audience : mary

[cyclists]

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Week 0 - post-trial

[cyclists]

[They've avoided this for a while. They've let Mary have time alone and given space for others to approach her. By the time they enter the house she's being contained in, it's fairly late. Their steps are light and they linger in the doorway for a moment]

...can I come in?

[withsadness]

Oh? You came to see me? Little me?

[She's waiting, hands steeped in front of her.]

How fun!

[cyclists]

Well sure. [They don't approach any closer, obviously aware of the instability here.] We're friends, aren't we?

[withsadness]

Friends until the end! Even like this, you don't mind? I'm a corrupt creature...I don't know how to make those good decisions you wanted me to. Aren't you disappointed? Ashamed? You don't want to lock me far, far away?

[cyclists]

[There's a shake of their head...and they step a little closer.]

It's alright. I'm not ashamed of you, but...I'm a little sad. Is that okay?

[withsadness]

...sad?

[Mary goes quiet, watching him, almost accusingly. Why that word?]

[cyclists]

Yeah. [Are they getting somewhere with this? Perhaps.] It probably hurts, doesn't it?

[withsadness]

Which part?

[She drops her arms, and they swing listlessly from their own momentum as her eyes glaze over.]

Yes, I'm in pain. When I'm dead, I won't hurt anymore. But I still don't want to die.

[cyclists]

What do you mean you won't hurt anymore when you're dead?

[withsadness]

Because there'll be nothing left! No more Mary!

[No more Mary, gone gone gone. She covers her face.]

[cyclists]

That's not true. [Not really...but they don't approach closer, simply letting this happen.] Don't you remember what I said earlier?

[withsadness]

About...about memories?

[Her hands move from her face to her hair, her eyes closing tightly as she struggles.]

[cyclists]

Yeah. [That's still sort of progress of some kind.] Memories mean that you're never really gone. That's why they're so important...and even when the memories go away, your heart still knows. But it doesn't have to hurt either.

[withsadness]

But what if they're bad memories? What if they hurt? Why would anyone keep that, keep me? I don't want to be remembered if I'm remembered as bad!

[She's so confused, confused. Mary sways unevenly, shrieking.]

[cyclists]

[...it hurts to watch, and it's why they approach. Even if she tries to hurt them, they can't be hurt by it. Instead, they reach out to offer her a hand to steady herself.]

It's alright. [It's an insistent tone.] You can stop...it's alright. [Feeding into her fears and her own darkness is only making it worse. If they can break through to her, maybe...they stand a chance of understanding how this is working.] You'll still be remembered for the good things, too. I promise!