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Rated: 13+ · Script/Play · Other · #1912854
A scene from a screenplay.
Scene one: Which takes place in the middle of the show

Two chairs are placed back to back. They are in front of an end table with a tape recorder on it, next to the end table is a well-worn rocking chair. Father (John) and Mother (Sarah) sit in their own respective chairs. They don't look at each other. An eleven year old girl, Samantha, pushes play on the tape recorder, sets; a squirt gun, a pitcher of water and a glass next to the tape recorder, and then she sits down in the rocking chair. She pulls out a notepad and flips through her notes until she reaches the right page. She pulls out a pocket watch and looks at the face of it.

Samantha

(clicking the watch shut) Alright, the time is 7:32 p.m on December 23, the year is 1983.

Her father begins to talk but she hushes him with a stern look.

Samantha

Patients John and Sarah Perkins. Cause of visit, marital discourse. Let us begin.

She pours herself a glass of water from the pitcher, and drinks from it and a very controlled and deliberate way.

Samantha

Now John you cite, as a cause of discourse, that you find Sarah aloof and unfeeling.

John

(deadpan)That's not what I said, I called her an icy bitch. She doesn't respect me, all she does is criticize me. I feel as though I can't get a word in around...

Sarah reaches over a slaps John's head. Sarah is a small mousy woman, thin. Her biggest attribute and detriment is her vulture-like stare. She attributes it to her "keen ability to see through lies." John hates her for it.

SAMANTHA

John, you continue.

JOHN

Thanks, honey. (points at pitcher) Could I get a glass of water?

Samantha points to the one cup present. John nods and stands up. He reaches over and grabs the pitcher. He sits down and begins to drink from it.

JOHN

As I was saying,(John drinks from the pitcher, his hands are shaking and he spills some onto himself) Sarah has never honored my wish to become an artist, she's always belittling me, discrediting me in front of friends. It makes my life a living hell

SARAH

What are you talking about? I took up a second job to let you become an artist! I'm not ever home to see your stupid paintings.

John

THEY AREN'T STUPID!

Samantha squirts the two with a squirt gun. Jots down a few notes and speaks.

SAMANTHA

Mommy, it was John's turn to speak, you will get your turn when he is done, that's how therapy works.

SARAH

Why are you giving us therapy? You're eleven years old for Pete's sake, you should be coloring, not saving marriages and reading psychological reports from Dr. So and So on the brain passages of blah. What happened to you?

JOHN

We have a remarkable little girl, now I would like to resume speaking please.

Samantha nods in the affirmative towards him.

JOHN

Ever since that "misunderstanding" last November, Sarah and I have been drifting apart.

SARAH

Misunderstanding? You had sex with another woman. That's not a misunderstanding

JOHN

She was loving and sensual, unlike you. I have needs that weren't being fulfilled. So I dealt with them like a normal human being. Also, I miss her every day. If you treated me better I wouldn't have tramped around the town.

Sarah

You listen to me, I have always treated you with respect, you... you... you chauvinistic pig

John

It was my turn (shouting) I was talking and you had no right to interrupt me. This is how you always behave, cold and unfeeling.

SARAH

How would you like it if I whored myself out to any man I met on the street? Oh, John isn't satisfying me at all conceivable hours, I should go be involved in an orgy. Would you like that? Would you like it if I behaved like you? Someone had to keep this family afloat, it had to be me.

John stands up in anger, a squirt from Samantha made him sit again.

JOHN

If you had only appreciated what I was doing, this wouldn't have happened. I am making art here, and I'm damn good at it. I was voted Trenton's Best New Artist, but you wouldn't know about that, would you? You don't listen to me.

Sarah puts her head in her hands.

Sarah

That's the problem, you aren't new anymore, it's time to grow up. You are 43 years old. Get a real job, be more mature. Everything is always about you; your art, your family, your house, your lover. When can I start thinking about me. I didn't want some brat kid and a deadbeat husband, I wanted to explore the world, why can't I do things I want to do anymore?

John looks indignant, he dumps the pitcher onto Sarah's head.

JOHN

Immature? I will soon be supporting this family with my art, you should face reality. Let's not forget (shouting) that it's my turn.

Samantha jots down a few notes on her pad, nods, and then squirts her parents twice with the squirt gun.

Samantha

It was John's turn, Sarah please wait for your turn. Don't be put down, this is excellent progress.

Sarah sits back in her chair disgruntled. John slouches.

John

I have nothing more to say, you've ruined my life, and I hate you for it.

John gets up and leaves, he grabs a coat off of the coat rack and exits the house. Samantha and Sarah sit in silence. A car starts up and leaves to the East, the sound fading in the background.

Sarah

(still seated) I hate you too John, I made this marriage work for her. (points at Samantha) You think I didn't want to leave. This house makes me feel trapped and confined. If you're leaving, I can do it to. (shouting) you hear that? I'm leaving. We're getting a divorce John.

Sarah stands up, with a curt nod to Samantha she picks up a coat from the rack and walks out the door. Samantha tries to pull on her arm, but she shrugs her off and leaves. She is seen walking down the street to the West and into the distance, towards the Airport on this side of the city. Samantha cries a little but holds back the tears as the finishes the session.

Samantha

The time is 8:04, December 22,1983. Both patients have left the session, it is unknown as to whether they will return. The session is concluded.

Samantha picks up her recorder and note pad. She heads to the room adjacent and comes back with a back pack, she loads the note pad, the tape recorder, and money into the bag. She picks up the last coat on the rack and heads out, for a second she lingers, looking deciding which way to go. She decides to walk North, away from either of her parents

End Scene

© Copyright 2013 Drake Mills (furtherinmind at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1912854-The-Girl-and-her-Children