Scene Detail

"It's the first time I remember seeing my own blood."

From: the Thirst collection
Gender Age Character Name
Male Adult: Any Age SCOTTY
 
Setup:
Scotty is riffing on one of his favorite topics, the scars on his body.

(Part of the scene this speech is contained within, DENTS, is also available for viewing via the quote link "There are days I wish I hadn't picked up that phone the second time and just ended up on his doorstep. See what happened.")

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The full scripts of the plays "Invisible," "Dents," "Template," and "Head Above Water" from "The Thirst Collection" are available for purchase as part of "Short Plays, Volume 2" (in hard copy or download form) at

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/short-plays-volume-2/1402397

Part of Matthew's online script store

http://stores.lulu.com/matthewaeverett
 

Monologue

copyright 2004 by Matthew A. Everett



SCOTTY

My first major accident was right here --

SCOTTY points to a place on his chin.


SCOTTY (cont'd)

It's the first time I remember seeing my own blood.
And it wasn't really an accident, I guess. My little brother and I were playing with those wooden alphabet blocks. I was four or five, he was maybe, God, one, if that. This was when we all realized he was gonna be a handful. So we were playing, well, I was trying to build something and he kept grabbing the blocks and knocking things over and I was getting pretty fed up. So I started to move everything out of his reach, 'cause I could stand up and he really couldn't, not totally yet. And, OK, maybe I was taunting him a little. But he was ticking me off. I was trying to express myself and all he wanted to do was screw around, or screw up what I was trying to do. Well, that's when he decided to express himself. He got a hold of one of the last blocks on the floor. A "T." And he hauled off and chucked it at me. All I can say is it's a good thing his aim was off because even then he had a good pitching arm. I could have lost an eye. But he clocked me in the chin instead. And at first I started laughing at him. "Ha, ha, dummy. I got the last block now." Then I look down and realize that I'm getting blood all over the block in my hands, my clothes, the carpet. My little brother starts to cry, because he knows somehow this means he's in trouble. I know this isn't normal so I started running around and yelling for mom and did a pretty complete circuit of the first floor of the house before she catches up to me. There was a fair amount of cleanup to be done after I finished running laps.

After that, my brother got his own set of blocks, foam ones, and it was made very clear that there was to be no throwing of anything in the house, most of all not at family members. I needed a couple of stitches.

To this day, there's this tiny little sliver where I don't grow any whiskers. You have to get right up close to see it, but it's there. This one place on my chin where I never grew up, so I don't need to shave. Or maybe I got that wrong. Are scars dead tissue? Is this the first little part of me to die? My brother says he doesn't remember any of this. I'm not entirely sure I believe him.




copyright 2004 by Matthew A. Everett

© Matthew A Everett
matthewaeverett.com