A belated Christmas Miracle (play) – part 1

Int. Bedroom – Day

Helen (mid forties), with eyes that only seem to see darkness, is sitting on a chair, clasping her hands as she speaks. There is a glass and a bottle of water on the small table next to her. We see a frail Christmas wreath in the background.

Helen. My heart seems as grey as the world. The light has gone out and the long awaited snow hasn’t come. In fact, nobody has come. I watch the children on the street holding their parents’ hands, hopping along as if they were hearing a song only their little ears could hear. What was it like to see the world as a child? It seems so long ago that I sometimes feel like I was born the way I am now… Maybe I never was without a care. I remember my mum telling me that I used to cry a lot as a baby and nothing could console me. Eventually I would just tire myself out and fall asleep from exhaustion. I feel like I haven’t properly slept in ages. When I finally fall asleep, I’m tormented by dreams. There has been a reoccurring one. I am sitting in a field with luscious grass and flowers that smell exquisite. I feel calm, at peace, happy even. I breathe in everything around me and think that nothing can go wrong. Utter bliss. I lie down and glance at the sky, which is so vast and blue that it almost seems unreal. I feel a hand in mine. Then the sky suddenly parts, the warmth disappears and is replaced by an icy cold that creeps into my bones. The sky is no longer blue but black and fiery red. The small, innocent clouds turn into creatures that look and smell like death. They multiply and fill the sky. One of them flies towards me with its long spindly legs and fingers. I want to move but I can’t. It’s like the creature is inside me, inside my head, controlling my thoughts, my movements. Still, I desperately will myself to move as the creature comes menacingly closer. I can now see its rotten teeth and smell its breath of death as it opens its mouth. It is ready to swallow me whole. But before it can, I wake up covered in sweat. The odd thing is I am not only relieved but also disappointed.