The White Divide

<on the phone>

n: “White Elm Mental Hospital. How may I help you?”

E: “Uh, is there a patient by the name of April Addison there?”

n: “Please hold one moment…<clicking through computer> Yes there is. And who am I speaking with?”

<Elliot hangs up>

Welcome to White Elm Mental Hospital. Here you will meet a young patient by the name of April Addison. Now 23, she came to us when she was 20 years old, after going insane from the thoughts, memories, and emotions of being raped at the age of just 17 by her then-boyfriend, Elliot Johnson. Now, 6 years after the rape, Elliot has been searching for April for 2 years and has finally found her here at White Elm. As his visit begins to trigger the memories that have been carefully locked away in April’s mind, April relives the tragic experience in The White Divide, an original.

<transition, next day>

n: “Good morning, sir. Welcome to White Elm.”

E: “Yeah, uh, hi. Can I get April Addison’s room number?”

n: “Are you here as a visitor?”

E: <clears throat> “Yea.”

n: “Alright, hold on a second. Let me call and see if she is available for visitation right now.” <dials phone> “Ms. Addison? Ms. Addison, there’s someone here to see you by the name of…of…<to Elliot> sir, what’s your name?”

E: <fumbles to come up with name> “Uh, er…John.”

N: “By the name of John. Shall I send him in?<listens to answer> Alright.<hangs up phone> She’s in room 713, just down the hall.”

E: “Thanks.” <heads down hall, knocks on door> “April?”

A: “Come in. So you’re that John fellow they just called me about, eh? I’m April, nice to meet you!”

E: “Er…yeah, about that. I’m Elliot…”

A: <cuts him off> “Elliot…hmmmm that’s a very pretty name <drifts off into thought><snaps back to life> The weather’s very beautiful today.”

E: “Um yes, it is. How long have you…”

A: <cuts him off> “And the sparrows. Oh the tiny little sparrows! They’ve been singing all morning. La la la la la. Lovely, really lovely, don’t you think?”

E: “Of course. Yes, the sparrows are beautiful, like you.”

A: “Oh <clicks tongue> flattery. Flattery will not distract me, you silly man. You know, there’s another patient here…oh, what’s his name?… Mark? Ah, yes. Dear old Mark. A sweet man really. He was one of my first friends here. We like to sing karaoke together. Sometimes, I’ll sketch him and he’ll hang it on his wall. And we eat together and, and, we watch clouds together, and… haha you silly man. Flattery will not distract me! You know, there are other men like you. Going around trying to flatter me. Mark does it all the time! Oh, did I forget to tell you about Mark? Ha silly me. Sweet man really. He was one of…”

E: <cuts her off> “No, no. You told me about Mark. He sounds like a very nice man. So, what do you do here?”

A: “Well, I sketch. I sketch my friends, and the other patients. Sometimes I sketch my dreams… And I write and I read. Oooh and I sing! They have a karaoke machine here! I sing with my friends every night! With Mary, and John, and Mark, and Amber, and…Amber! Amber has such a beautiful voice. She sounds almost like the sparrows. The tiny little sparrows! Lovely voice.”

E: “Just like you. You used to have a beautiful voice. It’s good that you still sing.”

A: “Just like me. I’ve always sang. Always sang…”

E: “So you said you draw?”

A: “No. Sketch. All the time!”

E: “May I see them?”

A: “Oh. Uh, well, they’re not very good. But I guess I’ll let you look.”

<takes out drawings and hands them to Elliot> <Elliot flips through them>

E: “Wow. These are pretty good. You never told me you could draw.<stops at a page> Who’s dog is this that you drew?”

A: “I don’t know.”

E: “Huh. I used to have a dog just like this one. He died 3 years ago.<continues to flip through drawings, stops again> Uh…this is my house?”

A: “No. A dream.”

E: “Why did you draw my house April?”

A: “No. No. I don’t know! No! A dream.”

E: <flips to next page> “April?”

A: “What?!”

E: “This is my room. These dreams you’re having, I think they’re memories. You remember. It’s me April. It’s me.”

A: “NO! Dreams! They’re DREAMS!! I sketch my dreams. Shut up Elliot! Shut up. Elliot. Elliot? El-ee-ot… John…Johnson? … Elliot Johnson?”

E: “Yes. Yes! It’s me, April. Elliot! I came back for you babe. I still love you.” <reaches out to touch her>

A: <pulls away from Elliot’s touch> “No. Love?”

E: “Yes. Love. I love you. I always have. I’ve been looking for you for almost two years now. I can’t stop thinking about you. Even the night that you broke up with me, I still loved you. I thought maybe you had changed your mind. How could you have known what you were doing? You were only 17. But now, maybe now, you realized that you still love me too.”

