[ A young 23 year old man sits on the steps outside his house while his older 37 year old wife leans on the window to the right of him ]
Heather: So what are your plans for today then Hun?
Mark: The same as the last two months. Get up, eat , go to bed.
Heather: Stop exaggerating. Thought you wanted to go out somewhere.
Mark: Well I wanted to go out but I guess I can’t.
Heather: Why not?
Mark: You bloody well know why!
Heather: No I don’t!
Mark: To go out somewhere you need somewhere to go and someone to go with. In this isolated place I have no friends and I see you every minute of the bleeding day so no point going anywhere with you is there.
Heather: There’s no point getting angry at me. You wanted to move out here just as much as I did.
[ He gets up and takes a few paces forward ]
Mark: No I didn’t. It was you who wanted to move out here. I just wanted to make you happy but you’re still complaining.
Heather: Darling I am happy.
Mark: No you’re not. You’re constantly nagging me.
Heather: Im just trying to make sure your happy too.
Mark: Well im not. I hate this place. I cant even get a decent job out here. You’ve got your job that’s the reason we moved out here to get closer to your job. That’s the only reason.
Heather: No we moved out here to start the family we were planning for three years.
Mark: A family of what; cows?
Heather: No need for the tantrums.
Mark: Tantrums? You sound like my bleeding mo…
Heather: Your what? Carry on!
Mark: Fine. You sound like my bleeding mother. Always nagging me and telling me what to do and what not to do.
Heather: Well maybe if you acted more like a man instead of a lousy kid I wouldn’t have to treat you like one.
Mark: Oh god now you sound like dad.
Heather: Well one of us has to be the strong one.
[ He walks back to his wife and leans on the window next to her ]
Mark: You know what… Dad was right. You are to old for me. I don’t think i love you anymore . I dont think i ever did.
Heather: Oh don’t be silly. Just because you’re angry doesn’t mean you need to say things you’re going to regret.
Mark: The only thing I regret is lusting after you. The older woman.This isn’t how I want my life to be. The dogs the only one thats happy. Looks like he’s having the time of his life. I want to be like him. Free.
[ He stares at his wife, sighs and walks inside the house with his head hanging down ]
Showing posts with label YAZ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label YAZ. Show all posts
Saturday, 3 May 2008
TASK 23 VERY LATE =]
[Snow white sitting by the window in her wooden house and is on the phone to Cinderella who is laying on her bed in her gigantic room. They both hear a loud thud]
SW: Oh good gracious.
C: What was that? What happened?
SW: Its just grumpy hurling himself at the wall again. Honestly you’d think living with seven little guys would be easy but they’re just as mad as seven normal men.
C: Well that depends on what you define as normal.
SW: Oh some off it Cindz. I’d give anything to live with a handsome husband like yours.
C: Snowy believe me, there’s nothing charming about my prince.
SW: Cindz, you were always one to complain weren’t you. I see marriage hasn’t changed you
[She smiles to herself]
C: Shut it you.
SW: Did you hear about that little red riding hood. Heard she’s been to see her grandmother again.
C: Bless her. She’s just trying to help her grandmother feel better.
SW: That little wretch. Nearly got eaten alive last time. Thinks she’s invincible.
Its ‘coz she’s been hanging round with that little miss ‘my hairs longer and better than yours’. You know that little Rapunzel.
C: You’ve got to hand it to her though. She’s gorgeous.
SW: No wonder your step sisters hate her. Jealous cows. Don’t know what they’re jealous about though, they’re gorgeous themselves right Cindz?
[She chuckles]
C: Snowy you really need to stop bitching about other people. You wouldn’t like it if someone bitched about you.
SW: Oh please everyone loves me. Who’s gonna bad mouth me? You? Haha don’t think so.
C: Why don’t you just go and eat some red apples you greedy pig.
SW: [She takes a deep breath]
Cindz… I cant believe you’d go that far. You know im still traumatised.
C: Take a chill pill babes you know I was just messing. ( She says mimicking snow whites voice)
[There’s a loud knock at SW’s door]
SW: Well I’d love to chat and gossip [she says sarcastically] but your husbands at my door. Got to go and teach him everything you cant. [ She cackles and hastily hangs up]
SW: Oh good gracious.
C: What was that? What happened?
