The Dark I Know Well

A look into the life of a teenager with a very... interesting... view on the lives of the people around her. What is going through the minds of teenagers- the uncensored edition.

Prologue

Every person on the face of this planet we inhabitants call Earth has a different perspective. An example of this would be beauty. To some, beauty may be flawless skin, deeply tanned legs, and all of the jewelry and clothing in the world. To others, it is the first day of spring, or the very first musical note of a heart-felt symphony. To myself, however, beauty is somewhat more complicated than others may perceive it to be. Beauty, in my eyes, is viewing a street performer during rush hour in the middle of Grand Central Station, or adolescents playing tag in the park, excuse me, playground. The point is, beauty is purely subjective to each individual, therefore no standard of beauty can be set for others to vie for. Beauty is art, and art is beauty. Or, like the famous proverb says, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." Likewise, without art, life as we know it would cease to exist. No music, no photography, no film, no drawings, no colorful, uplifting philosophical sayings. Nothing, save for a sense of desolation and despair inside each of our souls. The only thing we would have left are simple variations of tired, over-processed thoughts that would be way too analytical to put up with. And quite honestly, who wants that as a part of their inner being...

Dedicated to Him, for showing me that the normalcy that everyone else around me is trying so hard to achieve simply doesn't exist. Normalcy, in their senses, as well as virtue and moral, cannot be proven, even to this day.

Based on true events that happened during the 2008-2009 School Year, as well as the current school year. Time Span will be Present Day. All characters are heavily based on real people. All real-life references and names will be kept confidential, as to not disrupt any person's privacy. All religious views expressed in the following play do not in any way, shape, or form belong to those of whom this work is based on.

Act 1, Scene 1

(A dark room. No lighting. No furniture to speak of. Only a desolate area... as well as silence. Two people, a young man and a young woman, enter the space. Judging by the size of said room, it is most likely a theatre, maybe a high school auditorium.)

SEPHORA

(Calling out.) Dean! Are you there? Turn on some lights; I can barely see two feet in front of my face!

(Dean tiptoes behind SEPHORA, and gives her shoulders a light squeeze. Surprised, SEPHORA leaps into the air, and turns around. When she spots Dean, she becomes furious.)

SEPHORA

(Punches Dean on the shoulder.) You are so stupid! That wasn't funny!

DEAN

Maybe not for you. For myself, on the other hand, scaring the hell out of you just now really made my day. Kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?

SEPHORA

(Hesitant.) Makes me wonder about what, exactly?

DEAN

You know, the whole concept of fear that our society has basically bestowed upon us. How we should all be afraid of dying, for example., the supposed "sinners," I mean to say. In Christianity, they continuously brainwash believers into being terrified of doing anything even remotely regarded as "bad," even if not for self gain. The concept of Heaven and Hell, too, is intriguing. I mean, seriously, think about it. A higher power, in this case, God, deciding where everyone, every creature, including you and I, belong in the Afterlife. Are we evil or good? Contaminated or clean? Incurably dirty or pure as untouched snow? Understand what I'm saying?

SEPHORA

Kind of. But some of it must be true. It is in the Bible, after all.

DEAN

True. But then again, how can we mere mortals prove that the Holy Bible is not a simple product of imagination, a combination of fairy tale and myth. A mere falsehood in a world dominated by modern science, which is on its way to becoming our nation's leading religion.

SEPHORA

I guess you're right, however loath I am to admit it. Tell me, how do you know so much about this kind of stuff? I mean, we're juniors in high school, we're only sixteen.

DEAN

(Simply.) By reading. (Jokingly.) And maybe playing too much Super Smash Bros. It teaches me about morality, I suppose. How power can corrupt us all if we choose to pursue it to a destructive extent. How weak we can become if we lose sight of our objectives.

SEPHORA

So you're telling me all this... for what? To warn me? To persuade me into thinking like you? When I'm playing Mario Kart, or Mario Party even, I'm only thinking about one thing: beating everybody and coming out victorious as the number one champion.

DEAN

As do I. But I try to keep my mind on the philosophical aspects just the same. It's pretty interesting, if you think about it.

SEPHORA

I guess. (Pauses.) What's with the whole philosophical mood lately? Preparing to become the next Aristotle, perhaps?

DEAN

(Grinning.) Who knows? Maybe I'll even try to become a tattoo artist in the near future?

