My first successful script
This is the first script I wrote that has been performed.
Troubled
Mature Content
Act 1: Solution
Scene 1: Stories Character: Male - young teen Setting: Sitting on a single chair with a single dim spotlight on him. People dressed in dark clothing are walking up to him, pretending to speak, and then leaving. Male: They always said that it's the happy ones you have to look out for. They were right. All of these people around me, they don't even know. They don't know about my life, my problems. They don't understand the things I go through every day. Why? Because I hide it, mask it under false emotions. Can they tell? Of course not, why would they have any reason to think they weren't real. I've never told them, never even hinted at my problems. They all come to me, asking me not to judge, not to tell anyone about their troubles and sorrows. They tell me stories of their life, of their "stressful situations." Do I judge? Yes. Do I tell? No. Why? Because my judgements are aimed towards myself, my life, in comparison to theirs. Sometimes the stories help, make me think "Hey, at least I don't have to put up with that. At least I don't have to deal with those problems." Why don't I tell anybody? Because I don't want to bother them, make them feel obligated to help in some way. I don't want their pity, their judgments. I want to face it myself, with nobody else. Then when it's over I can say "Hey, I overcame this, I didn't let it stop me, didn't let it hurt me. I won, under my own power. I won alone." Scene 2: Life Character: Male - now in middle teens Setting: Wearing bright clothing, sitting in chair. Two spotlights shine on him. Male: I've accepted death. It doesn't scare me. What does scare me is how I've lived life. Do I have regrets, doubts, problems that really mean nothing? Can I fix these things? Should I fix these things? The problem with accepting death is facing it, every day. I think about it all the time, in the weirdest places. You may think this is depressing but I believe it's a good change, a change that will enrich my life. I see things differently, as if I would never see them again. What got me thinking about this? I don't know, but I like it. I fix pointless problems, end ridiculous fights. I try to look for the good in everything, and forget about the bad. Now don't take this the wrong way. It's not like all of a sudden everything is just great, but everything is better, for the most part. Yes there are still fights and yes there are still problems, but I deal with them. (stands up and lights get brighter) From now on, I'm gonna look at things positively, with my head held high. From now on, life will be good. Act 2: Friend Scene 1: Help Character: Female – older teenager Setting: Sitting on floor in dark clothing. Very dim spotlight on her. Female: I can feel it. It is always descending upon me, trying to take me. I've always known it was here, always felt its presence. Now I know it wants me. I won't let it get me, can't let it. For years, I've fought it back, silently, alone. Nobody else has ever helped me. Nobody else knows. It has ravaged me but I hide it. I can't tell anyone. What would they say? They wouldn't understand. They wouldn't know, know what it's like. They never felt it crushing them. I am tired, tired of fighting, tired of pushing it back. My body wants me to give in, but my mind refuses. I can't let it get to me, can't let it in. It hates me and I can't deal with it any more. I need help, I'm being crushed. I can't fight it much longer, but I don't know where to turn. It has taken all my strength to last this long, I have no power left. My will is slipping and my body has already gone. There is nothing, nobody, no possible way, to stop this, to help me. I was in denial, but I have already gone. It is too late for me and I know it, I always knew it. It was always too late; I was just denying the inevitable. No, I refuse to give in, refuse to lose. It's not too late, I can do this, I can fight back. With a little bit of help I can win, I will win. It won't get me this time, I won't let it. All I need is a little help. Scene 2: Fight Character: Male – now older teenager Setting: Sitting on a chair with another chair beside but slightly behind him. An older teenaged female is sitting in this chair not moving. A single spotlight shines on him while he speaks to the audience. Male: I can see it. Your face shows it, even when you try to hide it. I can see how fake the smiles are, how it drags you down. I know what you're going through. They never stop, always yelling, always screaming. Do they ever think about us, about how it makes us feel? And that's not even the worst part. Then it gets worse afterwards, after the yelling and screaming. It's the pull from one side to the other, making us choose sides. This one is this, and that one did that. They want us to be on their side, see them as the hero, see the other as the villain. But in the end, they both seem like villains. What happens if we try to stop it? They get us involved, yell at us, scream at us. But the worst part of all is the next day, the day after everything. They act like they love each other, like nothing ever happened. At first, we think it's real, we think they won't ever do it again. But we know better now. We know it will happen again, maybe even that night. You don't have to go through this alone. I did, and I know you don't deserve it. I can help you, I will help you. All you have to do is ask. | Scene 3: Grateful
Characters: Male and Female – older teenagers Setting: Both sitting in chairs right beside each other with spotlights on both. Female: (to Male) Thank you. Act 3: Depression Scene 1: If Character: Female – young woman Setting: Sitting chair with empty chair beside her. A Single spotlight shines on the empty chair which is tipped over. An older teenage male and older teenage female wearing white act out happy moments in the background. Female: It should have been different. There were so many things, little things, that could have been different and then it never would have happened. When the bus drove by that morning I never gave it a second thought when he didn't get on. It was a normal occurrence. It could have happened any day, in fact it usually happened. It was a little weird when he didn't show up to school at all though, but I thought nothing of it. I mean, he could have been sick, or busy, or even just skipping. Nobody noticed it; there was a kid that wasn't at school for a day. That happened all the time; another normal occurrence. The bus drove past his driveway again that afternoon without stopping. When I got home my parents weren't there as always. I unlocked the door and went inside. I set down my backpack turned off the alarm and closed the door again. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a snack and walked into the living room; all normal occurrences. I turned on the TV to see what was on but something caught my eye. I stopped and just stood there staring. There he was, on the TV. I couldn't move. It was as if my heart had stopped but my mind was racing. He was dead. How could this be, I had just been talking to him the night before. They said that if he hadn't have leaned against the window, his head wouldn't have sustained nearly as much injury and he would have survived. If their car had been just one foot farther ahead, if the children in the other car hadn't have been so distracting, if he hadn't been listening to music so loud, he could have heard the car coming and moved, if, if, IF! So many ifs that could have been but weren't! And why weren't they? Why couldn't he have stayed over at my place and lived? I had known him all of my life. All of my life without depression that is. He had always said live each day like it was your last. I always said that sounded weird coming from a teenager but he would tell me that it didn't matter how old you were because it could still be your last day. It was his last day without him knowing it and he had lived it, the way he had wanted to. That day changed me but I still ask why. Why couldn't just one of those ifs, even one of the smaller seemingly more insignificant ones have not been an if? Why couldn't my friend have lived? Scene 2: Funeral Character: Four people, dressed in black. Setting: Dim lights, no chairs on stage. The four people walk across the stage holding a chair like pole bearers. Scene 3: Sleep Character: Female – young woman, Setting: Standing in white dress with eerie light behind her silhouetting her Female: Wrap yourself up. You've waited for this moment for quite some time now, and have planned it out step by step. Check to make sure that everything is set up perfectly. You make yourself comfortable and take a minute more to mentally prepare yourself. Begin. At first it feels strange and alien, and it scares you, but you accept it quickly. You can't help struggling at first, but your effort slows as you lose energy. The room begins to blur and spin. Close your eyes, and wait for it. You feel yourself slipping, slowly, into darkness. (Lights begin to fade) You're mind stops thinking about what you're doing. Finally, sleep envelops you. (Lights down) |