A: “Break up? Break… Break. Enter. Push. Scream. Wind. Help. HELP! No clock? Elliot. Elliot? You! Elliot. I love you. No!<looks around frantically> That wasn’t love. That was…”

E: “What? What wasn’t love? April, I’m here, and I love you, and that’s all that matters now.”

A: “A room. A small, white, bare room. White walls that have seen too much, but can’t reach out and help. Help. A window. Small, that never lets in the glorious sun. Clothes on the floor. Strewn about. Bed. <swallows loudly> A bed. Stained, with my innocence and fears. A pillow case soaked with tears. The bed is occupied, though unwillingly and forcefully. A scream. SCREAM! Crying out to the empty air. No point. No one to help. Only the lonely wind howling outside, that I can barely here over you. It feels like eternity. An eternity of being a slave. No control. Eternity. But is merely I hour, 47 minutes and 32 seconds. No clock, there is no clock in the room. But I count. I counted every thrust. I counted every moan of the poor bed. I counted every time you shoved your serpent like tongue down my throat. I counted every icy, unloving, rough caress. I counted every heavy hand beating the life out of me. I counted every drop of sweat that splashed down onto my listless skin. I counted every scream. Aloud and in my head. I counted every tear that deftly rolled down my cheeks. And I counted every second. Until you were finished with me. And then. Then, I watch you walk out. As if nothing has happened. Listen. I hear the door click close. Like the door of my life, now closed forever.

E: “April? April, are you there? <waves hand in front of her face> What are you talking about? You’re crazy!”

A: “No. No I’m not. I’m opening my apartment door. Undressing from any shreds of clothes you left, though a near impossible feat as I am shaking uncontrollably. I’m already trying to forget, to push the memories and thoughts out of my head, but the dripping blood and surfacing bruises won’t let me. I attempt to lift a heavy leg into this place of sanctuary, a shower, but gravity and balance are unforgiving. Smack! I fall to the cold tile floor where tears pool with blood and puddles stain the clean floor. My body is trying to expel this disease you created. I pull myself into the shower and turn the water on, hot and hard. I scrub my skin raw. Stripping away your essence, the dirt and filth you left; trying to restore my innocence, but to no avail. I shutter with chill, although I’m enveloped in water so hot it’s nearly boiling. You took away all warmth and left me with only a cold, useless, shell of a body.”

E: “I did? Oh, April. What on earth are you… you know what? Who cares? It’s all over. You’ve obviously gone crazy. I’m not going to pretend with you any more, April. Yeah. I did it. And, it felt great. Having this complete and utter power over you. You wouldn’t believe how amazing that feels. To hold your tiny, little body basically in the palm of my hand. The ability to curl my fingers and end you at any time was delicious. And I’m here to tell you, my dear April Addison, that I’m going to get you out of this white hell hole and I’m going to do it to you again and again and again. Because I love you. I love you April Addison. Why didn’t you see that earlier? Why didn’t you just let me love you? No. You had to be stubborn. Wouldn’t let me in. So you got what was coming to you.”

A: “Stubborn? Do I, do I deserve this? It’s my fault. My fault? You deserve this. Stupid, stupid girl. No! Not my fault. Not my fault, Elliot. ELLIOT! The bruises, the cuts, the pain, agony, emotions, blood, tears, everything. You. Your fault. How could you? Could you do this to me? All that I saw in the mirror that night. The wretched, unclean body, dripping and steaming, red and blistered. The deeply colored bruises, adorning me like wreathes of beautiful, fully bloomed spring flowers. The cuts, the scrapes. Was that your love? WAS THAT YOUR LOVE!!??!! Rot in hell. ROT IN HELL ELLIOT JOHNSON!!! ROT IN HELL!! Befriend the other demons just like you and BURN! I HATE you! BASTARD! HATE.<breaks down>

n: “April? April calm down! Please leave, sir. Visitation hours are done for today. The patient needs her medication.”

E: “The ‘patient’ has a name. April Addison. And I will find her when she gets out of here. And I will have her again.”

A: <calms down>“Hate? I don’t hate the sparrows…they sing so beautifully.” <eyes drift blankly>

The White Divide


Joined May 2009

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Artist's Description

Well this an original speech that I wrote specifically for a tournament recently. It is based heavily off of my other writing, Get Clean. I ended up coming in 3rd out of about 30 other speeches. I would like to continue using this speech for future tournaments so I thought I would put up here in hopes of getting some feedback on it. So please feel free to leave comments, constructive criticism, ideas, thoughts, etc. It really means a lot to me! Thank you all so much!!!
ps sorry for how rough the format is :) and sorry about all the acting cues too ;) it was an acting heavy piece…

n- nurse
E- Elliot Johnson
A- April Addison

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