Broken

SCENE 1:

[The sun rises quietly over a pastoral setting. In the distance rises the shadows of thick pines, clustered together closely on the edge of a rolling green field. Dew glimmers off of the grass, as slowly, the world comes back to life after a long dark night. View zooms slowly backwards to reveal a young woman sitting at a table in a vintage styled kitchen. She has shoulder-length brown hair, and pale skin. Her cheeks are covered in light brown freckles, which seem to pop against the vibrant blue of her eyes. She sits quietly on a plain, brown kitchen chair, and stares out the window quietly with her head in the palm of her delicate hand.

She stares for some time, the sun rising very slowly. Her attention is caught for a brief moment by the rush of an animal in the brush as it darts across the rolling field and back into the tree line. Her reverie is broken suddenly by a man who enters the scene from a door to the left. He is tall and thin, with matching brown hair and piercing blue eyes. He looks only briefly at the woman, before moving to fridge and opening it, reaching for a glass of milk. He begins to move about the kitchen, preparing coffee, never looking back at the woman.]

MAN: Have you not moved since last night?

[The woman shifts in her seat, but continues to stare out of the window without looking at the man.]

WOMAN: Yes. I was out on the porch for a time early this morning.

MAN: Early? It’s only six AM now.

WOMAN: Last night, then. The air was nice and cool. The stars were out.

MAN: The stars are always out here. This isn’t the city.

[ The young woman shifts again, leaning back into her chair and folding her hands quietly in her lap.]

WOMAN: I just want to enjoy it before it’s over. I want to remember it like this.

MAN: There’s plenty enough to remember here without you catching a chill from the night air. Did you even take a jacket out with you?

WOMAN: I’m a grown woman, you know. I can take care of myself.

MAN: I wonder sometimes, Sarah. I really do.

[The woman, now identified as SARAH, turns to look at the man with the same electric blue eyes. His back is still turned to her, as he pours a steaming cup of coffee into a bright red mug. Her heavy lids drop, and her eyes draw to angry slits.]

SARAH: That’s enough, Jake. I’ve had enough. I can take care of myself, I always have.

[JAKE turns to look at SARAH, clutching the steaming red cup of coffee. He leans his long, slender frame back against the light brown wood of the counter behind.)

JAKE: That’s debatable, Sarah. It really is.

SARAH: Stop being so condescending, Jake. It’s not like you’ve ever bothered to help before. Don’t think to do it now. You haven’t even been around for the last six years. Just because your guilt has brought you back doesn’t give you the right to tell me how to live.

JAKE: That wasn’t my fault, Sarah, and we both know that.

SARAH: [Chuckles sarcastically]. Of course it isn’t, Jake. Nothing ever is. I’m sure it was her fault. Isn’t that what it always was, Jake? Wasn’t it always her fault?

JAKE: That’s enough, Sarah. This isn’t the time to go into that. This is has nothing to do with her or what happened. This only has to do with you taking care of yourself and not being stupid.

SARAH: [Anger clearly rising] That is truly rich, Jake. You can’t possibly be serious. There is no way you can be serious. I’m being stupid? I won’t be lectured by you. Not now. Not here. Not after everything you’ve done and everything that’s happened.

JAKE: [Setting the coffee cup to the side and stepping away from the counter. Voice rising in exasperation and frustration]. Will you stop it, Sarah? I’m only trying to help. What do you want from me? Really, tell me. I want to know. What do you want from me, Sarah?

SARAH: [Rising from her seat. Voice raised in an angry yell.] I WANT YOU TO LEAVE, JAKE. I WANT YOU TO LEAVE HERE AND NEVER COME BACK!

[JAKE stands still and mute for a moment, looking into the matching blue of eyes of SARAH. For some time, neither one of them move, frozen still by the fury and sadness that permeates the room. JAKE finally looks down to the floor and runs a hand through his hair, mussing the front. He kicks his foot in nervous agitation.]

JAKE: We both know I’m not going to do that, Sarah. I just want to make this right. I have to make this right, Sarah.

[SARAH looks at him angrily, crossing her arms over her chest and feeling the soft ruffle of the bright pink cotton.]

SARAH: You should have thought about that then, Jake. No matter what has happened, you can’t take back the last six years. Not now, and not ever. Just because she’s gone doesn’t mean you just get to waltz back in here and pretend that nothing ever happened. You left us, Jake. You left us and you didn’t come back. First Dad, then you? You’re just like him. Exactly like him. You haven’t ever cared for anyone but yourself and you never will. We didn’t need you then, and we definitely don’t need you now. You’re broken, Jake. You’re broken and you’re black and there’s no changing that. You’re just like Dad. Rotten to the core.

[JAKE looks up at SARAH for a long moment, the two making sullen eye contact once again. His eyes begin to well and he looks down at the ground again, his voice dropping to a barely audible whisper.]

JAKE: I didn’t want to leave, Sarah. I didn’t. But I had to. We both know that I had to go. There was no staying after that.

SARAH: Tell yourself that, Jake. Tell yourself that every night and rock yourself to sleep with your lies. I don’t want them.

[SARAH turns angrily and exits the room through the plain brown door to the left. JAKE leans back against the counter, covers his face and begins to sob. The coffee sits, forgotten.]