SEPHORA

(Skeptically.)You like tattoos?

DEAN

Yeah. Well, not particularly. But I do like to draw; you know that from when I drew you in class a few weeks ago. And I'm working on a new concept for my fantasy story right now, the one I showed you on my laptop when Phelps was absent, and we had a substitute.

SEPHORA

(Laughing.) I remember that drawing! It was pretty good, well, better than what Aaron drew me like anyway. He made me look like a witch, with a pointy nose and everything! The whole experience has left me completely traumatized! Actually, I was pretty surprised I came out looking... normal.

DEAN

Meaning?

SEPHORA

Well, you know as well as I that I'm not the most attractive girl on the block.

DEAN

(Appearing angry.) If you're trying to seek sympathy, then you won't get it from me.

SEPHORA

(Confused.) Pardon me?

DEAN

You're pretty, and you know it. And stop saying how you hate the way you look all the time. You're not the younger version of Mrs. Pinky, the school elephant and you're definitely not ugly, so just grow up already. Besides, how can you think so, by the way some of these guys act around you?

SEPHORA

I don't believe it. I'm on the upside of average... maybe. But I am definitely not what you think I am.

DEAN

(Lowers his voice.) You are beautiful, smart, and lots of fun to be around. You are funny, too, which has cheered me up, even if I don't let you know about it. You talk too much sometimes, and maybe too loud and you can be moody, but that's what I like about you. You are one of the only people who I can actually realte to like this.

SEPHORA

(Starting to believe him.) Wow... thanks. You're great too. You're smart, and deep, and athletic, and... oh, God, I think I'm rambling again...

DEAN

(Laughing.) It's okay. Stop talking and breathe. We have all of biology class to continue this conversation, along with you trying to make Vanessa die of laughter, that is.

SEPHORA

(Playfully.) Okay, whatever you say. Tell me, Dean, why do you always have to know everything?

DEAN

I'm glad you're finally beginning to realize that I can never be wrong.

SEPHORA

(Pretending to be sarcastic.) Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny. (Hears the bell ring, signaling the end of their lunch period.) We'd better go; don't want to be late.

DEAN

(Grinning.) Yeah, wouldn't want to miss the chance to make a few sex-related jokes, now, would you?

SEPHORA

You know me way too well.

DEAN

(Looks her way as they both exit the theatre, walking side by side. Mumbles quietly to himself.) Maybe not that well.

End Scene 1

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Poetic Interlude

I pray to a God but he never seems to answer me.
I try to smile but all I do is cry.
Darkness imprisoning me. It is all that I see.
What is life without love and companionship?

Break me down. 'Cause you're so damn superficial.
Beating me senseless with your cruel words.
Outcast- the one who is trying to save you all.
Seek my blood as you slowly murder me.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Act 1, Scene 2

(A cloudy, rainy morning. The air feels chilly and moist. SEPHORA arrives to class early today; patiently awaiting the arrival of her fellow classmates. As she appreciates the final moments of silence that she will have to herself until she gets home at four this afternoon, a familiar face enters the classroom doorway; earphones in ears, head bowed down, jacket zipped up to his collar.)

DEAN
(Carefully dettaching the earphones from himself, gently tucking them into the back pocket of his jeans.) Hey. (Surveying SEPHORA'S clearly distraught, deep-in-thought expression.) Rough night?

SEPHORA
(Realizing that DEAN is standing right in front of her, staring at her with a concerned look upon his face. Her thoughts slowly cease as she figures out that homeroom is about to begin.) Huh? Oh, no... just... thinking, I suppose.

DEAN
(Taking the seat directly in front of SEPHORA. Swings himself around to face her directly.) About what, exactly?

SEPHORA
(Avoiding DEAN'S question.) Do you ever think about death?

DEAN
(Confused, and just a tad intrigued.) Death? Yeah, sometimes. Why the sudden depressed attitude? What's wrong?

SEPHORA
(Abruptly.) Do you believe in heaven and hell?

DEAN
Yes... at least, I'd like to think so. I mean, hell is rumored to be a pretty terrible place... or so people say. But the idea of heaven makes me feel safe somehow. Like, after I die, I know that life, or the afterlife, rather,  will finally be peaceful and without pain. Not to say that I'm going to go off myself. My life may not be that great, but I don't think it's serious enough to constitute suicide.

