ACT ONE

SCENE ONE

The curtains rise, revealing two figures walking in the snow.

Small snowflakes and specks of snow are falling onto the stone pavement that Sheila and Gerald are
walking through, creating indents into the already fallen white snow. Around them are dimly lit
lamps, although there would be one in a few that was brighter than the rest. Sheila Birling is wearing
her newly tailored long brown button-up coat, the most expensive pair of black platform shoes one
could find, although hidden under her long patterned beige skirt. The cold night prompts her to wear
additional clothing such as a lovely pair of silken gloves and a matching set of a fur hat and scarf,
made primarily from fox skin and fur. Whereas for Gerald, he wears a long navy coat with a set of
buttons that run down the chest of it. Peeking out from the inside is a white shirt, with the collar
tucked in under the coat. He wears black pants, and also very expensive black shoes that
complement the pants. A grey and flat tuxedo hat bringing class into his somewhat simple attire. The
anxious couple decided to go for a walk to relieve stress after the big incident.

Sheila and Gerald walk in complete silence until they reach a small park near the Birling residence.
Sheila takes a seat on one of the two wooden swings, Gerald follows in suit.

After a moment’s hesitation, with a questioning tone Sheila finally speaks up.

Sheila: Gerald?

Gerald: Yes?

Sheila: (after a short break) Why did you do it?

Gerald: (calmly) Sheila love, we shouldn’t talk about this right now.

Sheila: (Interrupting, hastily) Why not. The others are sorting things out so we should to. You should
not run from mistakes, you know that.

Gerald: (hesitating) I don’t know? I was a busy fella, needed some time to relax and needed
someone to take my stress out on.
Sheila: Isn’t that the type of thing you ask your fiancé for? I mean, imagine how I feel.

Gerald: I know, but Sheila, it’s all in the past, it doesn’t matter now. I love you and I promise to treat
you splendidly the rest of your life. Buying anything you want, and caring for all your needs.

Sheila: (Now facing Gerald) Do you really think I’d believe you? After all this? Gerald, are you even
sorry?

They are now both facing each other.

Gerald: (frustrated) Why should I be sorry? A man has to take care of his needs, it’s not my fault.

Sheila: Will you really never do this again?

Gerald: I will not.

Sheila: (lets out a laugh) Alright.

Gerald: So, will you still be my wife?

Sheila: No. I will not.

Gerald: (astonished) What? Why?

Sheila: I refuse to marry a man with such attitude. You won’t even admit to the fact that you used
that girl while we were dating! You cheated on me! What reason do I have to still be with you?”

Gerald: You have to marry me. You’ve already talked with your father. Sheila it doesn’t matter, I’ve
got everything you need, you will never find someone like me.

Sheila: What nonsense! I’m my own person, I will find someone else, someone who isn’t a scumbag!

Gerald: (with anger and gets off the swing to face her) what did you call me? Why are you using such
vulgar language?

Sheila: (Now standing in front of Gerald) That will be all. I don’t have any intention of continuing in
this matter.

Gerald: (with a red face) You don’t deserve me, women should not have a say in what is right and
what is wrong. Especially you Sheila, the intelligent men in your life should be guiding you.

Sheila: (cutting him off) I should be able to make my own decisions. And you, what if I went and
married John? He’s a fine lad.

Gerald: (cutting her off, readjusting his tie) John? John is nowhere near the perfect man I am.

Sheila: You are far from perfect.

Gerald: Why you are quite feisty tonight aren’t you? Stop acting like you aren’t guilty! You got that
poor girl sacked from the place she loved!

Sheila: And you aren’t guilty?

Gerald: No I’m not! I have remorse, but I should not be feeling this. She was a beautiful girl, I was
being helpful.

Sheila: (cracks a small smile) And I am not a beautiful girl? I was feeling precarious before, and now,
am I not pretty?