SW: Its just grumpy hurling himself at the wall again. Honestly you’d think living with seven little guys would be easy but they’re just as mad as seven normal men.
C: Well that depends on what you define as normal.
SW: Oh some off it Cindz. I’d give anything to live with a handsome husband like yours.
C: Snowy believe me, there’s nothing charming about my prince.
SW: Cindz, you were always one to complain weren’t you. I see marriage hasn’t changed you
[She smiles to herself]
C: Shut it you.
SW: Did you hear about that little red riding hood. Heard she’s been to see her grandmother again.
C: Bless her. She’s just trying to help her grandmother feel better.
SW: That little wretch. Nearly got eaten alive last time. Thinks she’s invincible.
Its ‘coz she’s been hanging round with that little miss ‘my hairs longer and better than yours’. You know that little Rapunzel.
C: You’ve got to hand it to her though. She’s gorgeous.
SW: No wonder your step sisters hate her. Jealous cows. Don’t know what they’re jealous about though, they’re gorgeous themselves right Cindz?
[She chuckles]
C: Snowy you really need to stop bitching about other people. You wouldn’t like it if someone bitched about you.
SW: Oh please everyone loves me. Who’s gonna bad mouth me? You? Haha don’t think so.
C: Why don’t you just go and eat some red apples you greedy pig.
SW: [She takes a deep breath]
Cindz… I cant believe you’d go that far. You know im still traumatised.
C: Take a chill pill babes you know I was just messing. ( She says mimicking snow whites voice)
[There’s a loud knock at SW’s door]
SW: Well I’d love to chat and gossip [she says sarcastically] but your husbands at my door. Got to go and teach him everything you cant. [ She cackles and hastily hangs up]
Friday, 7 March 2008
Hasan-Redraft
(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.
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.
Saturday, 23 February 2008
Hasan
(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. Never quite understood why he wanted to end up there. I mean, he was a good lad. Polite, clever, good looking. Reminded me of me at one point. 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. Some say his end came to soon. God knows why he all of a sudden went mad. That’s the way he wasn’t like me. I could handle life. I didn’t search for death at every hurdle. Us big men can handle pressure.
(takes a long deep breath)
John was different. He started crying and instantly laughin’ for no reason one day. Always punching and kicking anything in his sight. He even fucked up bob one day. Coughed up blood now and then too. Never understood that. But I had to help him. That day when he called me I knew I had to help. 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 helped him. Friends do that. She doesn’t 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 heartless, im just nice. the only problem, was that I was too nice.
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. Never quite understood why he wanted to end up there. I mean, he was a good lad. Polite, clever, good looking. Reminded me of me at one point. 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. Some say his end came to soon. God knows why he all of a sudden went mad. That’s the way he wasn’t like me. I could handle life. I didn’t search for death at every hurdle. Us big men can handle pressure.
(takes a long deep breath)
John was different. He started crying and instantly laughin’ for no reason one day. Always punching and kicking anything in his sight. He even fucked up bob one day. Coughed up blood now and then too. Never understood that. But I had to help him. That day when he called me I knew I had to help. 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 helped him. Friends do that. She doesn’t 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 heartless, im just nice. the only problem, was that I was too nice.
Wednesday, 6 February 2008
Sorry? Yh right!
He looks at her with disbelieving eyes
He watches her when even he’s not seen
He listens to her indecisive lies
He observes that inside she’s pure obscene
He feels that she does nothing but deceive
He senses that its time he should move on.
His feelings are not clear as they can be,
Perhaps he’ll heed them when she’s far and gone.
Perplexity was simply to be blamed
Which left him to feel nothing but regret
For that soul who played fair in this love game
And in return acquired pure neglect
His comfort words were commonly unique
‘Im sorry’. Oh what words of sympathy.
He watches her when even he’s not seen
He listens to her indecisive lies
He observes that inside she’s pure obscene
He feels that she does nothing but deceive
He senses that its time he should move on.
His feelings are not clear as they can be,
Perhaps he’ll heed them when she’s far and gone.
Perplexity was simply to be blamed
Which left him to feel nothing but regret
For that soul who played fair in this love game
And in return acquired pure neglect
His comfort words were commonly unique
‘Im sorry’. Oh what words of sympathy.
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