SEPHORA
Don't you ever become depresed sometimes, when you think of all the s****y things happening in the world today, or even just to you when you're having a bad day? Do you ever just want to cry until not tears are left inside fo you?

DEAN
(Voice lowers, and a somewhat glazed look fills his dark brown, nearly oynx, eyes.) Me? I haven't cried in years. (By the emotionless tone his voice has taken, SEPHORA decides to avoid furthering the question of why DEAN has not shed a tear in years. However, she promises herself that she will not let the subject drop. In fact, she will be sure to bring it up again at a later date, sooner rather than later.)

SEPHORA
Hmm... I really wish that I was a mere child again. Things used to be so much simpler back then, so pure and innocent. We were poor, but that hardly mattered. Our close-knit tribe of family and friends more than made up for the lack of money we possessed. I just want to be happy again. Like I used to be. (The last sentence is added in a whisper, but DEAN still hears it, and it makes him want to know SEPHORA more, maybe so he can help her, and she him.)

DEAN
Yeah, those days were great. But they're over now, long gone, and there is nothing you nor I can do about it. Except move on with our lives, and try not to lose sight of the future by trying to relive the past.

SEPHORA
(Agreeing.) I know it's horrible of me, and maybe just a little insane, but I can't help but to remember. For me, the past five years have been the equivalent of a living hell. And I absolutely hate it.

DEAN
What happened during the past five years that has made you feel like this?

SEPHORA
(Becoming self-conscious.) Nothing that you or anybody else in this town can even begin to understand. I'm just... not like the others. I'm different. Something went wrong with me, I guess. To everyone I know, I'm seen as a defect, a disappointment, a mistake that should have been corrected before it had ever occurred in the first place.

DEAN
(Becoming increasingly concerned for his friend. Attempts to comfort her.) Don't be so melodramatic. I'm sure you're life isn't so bad. Cut the suicidal bullshit. Tell me what's really going through your head. I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about.

SEPHORA
(Now indigant in part to DEAN'S harsh yet nonetheless truthful words. Teeth clenched.) Don't. You' Ever. Tell. Me. How. To. Feel. (Pauses.) Understand? You know nothing of me, my past, or the inner-most workings of my thoughts! You don't have a clue what I believe in! What I've thought of doing to myself... and others! Place judgements on others, but not me, Dean! You don't have a f*****g clue! (Just as the bell rings, signaling the beginning of homeroom, SEPHORA, tears of anger and sadness alike streaming unevenly down her face, runs out of the classroom, gathering her schoolbooks and purse violently along the way. DEAN calls out to her, but SEPHORA blatantly ignores him, focusing solely on remaining sane... for the moment, at least.)

End Scene 2

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Poetic Interlude

I see them mock my intelligence, my virtue, my purpose.
They do not see the truth, for they are blinded by discarded ignorance.
The misplaced ignorance of the middle class.

I seek power from the strongest.
And money from the affluent.
I will take over the world.
And conquer everything.

Within my reach is the angel.
A black-winged beauty waiting for me.
Calling my name for none to hear.
It is a lonely life, the life of an Outcast.
The days of prosperity and child-like innocence have long since went away.

Farewell to the empty hearted.
And to those beat ne with their words, their taunts, their vicious banter.
They breed like gutter rats, and behave like them as well.
Scrounging for their quick fixes; their next hit of something "nice."

As they shove me to the ground, I smile.
And as they shatter my dignity, I laugh.
They are hurting me, yes.
But, in the end, it is I who will end up victorious.

It is I who will win in this war against the Superior Ones.
And as for friends, I seek none.
For they are a weakness, and will only distract me.
From my true purpose, my only mission.

Destroy and Conquer.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Act 1, Scene 3

(Later that day. It is now noon; the sun hangs above the town and all that encompasses it, including the school and those outside of it. DEAN is outside, waiting for his and SEPHORA'S self-proclaimed "gang" to arrive on the scene. As he patiently awaits their arrival, SEPHORA exits the school building, and crosses the freshly-mowed lawn, heading towards the still-lonesome DEAN. She is wearing peculiar attire, and looks similar to what a gothic princess or fairy would wear. Almost as if she is a Dark vigilante of some sort, a headstrong activist who holds no fear of the establishment.)

