, To make a poem without a care. But I, You see, Have no such luck. I sit here blankly, Stuck. I wish the words, Cold just flow from me, And dance off my fingertips. Or maybe they could fall, Right from my rosy lips. | Yet still, here I stay, Will no such hope, Of art appearing on this sheet. My mind is jumbled, lost in thought, As this poem remains imcomplete No art lies here, No poem for show, No beautiful creation. This empty page means naught to me, Much to my frustration. | Stuck. A free-verse