THE CONTENTS OF THIS DOCUMENT ARE PRIVATE AND

CONFIDENTIAL

CARLY’S SOLILOQUY

by
AUDREY COETZEE

Based on a book by
MELINA MARCHETTA

(If you have developed the project with the assistance

of a government funding body you should indicate this
here)

FIFTH DRAFT
OCTOBER 2023
© AUDREY COETZEE, JUNE 2000
12 Cotherstone Road, Kalamunda
WA 6076, Australia
Ph: 0456 738 993
1. INT. CARLY’S BEDROOM. DAY TIME.
CARLY has just had an argument with Beatrice (Carly’s friend)
because she told Carly that she is jealous of her “perfect”
life and that Carly is ungrateful for her privileged position.
Carly runs home and is now sitting alone in her room and
staring at herself in the mirror.
CARLY (O/S)
People look at me and think I’ve
got it all figured out. A rich
family, a pretty face and a
perfect career as a model laid
out before me. But nobody ever
looks beyond that. Two words…
rich and famous is all that
crosses their mind. Not kind,
generous, or a friend…
(Seething)I mean the only one in
that bloody school that isn’t
branded with those 2 words is
that wog. (sudden outburst) Boy
she thinks her life is so hard.
Always going on about her family
issues and all that crap. I mean
come on! Don’t we all have family
problems? What is she even
talking about?! Everyone can see
she grows up in a perfectly good
family.
I bet she doesn’t have a
mum who is never too shy
to tell her when she
thinks she’s too fat or
too skinny. I bet her mum
doesn’t tell her to keep
her grades low because
‘boys don’t like girls
that are smarter than
them’. I bet she doesn’t
have a dad who can and
has knocked her clean off
her feet.
Throws a lipstick at the mirror and cracks it and then sinks
to the floor crying.
(quietly)Or maybe she does.
I guess I’ll never know.
 I mean, everything always seems
to turn out perfectly for her
anyway.
Dreamy expression and rocking from side to side on the floor
hugging herself.
She probably lives in a small,
cozy home with her mother giving
her hugs when she’s upset and
telling her stories when she
can’t get to sleep.
Hands drop releasing herself from the ball-
position.
That I can’t say about my own
without my fingers crossed.
(sudden outburst) All my mum
seems to ever do is criticise me,
about my body, my looks, my
clothes. Is there anything that I
can do well?! And whenever I try
to raise it with her she just
brushes me off saying that I
should get used to it if I am
going to be a model. Jee, she
goes on and on about that.
(quietly)Half the time it feels
like I’m living her dream anyway.
She already has her hopes set on
signing me up with the best
modelling agency in Australia,
but it seems she has already lost
sight of me and what I want to do
with my life. Like… all the
attention is hard to deal with
already! And I’m supposed to be
able to put up with all the
cameras and nosy news reporters
for the rest of my life?!
Then why continue to show up to
the shoots? You might be asking.
(quietly) Well, I don’t know. You
might think its kind of silly,
but I often hope that if I just
sign up for that one last shoot,
one last runway she might
actually want to come along to
see me or maybe even… you know…
want to get to know me.
 Although I can’t blame her too
much. She has had a pretty rough
time marrying a man like my
father. Let’s just say we are
thankful that his law firm takes
him all over the world. It is
better that he is not home.
In the end, I guess all I have
ever really wanted is a friend.
Stares down at her feet. Then starts picking at
her nails with a sense of shame.
(quietly) Although I have often
thought that I probably don’t
deserve one. After all I’ve said
and done, I can easily understand
why someone might find it hard to
be friends with me. I am no fool
to believe that I’m some sort of
saint. But growing up in
different circumstances I often
hope that things would have
turned out better.
Stands up and starts pacing around the room.
That I wouldn’t have to silently
gasp when something rolled off my
tongue that sounded more like my
father’s words than my own. That
I wouldn’t have to sleep in my
closet every time dad had time
off work. That I wouldn’t have to
gaze over at Josie and her
friends in the courtyard at how
seemingly happy and perfect their
lives are.
And by the way… when I say
friend, I don’t mean those girls
from school that follow me around
like a flock of seagulls. A real
friend. Who wants to know me as
just Carly. Not as rich Carly or
pretty Carly or even famous
Carly. Just Carly.
Someone to know me.
Someone to love me.
Stares straight at the mirror a with a warm
expression on her face.
 Like you.
Stands up and hugs the air as if embracing a friend. Only to
realise that there is no one there.
END SCENE