DEAN
(Gesturing to SEPHORA'S provocative attire.) What's with the outfit? Did you lose a bet?

SEPHORA
(Beaming at him for the first time that day.) No, I just came from class. We're designing Halloween costumes, and this is one of my many ideas. (Twirls around as her the bottom half of her dress follows suit.) So, what do you think? Is it okay, for a prototype, of course?

DEAN
(Pauses. Tries to think of a way to put his thoughts into words, for he knows that SEPHORA is still on the outskirts of one of her moods, and even the slightest comment could either set her off into a terrible rage, or send her away in thick, wild tears.) It's... interesting. Definitely unique. I like the outfit, but the earrings and the bracelets just don't seem to flow with it. And the scarf seems a little too much, but if that's the look you're going for then it's cool... (Drifts off as he senses SEPHORA'S eyes beginning to narrow in defensiveness.)

SEPHORA
(Balling up her fists.) Yeah, well, maybe it's supposed to look like this! Maybe this is precisely the "look" I was going for! And if you can't understand that, then maybe you shouldn't be critizing me at all!

DEAN
(Holding up his hands in surrender.) Woah there! Aura (using the nickname that the gang and some of their classmates frequently call her by) I didn't mean it like that! You asked me what I thought, and I told you. I'm just being honest with you, so chill out.

SEPHORA
(Beginning to realize the foolishness of her escalating temper.) You are so right; I'm sorry. I'm still worked up about this morning. And to answer your question from earlier today in homeroom, last night was kind of rough. Life happens, and I shouldn't be bitching about my stupid problems.

DEAN
Your problems aren't stupid, and you aren't either. You just tend to be a little... overdramatic at times. (Adds jokingly.) Nothing a little intensive mental evaluation can't fix. That, and a short stay in a padded room.

SEPHORA
(Lightly punches DEAN on the shoulder as she emits an appreciative giggle.) Oh, shut up! I don't see you winning the "Most Normal Person of the Year" award.

DEAN
(Grinning.) Define normal.

SEPHORA
(Confused.) What do you mean?

DEAN
(Repeating his previous sentence. ) Define. Normal.

SEPHORA
Well, it's the way that everyone else thinks, the way they behave, who they are, their interests, you know, their entire being. That's the way it is, and always will be, probably.

DEAN
Yeah, but who's to say what's normal and what's not? If I tell you right now that you aren't normal, then what's stopping you from calling me abnormal?

SEPHORA
Nothing, I guess. But when a person is not considered normal, it's usually decided by popular vote. I mean, a general census. Not just one person. And besides, there are rules. Like, murderers, rapists, sociopaths, that creepy Raisin-Bran obsessed guy who lives next door, all those people aren't normal. They have problems. Serious ones. In the head.

DEAN
So, basically you're saying that you have problems in the head, then? I mean, if you're calling yourself not normal? Or did you take an online quiz instead...

SEPHORA
No, I didn't! But I'm not like those people I mentioned. I'm just not like everyone else, I guess. It's confusing, it's deep, it's complicated, but it's me. I can't make it go away.

DEAN

You can, because you have to. Otherwise, eventually it will tear you up inside, manifest in your soul, until that is all you can think about, and then you'll reach your breaking point. You have a bright future ahead of you, and I don't want to see you waste it. High school, big deal. We'll be out of here in two years, a little less, now. Life is gonna treat you so well after you graduate. You'll go to university, be on your own, find people like you, and find yourself in the process. You have so much to look forward to. Don't let the opportunities go to waste, or you'll sincerely regret it.

SEPHORA
What about you, then? What do you want to do after graduation? You're so intelligent, but you don't apply yourself. Why not follow your own advice?

DEAN
(Shrugging.) I don't really care about my grades. I don't need them to validate my existence. But maybe I'll do something with drawing... or architecture. I'm just focused on getting that diploma right now.

SEPHORA
Well, that's good, at least. You have a lot of potential as well, and I want you to succeed. I.....

DEAN
(Waiting for her to continue.) You what?

SEPHORA
(Desperately wants to tell DEAN how she really feels for him, but can't force out the words. Instead, she quickly changes the subject.) I really adore the hoodie that James is wearing today. Tokio Hotel is an awesome band, don't you think?

 

DEAN

I guess. That dude with the spiky black hair is pretty good with the vocals.