Gerald grabs Sheila’s hands gently

Gerald: (almost pleading) Sheila, you are even more loveable, your heart as white and pure as the
moon. I cannot be the person you are, as a man, I must carry out my responsibilities. We can still be
married. Forget about all this. Forget about it all.

Sheila: (Thinking carefully) forget it? I could never forget something like this, you cannot either. It
isn’t right. We burdened her, we deserve to be burdened back.

Gerald: She worked at Milwards! How could you care about someone like that?

Sheila: She’s dead! That’s all that matters, she was a person too! We drove her to the end, her
tipping point was us.

Gerald: I don’t care. Don’t try to make me feel bad. I’ve almost given up with this bratty attitude.

Sheila takes a step towards Gerald, slapping him harshly on the cheek. She lowers her hand and
remains in front of him. He puts his hand on the red imprint, the gloves reducing the damage he
took. Red hot tears running down the sides of her cheeks, into the fur scarf she has wrapped around
her slim neck.
Gerald slowly looks up at her, he attempts to slap her back but misses when she takes a step back.
Looking at the floor sniffling, Sheila speaks up.

Sheila: (quiet and muffled but still audible) If you loved me you would at least listen to me.

Gerald: (shouting) Well I don’t! I don’t love you! Women shouldn’t be like you.

Sheila: I can take care of myself. I don’t need a man to tell me what to do, and certainly not you. You
don’t have any care for anyone but yourself. That girl. She, she wasn’t one of us but she didn’t
deserve what you did.

Gerald: (cutting her off): Enough! This is absurd! Stop, stop talking about her, all she was, was easy
on the eyes!

Sheila: Easy on the eyes? Is that all you see her as?

Gerald: I mean yes! She has no money, no assets and she worked at the lowest of the lows!

Sheila: So, she meant to die?

Gerald: I’m not saying she should’ve died, it doesn’t matter to me, dead or not.

Sheila: But you contributed to her death Gerald!

Gerald: (almost in tears) For the last time Sheila, I don’t care! She would’ve died hereafter.

Sheila: What about me? Do you even care about how I felt?

Gerald: (out of anger, almost laughing) No! They told me to marry you! I never wanted to, but
Birling&co was too big not to deny the offer! It gives me a stable arrangement while I..

Sheila: Do you hear yourself? Listen to yourself! I simply cannot recognise you anymore Gerald!

Gerald: (shocked by himself) I… I didn’t mean it. I promise, I.. I was just angry. We can work things
out.. please let me..

Gerald leans in to kiss Sheila, attempting to fix their broken bond, but to his expectance she kicks him
with power, sending him straight into the dirt. His face now kissing the dirt instead of her lips. Not
even attempting to get up.

Sheila: We’re done, don’t come looking for me. Don’t even try to. You piece of rubbish!

Sheila walks off, leaving Gerald quite literally in the dust. New tears threatening to fall from her eyes
as she clenches her heart. She walks into the distance, then remembers something and so she starts
walking with purpose, she starts striding, then jogging, and then starts running as fast as her legs
can take her.

SCENE TWO

Sheila stops in front of a door, knocking delicately, hoping anyone inside could hear.

John: Sheila? Why are you crying? Come in.

Sheila walks in, John doesn’t close the door, they share a close hug in the doorway, arms wrapped
around each other tightly.

Gerald shockingly stares at them through the gap, he had run after her but she was too caught up in
her thoughts to notice.
John: Did you finally do it?

Sheila: I did.

John: (irritated) Good job, you’re better off without that stuck up bastard.

They embrace each other once again, both smiling.

Gerald runs, not too fast but just enough to help him get away from the sight, before knowing it, he
was at the park the two were at not long ago. He sits on the swing, the one he sat on before,
imagining her sitting next to him, looking, longing for her to be with him again.

Gerald: (a few tears spilling from his eyes) How could I say those things? Now, I’ve lost her, I will
never find someone who will love me ever again will I?

Gerald: (accepting) I may as well see what I caused.

