NOVEMBER PLAYWRITING CHALLENGE

November 12 AND 13: PULL ME UNDER

PROMPT: THE IDEA OF WEIGHT

SCENE 1

(A breakfast table a woman SUE sit. Her teenage daughter IZZY comes to the table.)

IZZY

Hi mom, I gotta go.

SUE

It’s only 7:10, surely you have time to sit down and eat…something…anything. 

IZZY

I’m actually running late. I have a study group at school and some bassoon practicing I want to get it before the day officially starts. I didn’t sleep well I hope to rise above it.

SUE

You had that dream again? 

IZZY

(Cagy)

Maybe…No…what difference does it make?

SUE

It makes a difference because I love you and contrary to popular teen opinion I want to hear things about your life. So she’s back again? 

IZZY

It’s not a dream.

SUE

It’s not a dream? Are you trying to tell me there’s actually a woman that rises out of pond outside every night.

IZZY

She’s there, I can see her footprints

SUE

Where are they now?

IZZY

They’re dry now but they’re there!

SUE

I worry about you love.

IZZY

I’m fine, I just have stuff I need to get done. To accomplish…to start my life off on the right foot. I don’t want to talk about this any more. 

SUE

But Izzy.

IZZY

No buts…I gotta go. Love you Mom.

END SCENE 1

SCENE 2

(Izzy is alone on stage. As the monologue the woman who portrays the woman in the pond comes up behind her.)

IZZY

I can’t really remember when it first started. Maybe she was always with me but up until a certain point I feel like maybe she was my friend or something? She looks tortured because she’s definitely like…dead. But there almost seems like there’s a placidness to her somehow. The first time I remember seeing her, I think it was 8^th grade. We had a spelling test at the end of the school year. The words were hard, there was a prize. The winner of the spelling bee would get to do the homeroom announcements over the loudspeaker. It had to be me, I had the most pristine speaking voice, like I was a newscaster or a flight attendant. But Nancy, this other girl in school wanted it too. Nancy always wanted to one up me and though she was prettier than I was she was not going to get this one from me. Jesus did I study hard. And on the day of the spelling test, between the words “throttle” and “pharmaceutical” I looked out the classroom window and saw this woman, she looked to be about 25. She was staring at me. She didn’t look sad, she didn’t look frightening she just looked like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Earlier in the school year we read Arthur Miller’s “The Crucible” and when we got to the part where Giles Corey died, that really had an effect of me. What would it feel like to feel that immense pressure and it gets so intense and then…nothing. You’re gone. You’re looking down at your body like you’re a squashed fly. Yes it probably really hurt…but that release. Wow. This woman looked like what I imagined how Giles felt during his ordeal. I won the spelling bee by the way, suck it Nancy. Then I remember seeing her, let’s see…I saw her when I was a freshmen and Bobby, my boyfriend and I did it for the first time. But ever since this year she seems to follow me everywhere, when I’m looking at colleges, when I read too many think pieces online how women are ruining the workplace, shit like that. I know nothing about her but she just seems to…be there. 

(Izzy leaves center stage, Sue takes over.)

SUE

I know these things, this woman, seems real to her. But I know they aren’t. I know because I’ve seen them too. Not a woman coming out of a pond, but a man whom I remember seeing when I was in fifth grade. It was my first dance. I remember being so nervous, the dress I wore was pretty enough but I distinctly remember all the accolades the girls who had more amply cleavage got over the other more modest girls. So I waited until my father had dropped me off and I snuck some xlenex out of my purse and stuffed my bra as much as I could. Then as I was turning to walk into the gym I saw this boy, around 17 years old. He was staring at me, he looked so all knowing yet sad at the same time. Then he crumpled and disappeared. Like one of those acme anvils from those old Looney Tones cartoons just fell on him. But then he was gone. But it wasn’t the last time I saw him. When my mother was critiquing my home, when other mothers were making fun of Izzy. He was there. Could it be connected?