 

SEPHORA

And it helps that he is extremely sexy. Break me off a piece of that!

DEAN
(Laughing.) I bet you would like that. Both of you are loud and love to shake things up.

SEPHORA
(Haughtily.) I know I am but what are you?

DEAN
(Simply.) A ghost.

SEPHORA
What?

DEAN
I am a ghost; I can make myself invisible. Then, when nobody notices me, I observe them. It's interesting to see how people behave when they think that nobody is watching them.

SEPHORA
And have you ever watched me?

DEAN
(Truthfully.) Sometimes. You can be kind of fun to watch. You do your hair, fix your makeup, and draw in your notebook a lot, when you're not taking extensive notes, that is.

SEPHORA
(Playfully.) Stalker. I guess I'll have to look around before I do something intimate like that, huh?

DEAN
(Spots the rest of their friends heading their way from inside of the cafeteria.) Maybe. But now's not the time to talk about that. Jess brought her softball, and Rob's joining us today. We've got a ballgame to play.

SEPHORA
(Challengingly.) You're on. But make sure not to throw the ball too hard at me, okay? I'm so not for that.

DEAN
(Getting in position as Jess motions that the game is about the begin.) Deal. I'll try to be easy on the princess today. Wouldn't want to break a nail, now, would we?

SEPHORA
(Making her way down field, directly across from DEAN.) Oh, be quiet Mr. Invisible Man. Let's play ball!

End Scene 3

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Poetic Interlude

How fickle love can be for those who desire it most.
As the years go by, our souls grow colder with each passing day.
A person's broken heart becomes your source of entertainment.

How can we decipher true emotions from false ones?
How do we detect truth from weakened fact?
What should we do to alleviate our thoughts from our fractured minds?

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Act 2, Scene 1

(Saturday evening. About 7:30. The local mall. SEPHORA and her best friend ELLIE are walking around, making their way to Hot Topic, a popular retail store that sells music, band tees, Gothic attire, and more. As SEPHORA describes the dress that she is about to purchase from said store, ELLIE interrupts her.)

SEPHORA
So, I want the dress to go along with the dress perfectly, which means that I'll have to buy the boot laces in dark purple, to match the lining of the dress. You know those new knee-high black boots I just bought two weeks ago? I'm thinking of wearing those with the dress, but without the red laces they came with... and there's still the makeup I'm debating about...

ELLIE
(Cutting her friend off.) Sephora! Stop and listen to me. (SEPHORA comes to a halt and turns to face her friend.ELLIE has a mischievous smile on her face.)

SEPHORA
(Knowing her friend too well.) I know that smile. What is it? What do you know?

ELLIE
(Feigning both shock and offensiveness.) Why, dearest bestie, I am appalled. How can you say something like that? Of course I have no idea that you are crushing on a certain someone, a mysterious guy by the name of Dean.

SEPHORA
(Shocked and slightly unnerved.) Dean?! Me, have a crush on Dean Vasquez? No way! Besides, we're two completely different people! How could we ever pursue a relationship, if we were to, hypothetically, get together, I mean.

ELLIE
As far as I can tell, from what you've told me of this guy, you two aren't so different after all. You both like music, some of the same bands, even. You both have a fixation with reading and video games. He draws, you like art. The kind that he's into. Really modern; cartoonist images. You're both smart. He's attractive, you are too. You're both stubborn, moody, yet very protective of others, even if it means sacrificing your own well-being at times. And you both are lonely. Face it, girl, you two need each other, so I don't see why you don't just ask him out already.

SEPHORA
You know I'm old fashioned when it comes to that. I prefer the guy to ask the girl out.

ELLIE
What about with Chris?

SEPHORA
(Suspiciously.) What about Chris?

ELLIE
Freshman year. You asked him out, he said yes. Sephora goes on the have a wonderful relationship with a guy nearly four years her senior.

SEPHORA
That was different.

ELLIE
In what way, because, as far as I can tell, it pretty much amounts to the same exact thing.

SEPHORA
(Darkly.) I already knew.

ELLIE
(Confused.) Knew what?

SEPHORA
(Impatiently.) That Chris was interested in me! Jesus Christ, El, thanks for making me relive it all again. We had a nice four months, then he decided to forgo college and join the army, then he proceeded to get himself killed in Iraq! I don't love him anymore, I cannot love him anymore, not even his memory... but then again, sometimes I think my heart died when he did.