Gerald steps off the swing and slowly makes his way to the infirmary.

The curtains close with Gerald’s figure slowly disappearing into the distance.

THE END.
 Death before Life.
[She watched the water droplets abruptly fall on the hell-hot metal and turn into gas. Her hair a mess, a girl of
the name Eva Smith bent to pick it up. The girl’s worker’s bonnet slightly loose and falling off her head,
revealing her greasy, dirty, cherry red hair. Rips occur in the girl’s dress from time to time, but yet her
periwinkle blue dress appears grey from ash exposure.

The scenery is rough and not sanitary, like a man’s workplace, yet delicate at the
same time. Multiple women in worker’s bonnets and dresses are scattered throughout, some carrying hell fire
metal, some bending it, some printing on it, and some packaging the precious goods. Rats and bugs skid across
the floor to avoid being squashed by the women’s metal boot. We focus on the girl – Eva Smith.]

Eva Smith {panting from exhaustion, sweaty and sticky}: Who in the world needs this much
metal! And at this temperature as well? This is absolute blasphemy! [She picks up the thick metal rod] It
would be a better idea to rather deal with old wailing hags in a dress store all day than to be in this
hell hole. This is quite literally hell, I mean the average temperature is 28°c. Next thing you know my
temper is going to be as high as the burning ceiling! By the end of this month I wouldn’t be rather
surprised if the skin on my hand slid off.

Ruth Golding: Oh shut it Eva! You’re going to get scolded by Mr. Birling again. Did the
last scolding not go bad enough for you that you have to search for another one from the boss? Are
you a safari explorer?

Eva Smith: You’re in no position to speak Ruth! Weren’t you the one who got her pay
docked because you gave Mr. Birling a shimmer of the nasty old attitude, didn’t ya? You’ve got the
looks of a bride, but you are an absolute shrew!

Ruth Golding: That was no attitude, Eva! It was ridiculous how he docked my pay, I
simply just told him that I wasn’t on packaging duty that day! To be completely fair I was at the
printing station! He couldn’t’ve just opened his eyes like the supposedly wise and future telling man
he is?

Margaret Brown {joining in after eavesdropping}: If you’re talking about docking pay, I’ve
got hell of a story for you!

Ruth Golding: Oh, what is it you have to say this time Margaret. I just can’t wait to hear
another joke!

Margaret Brown: Well, hear me out ladies. I was working by the metal heating station –
as that’s my usual spot – and the rope I was using to tie my hair snapped! Crazy right? And so-

Eva Smith: Get on with it! {She drops a metal cylinder, causing a dense bong to occur}

Margaret Brown: I am Evie! Anyways, before this suffragette interrupted me, I was
saying how my hair rope snapped, and so I could not tie up my hair as desired, and well, Mr. Birling
had seen this and wasn’t very pleased. He scolded me as if tomorrow wasn’t visible, going on about
how “the consumers shall find a hair and think we’re rats!” and that I’m a “dirty scoundrel who
doesn’t deserve a job!” It was extremely offending to me of course but by that time my pay was
already docked for a month! I have my poor little Freddy at home to feed you know!

Ruth Golding: You have a little boy Margaret?

Margaret Brown: No, oh god no! I couldn’t take care of a precious little child, I’m too
obtuse! It’s my dear cat of course!

Eva Smith {ecstatic}: Brilliant! It’s absolutely amazing!

 Ruth Golding {bewildered}: What? The cat?

Eva Smith: No! Why would I care about the stupid cat? We should hold a strike! We
need a higher pay, we don’t have enough for daily needs! It’s absolutely baffling! We don’t want to be
masculine, we want to be feminine, don’t we? Well we certainly can’t be if the shillings we’re being
paid in can’t even pay for a shoe! We need to do something about this, it’s disgusting! He’s a selfish
millionaire who can buy any gold he wants, he certainly doesn’t need that gold printed handkerchief,
does he? We’re dying out here while he’s up there drinking champagne imported from bloody
France! Don’t you ladies agree we need to do something about this foolery? Doesn’t it make sense for
us to be paid more if he can afford pearls and cars galore? It’s appalling how he treats his workers!
Now, do we agree that something is to be done about this?

