(A young man is sitting on the lower bed of his bunk bed in a small dark prison cell leaning against the wall. He’s wearing ripped grey trousers with a navy blue t-shirt that is stained. He starts scratching the stubble on his face and leans under his pillow to pull out a piece of chalk and draws a small line on the wall)
Day 63…only 302 more days left. Not that long left then I suppose. Im still breathing, although the asthma doesn’t seem to be settling down any time soon. But I feel as though im on the edge of it now, you know wa’ I mean. Like you know, this is it, nowhere else to go. And its only been one third of my total time. Wait , yh that’s right, one third. Yh I was always good at maths, always top of the class and knew algebra inside out. I could work out anything me, pity I couldn’t work this one out init.
(He moves on his bed and lays down facing the bunk above him and speaks as if he were speaking to the bed itself)
He was all brains up there. John was his name. He seemed like an average normal guy. I mean, he was a good lad. Polite, clever, good looking. Reminded me of me at one point. ‘Never let life bring you down, always make sure your on top of things not the other way round’. That was what he always said and he stuck by his words as well. He never seemed depressed not even when he came home one day and found out his kitchen pipe has burst. ‘These things happen, thank god for yellow pages init’, that’s what he said. Thought of that to be weird to tell you the truth but it wasn’t really my problem. He said he had a son bob who was three. Born on the same day as my lil’ boy would you believe. We had a lot in common. But I guess you really shouldn’t judge a book by its cover because not everything is as clear as it seems. John wasn’t. He was someone trapped inside life. Someone who didn’t know how to fight against the biggest enemy anyone can have. Himself. That’s how he wasn’t like me. I could handle life. Us big men can handle pressure.
(Takes a long deep breath)
John was different. He changed from being that polite clever good looking guy to someone who was obnoxious and who’s personality had become as shit as the life he lived. He just changed overnight like this British bloody weather. He started crying and instantly laughing’ for no reason one day. Always punching and kicking anything in his sight. Coughed up blood now and then too. Never understood that. I just had to help him. I had to be there for him. He would’ve done the same. That day when he called me I knew I had to help. He even fucked up Bob. It was then when I was sure that I was doing the right thing. Told him I’d be there in 15 minutes like usual, but that day I got there in 9. Must’ve rushed a little on my way. Maybe I panicked or maybe I was just excited. I still don’t understand how I felt on my way there that day. I was all over the place I guess. He was in the shower when I came. I had to do it. I had to tie the rope around the shower head. He made me. Didn’t force me, but made me. Im glad I did too. He needed help, I helped him therefore I did a good deed. Yh a bloody good deed.
(He gets up and walks towards a pile of clothes and pulls out a picture of his son. Stroking the picture, he returns to his bed and kneels beside it)
Your mother thinks I was wrong son. But I wasn’t. I know I wasn’t .I helped him. Friends do that. She just doesn’t fucking understand. She’s a woman. Always thinking with her brain more then her heart. Silly cow. Don’t worry son Il be out soon. Soon as possible. I didn’t kill him, I helped free him. They all call me heartless, a murderer. The other prisoners say it, even the walls repeat it now. But im not fucking heartless, im just nice. the only problem, was that I was too fucking nice. Some say his end came to soon but I say that it came at just the right moment. Im not angry im here, im fucking angry because they don’t understand. They’re the wrong ones. Not me. They just don’t fucking understand. They never will.
Hi Yaz
ReplyDeleteYou have really begun to open this piece out.There is now more of an interaction between John and Hasan and this brings them both to life for me. I think you could make this more so by perhaps letting Hasan recall his response to John's chilled comment about his water pipe bursting. And you could also edit down 'he said he had a son Bob who was three' to 'he had a son, Bob, who was three.' This allows us to see for ourselves the relationship between John and Bob.
In your 4th para, you still need to focus down more on the day Hasan helped John to kill himself. You could start general, with Hasan noticing John's behaviour changes, or you could be brave and just go straight into the day in question. This will be a real kick in the gut for the audience!
I still feel that I need to know what John did to Bob to 'fuck him up', because what happened to Bob seems to be an important factor in Hasan deciding to help John kill himself.
And what was John's behaviour like this day? It had to be so extreme that Hasan decided to help put John out of his misery. This section needs to be really powerful, or we don't believe Hasan's reasons for doing what he did. We may think 'why didn't he just call the police?'
And wehen Hasan went round to John's house in response to his phone call, what was said to make him dash round there? Why did he feel he had to get round there quickly? And having Hasan excited about what he might find at John's house slightly unbalances the narrative for me.You may have to stick with one dominant emotion here - the fear that John is going to do something terrible.
Which he is, and when Hasan realises what John has done to Bob, he is going to help him do that terrible thing. That is why I think what happened to Bob needs to be brought out more, because I think it is part of Hasan's motivation to help kill John. When Hasan looks at his own son's photo when he is in prison, it makes me think that he did what he did to John because of what happened to Bob and because he is a dad too and perhaps couldn't forgive what John did to his son?
And to hang someone, you need a good anchor point and a good drop. To hang someone from a shower head isn't hanging, it's strangulation, so did Hasan strangle John? Strong stuff if he did, and yes, he is then a murderer. And he has realised this? And his statement about being a big man able to handle pressure now begins to look a little hollow!
Your end para is much stronger. You could explore ending it with Hasan coming to terms about what he did, and this realisation coming out of the argument he has with himself about being right to kill John. IWhat does Hasan feel he has gained and lost by killing John? Who benefitted from it? Who lost out? These are questions Hasan could be starting to ask himself and it would make his looking at his son's photo the more poignant, because if his wife disagrees with what he did, then Hasan won't be seeing his son for a very long time, if ever again. So who won and who lost, really? This is something I would like to see Hasan begin to live through!
Hope this helps!
ann g
Not much to add to Ann's fantastic comments, other than to say I, too, really liked the way you have opened this out, and you've clearly worked really hard on it.
ReplyDeleteIt perhaps gets a little overlong as a result, and lacks that conciseness which can distinguish the very best writing, but, when you retain the character's distinctive vernacular, it remains compelling stuff. Well done!