One-Act Play: Storm

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STORM

A Play

 

 

Characters

MATT, a, popular high school senior, nearly 19

PIGGY, a chubby high school junior, 16

 

Setting

The basement of a high school. Present time.

 

At rise, MATT stands upstage right, with his back

turned. He has something in his hands, but we cannot

see it.

There is the sound of a slamming door and footsteps

down a metal staircase. PIGGY appears from the

shadows, breathless.

MATT tosses whatever is in his hands aside, turning

around, startled.

 

 

MATT

                                                                                (glaring angrily)

What the hell? What are you doing here?

 

PIGGY

                                                                                (panting)

Storm.

 

(MATT crosses his arms defensively while PIGGY pulls

herself together.)

 

 

MATT

Yeah, it was supposed to rain. I meant what are you doing at school after hours?

 

(PIGGY straightens, tossing her backpack toward the

wall, near MATT.)

 

PIGGY

I have permission to use the library after hours. My phone was off, so I didn’t know until I heard the sirens. Anyway, why are you here so late?

 

MATT

None of your business. You’re the loser who was in the library. Don’t you have friends? Do you even go here?

 

PIGGY

                                                                                (embarrassed)

One, I like the library. Two, I don’t have friends. Three, I’ve been a year behind you since I was in first grade.

MATT

How come I’ve never seen you before?

PIGGY

Apparently, I’m invisible unless someone wants to make fun of me. I’m Piggy.

(MATT stifles a laugh and sits on the floor next to

PIGGY’S bag.)

 

 

MATT

Piggy? Seriously.

 

(PIGGY plops down next to MATT, her bag between

them)

 

PIGGY

Well, it’s not on my birth certificate, but try growing up with a funny little nose and a spare tire, and the nicknames make themselves.

MATT

That’s shitty.

PIGGY

                                                                                (rolling her eyes and sighing)

Like you’d know. Everyone loves you.

MATT

They do not—

(He is interrupted by the tiny window near the ceiling

rattling)

 

PIGGY

You really didn’t hear the tornado sirens?

(The roaring freight train sound of the passing tornado

stuns them both into silence.)

MATT

Holy shit.

 

PIGGY

Yeah, what am I doing here? First, reading and now, not dying. You were saying?

MATT

Not everyone loves me. My dad took off when I was six and my mom blamed me. The only reason I might graduate before I’m twenty is because the teachers let me coast so I can play ball. Now my mom is sending me to live with my piece of shit dad because her new boyfriend doesn’t want me around. My name isn’t even Matt. It’s James Matthew Junior. My dad’s James. My granddad was Matthew. He’s the only one who was ever decent to me.

(PIGGY looks at her shoes for a moment, chewing on

her lip while she looks for something to say.)

PIGGY

                                                                                (cautiously)

Matt….why were you down here if you didn’t hear the tornado sirens?

(MATT reaches into the dark corner where he’d tossed

the mysterious object earlier and pulls out

a rope, poorly tied into a noose.)

 

 

MATT

I can’t get the knot right.

(PIGGY grabs the rope, more annoyed than

concerned.)

PIGGY

Why do guys always do it like that?

 

MATT

                                                                                (defensive)

Like what?

PIGGY

Kill yourselves messy. It’s hangings and shotguns and someone has to clean that up. When a woman commits suicide, she takes pills or slits her wrists in a full bathtub.

MATT

No offense, but you’re really creepy. Why are you the suicide expert?

PIGGY

                                                                                (laughing, mocking MATT’S earlier words)

None of your business. Don’t you have friends? Do you even go here? [beat] I’ve lived here since I was six, and other than my family, the only time anyone talks to me, they call me Piggy. Jesus, I’ve been trying to figure out how to do it for years.

MATT

Sounds like you already know.

PIGGY

I know how. I just get close and I think, what if tomorrow is better?

MATT

What if it’s not?

PIGGY

Then maybe the next day will be.

(They sit in silence, as if contemplating a better

tomorrow)

MATT

What’s your real name?

PIGGY

It’s Claire. Like in The Breakfast Club. “It’s a fat girl’s name.” Life imitates art.

 

(She digs in her bag and pulls out an Almond Joy candy

bar, offering it to MATT)

MATT

What’s this for?

PIGGY/CLAIRE

Eat the Joy part first. Save the rest for tomorrow.

(The lights dim as MATT breaks into a smile.)

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