The Debate

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The Debate

Catrin, a schoolgirl, 15 years of age enters.

“My mind just gives me a headache!  Why cant life just be simple, with no worries, yeah, I’m talking to you up there.  You know what I’m saying!  Why cant you give me some thanks once in a while.  I’m still alive, I think I deserve some gratification for that, don’t you think?  It’s really hard work living with that evil brother of mine and putting up with mum’s winging, but I’m sure you know that, because your always watching over me, apparently.  Don’t you get bored up there watching everyone all day?

(Sits down to think)

I wonder what it’s like up there, you know, in heaven?  I don’t suppose I’ll ever go there anyway, because I’m a naughty girl, really.  My mum has said it so many times that I’m starting to believe it!  Mind you I’m not as naughty as my brother, my naughtiness is just fun and harmless, but I’m sure that my brother has malice in his naughtiness!  He plays his shooting games on the computer as if he were actually enjoying blowing somebody’s brains out!  Sick, really sick, I always annoy him by chanting, “You’re a mental psychopathic murderer!”  And then his eyes glow a fierce red and my legs start to quiver and my brain hurts because its ashamed of the mistake it has just done.  My mum seems to always stop the fighting just before it gets going; she has this talent, after all that’s what parents are for!

Join now!

(Gets up and puts her hand on her head, moving position every now and then)

Oh, why does life have to be so unfair!  Why can’t I win the lottery or become famous?  I would absolutely love to be the next Faith Hill or the next Madonna, but there’s no hope I suppose, after all I’m hopeless!  I can’t sing to save my life!  I’m useless, let’s face it brain.  I’m thinking whether to sit (and be a swot) and work or sit and be a couch potato and watch telly all night?  Such a hard decision, isn’t it ...

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