ELLIE
(Instantly regretful for bringing up a traumatic memory of her friend's.) Aw.... Oh my God, Aura, I am so sorry... I didn't mean to make you upset. I know how hard his death was for you; you're still dealing with it... but come on, I'll make it up to you, I promise. (Gives her best friend a bear hug.) I'll make it up to you, babe, I promise.

SEPHORA
(Attempting a small smile through her tears.) Nah, forget it. Let's just go do some serious shopping, El. I have to have the best Halloween costume out there. I really want that gift certificate... and the recognition, of course.

ELLIE
(Shaking her head.) Same old Sephora. So strong.

SEPHORA
(Puffing out her chest in mock-pompouness.) You know it. (Pauses.) Now let's go do some serious retail therapy.

 End Scene 1

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Poetic Interlude

I don't tell them I am ashamed-all of us staring out the window like the hungry. I am tired of looking at what we can't have. When we win the lottery... Mama begins, and then I stop listening.

People who live on hills sleep so close to the stars they forget those of us who live too much on earth. They don't look down at all except to be content to live on the hills. They have nothing to do with last week's garbage or fear of rats. Night comes. Nothing wakes them but the wind.

One day I'll own my own house, but I won't forget who I am or where I came from. Passing bums will ask, Can I come in? I'll offer them the attic, ask them to stay, because I know how it is to be without a house. Some days after dinner, guests and I will sit in front of a fire. Floorboards will squeak upstairs. The attic grumbles.

Rats? they'll ask.
Bums, I say, and I'll be happy.

-The House on Mango Street


"There are inside jokes that they will never get... Sometimes, I wish I were dead already... at least, that way, I wouldn't have to live the rest of my life not knowing. Not knowing how things could have been... if we had only stayed..."

-Anonymous

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Act 2, Scene 2

(Gym class. Outside, by the soccer fields and the running track. DEAN and SEPHORA walk beside each other, reflecting upon the fine autumn day they have been graced with. The leaves on the trees are just beginning to turn bright, gorgeous shades of orange, red, and gold. As the other teens either walk around the track,listen to music, goof around like elementary school-aged children, or smoke behind the bleachers, the pair is simply taking a stroll, commenting on the weather or the people around them. SEPHORA, however, makes an off-hand comment about the colors of the autumn leaves.)

SEPHORA
Gold, orange, red... all very beautiful. I remember, when i was younger, and still living in the city... my mami and my cousins and I would all travel to Central Park some weekends. We'd bring pieces of flattened cardboard, from the bodega on our street, and each of us kids would write our names on them: Michael, Justin, Brandon... Sephora. Sometimes, my best friend Elizabeth would come too. But each of us would always have our own piece of cardboard to take with us on the subway. We'd take the 6 train from the Bronx, and go all the way downtown, to 86th Street or so... from the station, we'd walk to the park. Mami would pack food and drinks for us, and we'd always finish everything. When it was time to go back home, we'd leave our cardboard pieces with the kids we had met and played with that day. A sort of charitable act, I guess. (Pauses.) I used to be so popular. Even though I was shy sometimes, a lot of time, maybe, I used to make so many friends... And when we'd all arrive back at the apartment, we'd wait for mami to cook her delicious arroz con pollo, with beans included, as we had a video game tournament, took turns on the computer, or played a board game. I loved those times. If I could go back in time... I would sacrifice anything for that chance. And me and the boys... we were inseparable. They were like my brothers. Michael, the responsible older brother; Justin, the funny, prankster, quick-witted twin, being just one month older than myself; and Brandon, the baby of the lot, until Ryan came along in 2002; he was the gullible and excitable younger brother of mine. I could always count on them to entertain me, prank others, tease me... even protect me at times... except when mami got enraged that is. No one could be saved from one of her moods.I swear, I'll never look at a leather belt the same way again...

DEAN
(Grinning.) Yeah, I got a few licks from the belt back in the day too. Must be our culture, 'cause you don't hear about too many white kids being disciplined or raised like we did... oh, wait, you're half, sorry.

SEPHORA
(Frowning deeply while crossing her arms.) Don't remind me. As soon as I'm eighteen, I'm legally changing my last name, to my mom's maiden name, Rivera. (Pauses.) I hate it, you know.

