Title: Nothing
by John from Kent | in writing, fiction
Lights go up over a hotel room. Centre stage is dominated by a single bed with drab colours. On the left of the bed there is a clean, cream desk area with a kettle and selection of teas, coffees, sugars and milk. On the right is a chair, next to a small table housing the room's telephone. After a few seconds the sound of a key-card beeping in a lock, and the solid clunk of a hotel door-handle is heard offstage. A middle-aged man in a black suit and tie with a white shirt arrives on stage. His shirt is half untucked and his tie is askew. He enters from stage right and flops onto the bed. He then kicks his shoes off before rising and starts to busy himself with the kettle.
In the middle selecting the tea, the phone begins to ring and shocks him into dropping his selections. He crosses to the phone, forgetting the dropped packets.
John: Hello?
There is a pause.
John: Yeah, thanks for ringing. I suppose Mary gave you this number?
Another pause.
John: She's always so helpful'I'm doing fine '
Yet another pause, but John sits down on the chair, slumped cradling the phone to himself.
John: Yes he' (his voice breaks and he attempts to not cry)'sorry. Dad passed away four hours ago. I think the funeral is being arranged. I don't know.
During the next pause John composes himself with deep breaths.
John: He talked a lot... I stayed up with him. I know I never agreed with him about those criminals he protected. (John laughs bitterly) It was never law. Always morally grey.
He pauses for a moment of reflection.
John: But' I stayed with him to the end. Just me and him. He could have said something' he could have just said anything' He... (his voice breaks again)'said nothing. (angrily) I have to live with that!
He slams the phone down before kicking the bed and collapsing onto it.
John: 'nothing'
He curls up on the bed and the lights dim to a fade.
The story centres around a man who, after the death of his father, is distraught by the emotional void that is left unhealed. He returns to his hotel room only to confront the truth of his situation to an unknown relative. Although the differences between his father and himself are in the open, he gains little solace. The audience is left hoping he can eventually find forgiveness for his father and continue his life without regret. This is a purely fictional work that I was inspired to write after seeing the dramas of Stephen Poliakoff such as Joe's Palace, Friends and Crocodiles and Capturing Mary, and I decided that I would write my script on the idea of inherited identity. The idea that your identity is moulded by the actions of your parents, as well as by the actions of yourself.
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