All {calling out}: Of course!

Eva Smith: When does this need to be done?

All {except Margaret Brown}: Today!

Margaret Brown {a second later than everybody else}: Tomorrow!

{All turn to look at Margaret, they’re confused, but mostly judging}

Margaret Brown: What? I’m tired, okay! Is that a sin?

Eva Smith: No but, I was- I don’t know... sort of expecting a different answer.

{Silence fills the room up, and awkwardness takes over the atmosphere}

Ruth Golding: Well what are we waiting for, let’s go!

{Everyone rushes off to recruit people, and while most agree to stand against the alleged enemy - Mr. Birling -
some refuse, afraid that they’ll be let off from their beloved jobs. Over a short period of two days, groups were
established, leaders were assigned. Ruth in charge of group 1, Margaret in charge of group 2, and last but not
least, Eva in charge of group 3.

The day came for the strike, everyone showed

themselves to the factory, and the show began.}

Eva Smith {ripping off her worker’s bonnet, yelling}: WHAT DO WE WANT?

All {ripping off their worker’s bonnets, yelling}: HIGHER PAY!

Eva Smith: WHEN DO WE WANT IT?

All: NOW!

{The strike went on for what seemed like a lifetime, until Mr. Birling came out furious. He refused to give in to
the worker’s so-called “nonsense”}

Mr. Birling {aggressively walking into the factory room}: What is this nonsense? What do
you think you’ll gain from this? A higher pay?! You are ALL a disgrace to not only my business, not
only to my pride, not only to the bloody invincible Titanic, but to the whole world, to your mothers,
to everyone who ever loved you in the slightest! How selfish and ungrateful do you all have to be in
order to pull this clownery?! I feel like I'm in a comedy show! You all look like absolute buffoons! Get
back to your work stations immediately, before I fire every single one of you stupid and worthless
women! I knew I should’ve hired men, it must be their time of the month, absolute disgusting
scoundrels. You would all be on the streets selling your body if it weren’t for me! I’m practically your
saviour, you ungrateful disgraces. Men were always, and will always be better than you weak
minded women!
 Eva Smith {Aside}: “Worthless”? “Stupid”? “Disgusting”? “Weak minded”? What is
wrong with this lad? Does he not realise how motivated I must be? He’s so empty headed. We all
need essentials, I couldn’t even afford milk this week! What does he need 5 cars for? There are only 4
people in his family! My goodness! I will not stand down, even if it means I’m risking my status in
this run down town.

Eva Smith {directly to Mr. Birling}: No! We will NOT stand down from your oppression!
Give us an increase in pay!

Mr. Birling: Eva! Tell me right now, who organised this circus!

Eva Smith: No. Respectfully, I will not. Find out by yourself. You selfish jolterhead.

Mr. Birling: EVA! All of you! Tell me right now, who is in charge of your foolery! Or
else I’ll make sure none of you ever fathom the idea of being hired in this town!

{All the group’s members pointed to their once-respected leaders, and the colour from their faces drained.}

Mr. Birling {looking at Margaret, Ruth, and Eva}: All three of you, step forward. {They step
forward, Mr. Birling scans their faces.} Eva. Ruth - why? Just why? And Margaret, the one I trusted most
- how could you? After everything I’ve done for you.

{Margaret looks down in shame, and tears roll down her innocent face}

All of you, my office, now.

{The suspected workers drag their feet across the floor, and avoid eye contact with everyone in their path.