DEAN
(Confused.) So, why would you want to change your last name to that, then, if you don't like it?

SEPHORA
No, I don't mean the last... well, my mom's anyway. I'm talking about my heritage, my ethnicity. I know that it's wrong, and that I shouldn't have any valid reason to feel this way, but I really hate the fact that I'm half White and half Hispanic. It's like, I don't fit in with the whites, and I don't fit in with the Ricans. Sometimes, I act white, and others, Puerto Rican.  My mom... she kind of understands... not much, though. In a way, she kind of brainwashed me into believing that her side of the family, that part of my culture, is better than my dad's. Like if I don't choose her culture to adapt to, then I'm wrong. And if I'm wrong, then she may not hold love for me anymore.

DEAN
(Stares into SEPHORA'S dark, powerful eyes.) You don't have to feel like that. But I know my saying it won't make it true. But... listen. I'm Puerto Rican, but sometimes I feel... like I don't fit in with the rest of my family. Like, I don't really act like you think I would. I read a a lot, I don't dress in clothes from Against All Odds, or even Hollister, if I'm going for the preppy but still from the hood look. I buy clothes from the Army surplus store, I like to go into the woods, I listen to Christian rock... whatever. It's me, but some people say I'm weird, and maybe I am, but so what? I'm strong, on the outside, anyway...  that should be good enough. I'm just trying to get out of here, and make something of my crap life. Isn't that what everybody wants?

SEPHORA
(Sighing.) I have absolutely no clue as to what everybody else wants, Dean, but I know what I do, and right now, it's the same thing that you are looking for. I just want to find out who I am. And it's proving pretty difficult, but I need to find the answers. I need to get out of New Jersey. The state that forced me to learn just how cruel the world truly was at just twelve years old. My life changed forever the day we moved here. I lost everything; my friends, my family, my culture, my home... It traumatized me, I think. You may think I'm lying, or being way too over dramatic, but I can feel it in my heart, that's it true. I used to be so lucky... even though we had only had a little bit of money, and some things weren't so perfect... my parents still fought like hell sometimes, once, my mom even threw a beer bottle at my dad's head, when I was four... but it was home, you know? Compared to now, I would rather go back in time, relive it all again, even move back into the same neighborhood being the age I am now. I could go to Lehman, or B.O.S, way up near Knightsbridge. Or school in Manhattan, near the village. That was my plan, back in fifth grade. (Bitterly.) But, then again, nothing ever goes according to plan then, does it? (Close to tears.) I used to pray, when I used to go to Sunday school, that my parents would somehow buy a big house, with a lawn, and we'd finally own a car... the whole family would move in, in a big house by the beach. I wanted a lot of things; clothes, money... Now, I ask myself this: You used to ask for so much, Sephora dear. You were so f*****g greedy, asking for more and more when you already had so much. Why did you take so much s**t for granted? Well, you've got your house, with the freshly-mowed lawn, the nice car, and your own bedroom, finally. But at what price? Everything. You happy now, girl? You finally got what you wanted, chica? Trying to stick in your nose where it doesn't belong again? I hate you. I hate you. I hate you and everything you've become.

 

DEAN

(Appears troubled. Isn't quite sure how to react to SEPHORA'S emotional outburst. Starts by lowering his voice, in an attempt to sound more comforting.) I know it's hard, Aura, I know. But you have to be strong. I learned from a very early age that nobody was going to give you sympathy in this world; the only person who can save you from yourself is you. Don't let the memories and the pain consume you, because once you begin to travel down that road of self-loathing and trying to gain something you once had, it takes over your life; it becomes a battle. A battle that you will lose not because you are too weak, but because you are too pure. You are one of the purest people I know. You come off as a completely different person, but I can see your soul, and it's filled with childish hopes and dreams. You're so fragile inside, after fighting a raging war for the past five years. You're tired, and you want so desperately to surrender, but your subconscious, which is so damn stubborn, won't let you. Just let go. I can't promise you anything, but I know that life will get better for you. So much potential... you just have to use it. Don't let the darkness bring you down.

 

SEPHORA

(Frustrated.) How can I not, Dean?! Do you not know hard difficult this is for me? How my family is?! You don't know a damn thing!

