Drama

Icarus

“Failed ambition”, they said.

Pauses

Surely ‘failed ambition’ is preferable to no ambition at all? Like so many people nowadays: stick-out school, sack off sixth-form and end up drifting onto the dole like every other Tom, Dickhead and Harry. No, that was never for me. I like to think I had a bit more about me. A certain drive… well – flight (sniggers) … Sorry.

“A pioneer”, they said.

Pauses, looking smug

Now that’s more like it. Forget Armstrong and Aldrin, this was something new. Don’t get me wrong though, I know what you’re thinking. ‘Why take the chance when you know the risks?’ And before you start speculating, no, it wasn’t my old man’s fault. He warned me. He really did. But when you get an idea in your head, sometimes it gnaws away at you, until you have no other option but to commit to that thought, you know?

And when it comes down to it, we are all magpies. We cling to the stars; bright lights, big cities.

I just wanted the brightest light in the biggest city, that’s all.

Leaning back, he sits in silence for a moment, smiling. Suddenly he sits up

Just imagine-

Pauses, during this section he gradually rises up on his chair, eventually standing. The pace gradually gets faster also

-the ultimate high, illusory and utterly bewildering. Imagine not knowing exactly where it is you are but knowing exactly where you need to go. The heat, heady and sticky sweet. Sweat mounting like the warmth pulsating in the back of your aching throat; the perfect potency – climbing and climbing, up and up through the endless darkness with muscles burning and flesh singed with a waxy residue.

I’m flying.

I’m flying from disbelieving whispers and dad’s tool shed. From the day-to-day drudgery and drunken endeavours with all too familiar faces with unfamiliar names. From vacant stares that mean nothing compared to the relentless glare ahead of me. This is it. Not much further. Not much furth-

Blackout and he sits back on his chair as lights come up

And that was it.  People say parents are always right – well this was no exception. But do I regret it? Not a chance. My lungs may be waterlogged and heavy but at least I don’t have to stagnate behind an office desk, nine till five, day in and day out, until I succumb to something inevitable that will chew my insides up and spit them back out.

You all know me now. My memory will last. I got the closest. The brightest light in the biggest city is my legacy.

Not yours.

Mine.

Elin Schofield

© 2014