They enter the office, Margaret and Ruth stand, and Eva slumps in the singular wooden chair.}

Eva Smith {Slumped over, practically laying in the uncomfortable seat, in a sarcastic tone}:
What do you want oh dear Mr Birling? Would you like us to purchase another pony for your dear
Shei-

Mr. Birling {furiously}: Keep my daughter’s name out of that dirty mouth of yours.
She’s no delinquent like your kind. You’re basically not a woman at this point- are you? Margaret,
Ruth.

Margaret Brown and Ruth Golding {now looking up and directly at Birling}: Yes sir?

Mr Birling: You two are let off with a warning and a docked pay. You’ll need to
work twice as hard as the others to gain my trust back, now shoo you dirty cockroaches.

Margaret Brown and Ruth Golding: Yes, Sir.

{They rush out of the room like scurrying mice. Heavily breathing, they peek through the office window to
eavesdrop, but get told to leave by a nearby bodyguard of Mr. Birling’s}

Mr. Birling: What was the purpose of all this Eva? You really thought I would
increase your pay?

Eva Smith: You’re just a dirty, selfish, pig. Aren’t you? Just pay the women a few
more cents, you privileged man.

Mr. Birling: I’ve been patient with you, Eva. I have given you too many chances to
count, but you’ve completely lost me now. It’s impossible to even focus with you in the factory, it’s a
shame, and you’re one of my best workers - one of the strongest too.

Eva Smith: Oh boo hoo go cry yourself a river, like I have any care for your
worthless trust. Didn’t you call us stupid a moment ago?
 Mr. Birling: Was I wrong?

Eva Smith: Entirely. Like always, it’s your brand really. Like a stamp.

Mr. Birling: Well I do apologise really, for two things it seems.

Eva Smith {bewildered}: What?

Mr Birling: I’m letting you off Eva, you’re an absolute disgrace and a distraction.
What else could I do? You’re also a threat to my reputation, but I guess that wasn’t a surprise. Now I
would appreciate it if you would pack up your room and get off my property, respectfully of course.

Eva Smith: You can’t do this. This is probably illegal, I’m going to report you.

Mr. Birling: Go ahead, see if they’ll believe you after the false and absurd claims you
made about my daughter’s boyfriend.

Eva Smith: You’re pathetic. Rot in Hell.

Mr Birling: Same to you, go change your pad or whatever you ladies do when it’s
that time of the month.

End of scene

Tourner Dan La Vide

ACT ONE
Milwards, a pungent smell of black tea fills the room. Extravagant dresses hang loosely from the
neatly placed hangers. Silk hangs from the windows, and an abundance of light fills the room. Mugs
of tea were scattered around, exemplifying the laborious, intricate, and meticulous work done in such
a place. Tiny trinkets littered the only available space on the table. Broken buttons and a worn-out
sewing kit took the space near the sewing machines for easy access. Whilst the only neatly placed
necessities were the hats that frankly illuminated a faint glow on top of them. EVA SMITH, the new
worker – a young woman, neatly dressed with a welcoming countenance, and was at the point in her
life where she was neither financially stable, nor fitting the normality that faced her class. The young
Eva Smith, was born in the trenches; as many would gaily proclaim, and had taken on this job for the
small sum of money that she would’ve received. KERRY, the manager, has recently stubbed her foot
on a needle, a miniscule one for that matter, and had been vile ever since the occurrence. SHEILA
and MRS. BIRLING stand wide-eyed in front of a nearby mirror, assessing the dresses and
meticulous work done by the workers who stayed long shifts to perfect such necessities. MRS.
BIRLING, a demeaning, yet prominent figure within the forthcoming industry; an iniquitous and
malevolent pneuma emerged from her. The pretty young lady, SHEILA, in her early twenties was a
fragile and naïve soul indeed. Although, this young SHEILA was well-bred from one of the best
families in Brumley, her demeanor showcased her child-like impurities; portraying her in a light of
such immaturity – that was often looked down upon. The BIRLING’S had specifically gone to
Milwards in search for a seductive dress, that would have intentionally enhanced Sheila’s most
desirable lady-like features for the coming dinner.