DEAN
(Becoming frustrated as well.) Yeah, well if you think I have absolutely no clue how you are feeling right now, then maybe you need to think about how other people feel for once. It's not all about you; learn how to play the cards you've been dealt. I can't make you do this; I can only give you advice on how to do it. I know I'm not perfect, but I know that the pain you  are feeling is due in part to your refusing to see how good life can be for you, if you'd just let things happen. Just let go.

SEPHORA
(Softly.) I will.

DEAN
(Grinning slightly.) You'll what?

SEPHORA
(Unwillingly.) I'll let go. Happy now?

DEAN
(Pauses.) Yes, for the first time in a while, I am genuinely happy.

End Scene 2

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Poetic Interlude

We walked arm in arm.
But I didn't feel his touch.
A desire I'd first tried to hide,
That tingling inside was gone.
And when he asked me: 'do you still love me?'
I had to look away.
I didn't want to tell him.
That my heart grows colder with each day.

-Bat For Lashes

People say I'm the life of the party.
Because I tell a joke or two.
Although I might be laughing loud and hearty.
Deep inside I'm blue.
So take a good look at my face.
You'll see my smile looks out of place.
If you look closer, it's easy to trace.
The tracks of my tears...

-Smokey Robinson and The Miracles

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Act 2, Scene 3

(The hallway of a school. A few people roaming around, either out of sheer boredom or a sense of purpose. CLIFF and SEPHORA look into each other's eyes.)

CLIFF
(Slightly high; still reeling from the hit of marijuana he had taken only a few hours ago.) Sephora, baby, wanna go have sex? I have protection... for her pleasure; only the best for my girl.

SEPHORA
(Slightly excited, but knows she cannot lose her virginity... not yet, at least. Instead, she appeases CLIFF, not wanting him to lose interest in her.) Sure, whatever... But where would we go? There's nowhere to do it in this school, really...

CLIFF
(Grinning.) The old locker rooms, by the back of the school, wear everyone always goes when they dip outta class, and head to the mall. I can get us in, if you want. But there's always a small chance that we can get caught...

SEPHORA
(Interrupting CLIFF with a soft kiss on the cheek.) But that's exactly what makes it all the more exciting, my dear.

CLIFF
(Sliding his hand down body, edging closer and closer to the area she has always warned the guys not to touch, for it is "off limits." So, you wanna? Only if you feel like it... I love you, you know.

SEPHORA
(Rolling her eyes.) Sure you do.

CLIFF
(Turning her around to face him.) No, I mean it. I care about you.

SEPHORA
(Slowly.) What about your girlfriend, she goes to Roosevelt High...

CLIFF
(Uncomfortable.) Yeah... but why can't I just have two girlfriends? Then life would be a hell of a lot better.

SEPHORA
Maybe. But what about her? Does she know about... us?

CLIFF
(Thinking.)... No. I don't know what to do. I mean, I love her too; she accepts me, and takes all my s**t and all that... but you and I have an undeniable connection that...

SEPHORA
(Finishes for him.) Can't be ignored. I know. But this, going behind her back, it makes me feel dirty, like I'm a w***e or something. So, let me know. Choose her... and I'll accept it. I'll be upset, I'll shed a tear or two, maybe, but I won't hold it against you. But if you choose me... then we'll see where our relationship takes us. But until you make your decision, I can't keep doing this.

CLIFF
Come on, baby, you know what you want, and it's me. So, what's another person's broken heart gonna make you feel, huh? Why should you care, if it's not your problem? We're only fooling around; at the end of the day, I'll just go back to her anyway, after school ends. So, it's not like I'm really betraying her, right? I mean, you're not even my "other girlfriend," we're just friends... with benefits.

SEPHORA

(Eyes tearing up, voice wavers.) I think I just received my answer. (Turning away.) I cannot believe I trusted you! Just- just go to hell, okay?! Have a nice life. (As she turns away from him, continuing down the corridor, a passerby questions CLIFF.)

PASSERBY
Hey dude, aren't you going to go comfort your girlfriend?

CLIFF
(Frowning.) She's not my girlfriend. (Mumbling to himself.) But maybe she should be.

End Scene 3

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Author's Note

This was for a previous theatre class of mine. never did finish it, but my muse hasreturned, so hopefully I will be successful in completing this project of mine :) Constructive critisism always appreciate.