Sleeping Liar

A modern, dark take on "Sleeping beauty" A very short play. I have other short plays inspired by dark fairy-tales if this one goes down well!

 

(AURORA - Blond female, aged late teens/early 20s
CAMILO - Male, aged early/mid 20s
P - Male, aged early/mid 20s)

(There’s three people sitting around the table. One women, two men. One woman (AURORA) is sitting with her hand in her hands, the others stare blankly. They are exhausted. The table is wooden, sticky with spilled wine, and an empty goblet lies against the table leg. There’s a few rolled pieces of parchment sitting on top, with a metal water jug holding dark-red wine and three glasses sitting nearby. To their left sits another table, with an old clunky computer placed on top, the screen is facing away from the audience.)

(Silence)

(AURORA sits back, lets her head loll onto the back of the chair)

AURORA:
that’s hundreds. It’s talking about hundreds of girls.

CAMILO:
(still staring)
 All blond, all pale

(with an attempt at humour, glancing around the table)
 It appears they have a type, gentlemen.
Seems blond is in season.

(AURORA snorts and stands up, looking exhausted, beaten down. She walks over to the other table and looks over the computer, clicking around.)

AURORA:
 It’s consistent with our other data. They’re concentrating on one appearance.

P:
Yes, well they’ll need to be. Even if they can’t predict the child’s body structure or face shape from a young age, they can ensure that the children look as closely like Aurora now as possible.

CAMILO:
 The rest they can change with plastic surgery, surely? You can create any face shape, any body structure with plastic, like making a clay man. It’d be an easy thing to dye the hair.
(pause) The King and Queen are old now, but there’s more than one way to create an heir.

(Both looking at AURORA, as if analysing)

AURORA:
 (grimly) A clay man for an heir. 
(Correcting herself) A clay man with a uterus.

CAMILO:
Well, ‘Uterus’ being the operative word.

(Attempt at humor, others do not react)

AURORA:
 Well, yes. I’d say it’s quite clear they didn’t want mine.
(half smiling) And stop analysing my body structure P, It’s creepy.

 

 

(CAMILO stands up, stretches, and collects three glasses and the metal water pitcher, which holds a deep red wine)

 

CAMILO:
 (slowly, sounding out every syllable, speaking as slow as he pours the dark red wine into the glasses)
Fertility
(normally)
it’s a funny thing "

P1:
 Yes, they’ll have to test it of course.

AURORA:
(Swallows, is obviously uncomfortable or even fearful. Starts looking at the floor, twitching slightly)
Yes… Those girls… Those tiny little….
(Brisk)
The testing alone will takes months, unless the… results catch quickly
(look towards CAMILO) we’ll be re-finding girls by then.

(Pause)

P1:
 But doing tests on that many girls... The scientific equipment needed, the scale of hormonal blood testing and ovarian ultrasounds... not even months, maybe years! Fertility can even change with age… What will they be doing with the girls in the mean time? They can’t be planning to train them all for your post?

(A long pause, with both AURORA and CAMILO looking at P with confusion, which slowly turns to horror, then pain, then almost guilt. CAMILO looks to AURORA to explain, and she glances at him, before turning back to P who is looking at them in confusion)

AURORA:
 Hormonal blood testing?’ No, no P, they won’t be employing doctor’s to do the testing. It’s not… as reliable a method. (She is looking at the floor again.)

(Pause while the knowledge slowly settles in P. He looks sickened and horrified.)

(silence)

(CAMILO drinks from the wine cup)

CAMILO:
 (Loudly)
Meanwhile, Princess, you’ll be slumbering away.

P1:
 (shakily)
We’ve heard reports that the propaganda has already reached the third and four lines.
(bad sarcasm) 
There’s horror in the streets, forced mourning for weeks.

CAMILO:
 (giving the wine cup to AURORA, and looking her in the eye (with humour))
 You’ve been poisoned, Aurora.

P1:
 (snorts, clearly still horrified, forcing it down)

AURORA:
oh well, just imagine their surprise twenty years from now when their heir arises, unchanged, unaged, beautiful to behold.

P1:
 They’ll believe it. They’ll have to, hope is starved under this bloody rule, and unless they want the country to go to French King through forced succession, you’re their only hope. The King and Queen’s only hope.

AURORA:
 I wonder if the girl will believe it, the girl they bring up. I wonder if she’ll believe they’re her own poisoned blood.

CAMILO:
 (pushing himself off the table)
 Not sure if I don’t believe it myself! They’re very convincing
(winking at AURORA)
You know, there’s some people that claim you aren’t dead, after all.

AURORA:
 (amused) Oh yes? Well I have to say, my dear mother tried hard enough.

CAMILO:
 (laughs shortly) Yes, apparently the King and Queen, in their ‘grief’, have laid you on your bed for days, weeks, and yet there’s no sign of skin rot or the smell of death. You look as though you are only dozing.

(AURORA flops down into a chair facing the audience):
AURORA:
Oh, how fascinating, the story truly is riveting.

CAMILO:
 (coming to stand behind her, leaning against her chair playfully) Yes, it would turn you vain to hear the names they have given you…

P1:
 Pathetic storytelling.

CAMILO:
 ah, but what better story is that then of our own Sleeping Beauty.

Author's Note

First attempt at putting something online. Please, please, please tell me what you think and how I can improve!

I love the idea of dark fairy-tales and think a collection of them would make a great play. What do you think?