The last day of autumn, 1912

// Sheila, Mrs. Birling, and Eva enter the stage. //
SHEILA: (loud, boisterous) Mummy!
MRS. BIRLING: What is it my dear, darling Sheila?
SHEILA: This dress! For heaven’s sake, the style is unworthy of attention. And, such silk shouldn’t
be handled in a manner! Mummy, it looks horrendous on me.
MRS. BIRLING: I doubt that, dear. We will just find something that suits you, if you do not desire
such a dress.
SHEILA: Excuse me, if I could ask for some assistance here, please. (Demeaning and impatient)
Excuse me, we would need some assistance in finding a new dress!
EVA SMITH: My apologies, miss. I do appreciate your patience, but we do have a plentiful amount
of customers that need attending as well. (Gaily) Uhm… Could I please have that dress?
MRS. BIRLING: Of course, please take it. My daughter, Sheila Birling states that it is in fact a
nuisance to her very eyes.
EVA SMITH: (in an intimidated tone) Alright, I see.
SHEILA: Mummy, I desire that dress over there. It is indeed spectacular, and very fitting for me.
MRS. BIRLING: [Glances over to Eva] Good gracious, isn’t it that timid worker from a couple of
minutes ago? She looks quite stunning, in my humble opinion.
SHEILA: (fuming with rage) Do you truly think she looks better than me, mother?
MRS. BIRLING: [Enthralled by Eva’s beauty) Oh no, dear I just like the color of the silk, which
really accentuates her poise and eloquence!
SHEILA: Mother that is the same dress that I had worn – precisely three minutes ago.
EVA SMITH: (jovially) Lord, this dress… I am absolutely stunned, its intricate details: soft plain
feathers, meticulously placed frills, and this periwinkle color that glistens – it is simply unmatched!
SHEILA: (jaundiced tone, under her breath) She looks like such a hideous beast with that on.
EVA SMITH: I am absolutely astounded. I have never witnessed myself in such a dress that has been
fitted to a tea.
SHEILA: (bitterly) Mummy, why is this woman like this? She simply doesn’t deserve to be in such
a meticulously made dress.
MRS. BIRLING: Young Sheila, will you ever understand? (Sternly) I must reprimand you, if you are
acting like this. We can’t just go reporting people who have made us envious.
SHEILA: [Eyes start fuming, and Sheila wickedly glares at Eva with malicious intent] Oh yes, I can
and I will do that. Just that.
[Sheila waits patiently in the dark, before the store closes its doors for the day. Mrs. Birling and Eva
exit.]
SHEILA: (Possessively) Hello there, I’m Sheila!
KERRY: I’m so sorry, Miss Sheila – we are just about to close this store.
SHEILA: I see, I was just to make a report on one of the employees working here; as they treated me
and my mother with utter disrespect!
KERRY: Well, do you remember who they were?
SHEILA: Yes, I believe their name was – Eva.
KERRY: (aghast) Oh, Eva Smith? We have had nothing but great news from customers, regarding
that girl.
SHEILA: My good god, that girl merely snagged a dress in pure daylight. I had seen the act right in
front of my two very eyes.
KERRY: It is against the law to do such heinous actions! (Furiously) I will fire her immediately, she
is a danger to society, and she must not be doing such acts in a civilized place.
SHEILA: Yes, indeed. I do agree with those sentiments exactly.

ACT TWO
//Sheila exits, Eva enters the stage. //
The scene is evidently the same as Act 1.
EVA: (tired) Kerry, could you just help me with these fabrics; they’ve gotten and created what feels
like holes on top of my shoulders.
KERRY: Sheila… [Her voice trailing off, eyes meet up, seriously.]
EVA: What is it, Kerry? Is something wrong?
KERRY: (hesitant) I’ve received a complaint that you’ve stolen something from this store.
EVA: I would not do such a thing, that is so – [Whispering softly under her breath] malevolent.
KERRY: You were reported to doing this deed. So, I can only do my duty and protect the community
from you.
EVA: Who had given you this tip?
KERRY: Uh-huh, so you did do this act! I cannot full disclose this information; but, a pretty young
girl named Sheila.
EVA: I had not stolen that dress. This is the epitome of hearsay! Why would I be doing such a thing if
I ought to get no reward from it? [Enraged, with a deep burning fury in her eyes] You already know
that I am getting mere little pennies from this job. What good do you think it would’ve done if I had
stolen that dress? That’s right, my reputation would plummet – I am already on the brink of
bankruptcy, and have no secure home that I reside in.
KERRY: Eva, please calm down. You mustn’t act like this in such a public place! You are meant to
be a sensible adult. Yet, you are philistine in your hostile actions and thoughts. I am starting to believe
every single word that came out of that young woman’s mouth!
EVA: [eyelids heavy, tears about to cascade down her eyes] I… I…
KERRY: Eva, I know you are a responsible adult like all of us. But, we cannot and will not exclude
you from the strict policies that we have here.
EVA: (desperate) Please Kerry, please! [Pleading and on her knees] I can’t go through this pain and
suffering once more. The people love me here, you’ve been praising me for the last three weeks!
KERRY: [Mutters in a very melancholy manner] I am sorry Eva, please leave…

ACT THREE
The streets of Brumley, the last night of autumn, 1912
//Kerry exits the stage. //
Eva resides peacefully on the streets of Brumley. She had always known this day was coming – the
people higher up simply denounced her existence. What use did she have for them anyway? The
flickering lamppost perfectly described her existence – irrelevant and anomalous from society. A
freak, if you will. The smell of red kidney beans wafted through the air. This was the only thing people
could afford these days; or somehow rummage through truck-loads of garbage just to source out their
dinner for that night. Her eyelids lay downcast, and she could only think of warmth. She desired for
heat – heat that wasn’t coming until the next three months. Her only belongings were her silk dress
and a pair jet-black gloves that had worn-out holes on them. She dreamed of having thick warm
clothes, and a bed that would eventually lull her into a tranquil and blissful sleep. But now it was just
the girl with the rugged clothes against universe.

EVA: (in an exasperated tone) Huh. They always seem to be living such a lavish life. But why can’t
I? Why can’t I be like them? They throw me out like fruit that’s been rotting for a couple of days, but
why is it like this? Their house are filled with an abundance of bottles of port and elegant meals; I am
simply left with crumbs for my meals. What is it that they yearn for in a worker? Countless days and
nights I am left here untouched – yet so jovial in the circumstances when they notice me. How is it so
that they have these countless gallant opportunities, whilst I sit here waiting for one to come by? It is
simply unfair! These long laborious days have gotten out of hand, and it’s only gotten ever more
treacherous. The only path that is available for me to tread on is filled with nothing more than
trepidation. What if I was just born in a different family, how would my life play out? I’ve tried my
whole entire life to fit in with the norms of this society, yet they don’t accept me at all. I am just an
uneducated hag to them. I mean, look at me! I look despicable, these worn-out clothes are the epitome
of it all. [Rain starts pouring on the stage. Eva starts running to find some form of shelter.] What use
is there in living anymore, if I am put down and neglected every single second of this life that I live?
This torment and anguish has engulfed my entire being up whole, and what more can I offer in this
world full of seldom opportunities? [Eva walks to the edge of the bridge, where the river lies below]
(Whispering and whimpering dubiously) I should just end it all, if it is all foreboding. I am only in
deep apprehension, and have no will to live anymore. [Steps on top of the bridge, now looking down
onto the shallow waters] I have lived in momentary silence long enough, neglected and kept hidden
underneath the covers. I know that I don’t deserve this torment. My life only grows ever more
precarious, as the seconds tick by; I am not worthy to live any life any longer. [Voice decrescendos to
a low mumble, and an unfavorable wince occurs] I have lost my way…