THE VOID GOD’S SHARED DREAM

by Delphi Caldera

CAST

DOROTHY - Troubled young girl

DAMON - Dorothy’s brother

THE ANGEL - Not actually an angel

ANNA - Dead girl

SCENE

An eggshell white living room with amorphous and colorful gaps where the furniture should be. There is one window with nothing beyond it. DOROTHY stands in the center of it with a thick layer of soot and blood on her hands. Her brother DAMON leans against the wall, marked with stigmata and wearing cheap plastic angel wings. The siblings do not resemble each other.

DOROTHY

The dreams converge.

DAMON

That’s kind of the point.

DOROTHY

Will she come back?

DAMON

How should I know?

DOROTHY

Don’t you know everything? Aren’t you the god of this place?

DAMON

(admiring the scars)

Feels like a migraine.

DOROTHY

Feels like a fire. I was back then, again. The timeline doesn’t work like it’s supposed to. I should have no memories of that place. But everytime I close my eyes I see the embers of it. I can’t even remember my father’s face.

DAMON

Was he your father?

DOROTHY

Are you my brother?

(pause)

What are you, exactly? Right now?

DAMON

Well, I’m still getting used to it.

DOROTHY

Do you still love me? Did you ever?

DAMON

Of course. I mean, as much as I could. All things considered.

DOROTHY

You stole the godhead.

DAMON

It was always mine.

DOROTHY

Liar.

DAMON

Tell me about the fire.

DOROTHY convulses and the room is filled with harsh, red light. DAMON looks up at the stage lights with a quizzical expression. DOROTHY’s shaking hands find her head. Black and red color her hair as the sediment runs off.

DOROTHY

You should have seen. There’s never been a red that bright and there never will be again. That flame came so hot that it felt like frostbite. Shouldn’t it have thawed me, brother? Or couldn’t it have burnt me down all the way? Of all the things it could have done to me, it chose to live inside of me. Blood-boiling, fever-temp, licking, swallowing fire. The arsonist is a thief; the fire takes. My sisters and mother. The breath of my father. I’ll never see them again, not even in memories. I was just a baby. When they found me, I didn’t even cry. I’ve never cried. Not once.

DAMON

Really?

DOROTHY

Never. Wait. Not until-

The room quickly fades into a blue tint. DOROTHY begins to cry. DAMON jumps up, arms in array, now glaring at the lights.

DAMON

Stop, stop. You’re jumping too far ahead.

Natural light returns. DOROTHY wipes her eyes, now just irritated. When things go back to normal, DAMON relaxes, easing back against the wall.

DOROTHY

This seems like a bad way to abuse your powers.

DAMON

Wait a tic.

DOROTHY

No, this is so stupid. Why are you doing this? Couldn’t you be doing anything else?

DAMON

Time is infinite and I think mortality is out of the question. It’s in the job description.

DOROTHY

You’re avoiding the question.

DAMON

Yes. Anyway, it’s your soul. Humor me.

DOROTHY:

Hurts.

DAMON

Humor me.

DOROTHY

Why did you take me in? Why did you let me-

DAMON

Is it that hard to believe I like you?

DOROTHY

Yes.

DAMON laughs. DOROTHY does not.

DOROTHY

No one’s ever taken me willingly.

DAMON

You didn’t ever want to stay! Really, I should be asking you the same thing. Why didn’t you leave?

DOROTHY

And go where?

DAMON

I was hard to live with. I would speak Enochian.

DOROTHY

I didn’t mind. And it didn’t matter. You were absent towards The End.

The lights cut out.

DAMON

Hey! Don’t think about that. I was busy, obviously. Setting all of this up.

The lights come back on. They are green this time. Plants have appeared around the scene.

DOROTHY

You found me in the greenhouse. I’d broken in, but you still let me stay. Why?

DAMON

I’d never had a friend before. You followed me like a lost puppy.

DOROTHY

I’d never had one either.

DAMON

Yeah. Right now, you’re still kind of my only friend. Except for-

DOROTHY

The angel.

DAMON

Yeah.

DOROTHY

Where is he?

DAMON

Waiting. He’ll find me when it’s over.

DOROTHY

Okay. What um- What’s happening? How did I get here?

DAMON

Our living room?

DOROTHY

(gesturing towards the darkness of the window)

No, I mean

DAMON

The aether is a prerequisite for all creation. I melted it back down to waters so that I could start over.

DOROTHY bites her wrist. The lights fade so gradually into blue that the effect is not immediately obvious.

DAMON

Speaking of water.

DOROTHY

(hand now out of mouth)

It was worse.

DAMON

Worse than the fire?

DOROTHY

Than anything I’ve seen, before or since. Worse than charred flesh, worse than your wine or your flowers or your required blood.

DAMON

Well?

The sound of rushing water is heard faintly in the background.

DOROTHY

I had only looked away for a second. She had braided my hair with flowers the same morning. She’d had flowers in between her fingers. I only let go of her hand for one second.

We were barefoot. The rocks were as slippery as they were sharp. She cried out when it cut her, then made no sound at all when her head split. I thought the blood might turn the water red, but it only ran clear.

She was dead in the time it took to turn my head back. She was dead by the time I held her hand again. The cold water sapped all the color from her skin. Her eyes were open and unseeing, cataract white just like the rest of her.

DAMON

(palpable, somehow judgemental silence)

DOROTHY

What? You want more? You want to know how her parents looked at me when I set the body on the lawn? You want to know what the detectives asked me? The forensic psychologist?

DAMON

Is death all you’ll remember of her?

DOROTHY

No.

DAMON

You already have, haven’t you? I was your first friend. And you forgot all about the second. Do you even remember her name? Do you remember-

DOROTHY

I tied myself to the radiator of her attic and waited for spiders to eat me. The thoughts burnt so badly I thought it was better to just end them there. But she found me still stupid with heat stroke and undid the jump rope of my wrists. She was cool to the touch. Her hands grazed her name; I’d carved it out on my arm.

The sound of running water grows louder.

DAMON

Would you go home, if you could?

DOROTHY

Yes.

DAMON

What if it’s changed?

DOROTHY

I don’t know.

DAMON

Would you go to her, if you could?

DOROTHY

Yes.

DAMON

What if she’s changed?

DOROTHY

I don’t care.

DAMON

(Pause)

Okay. Well, if that’s your choice.

DOROTHY

What?

The room explodes with a blinding and pulsating white light. It’s accompanied by the sound of a heavenly choir, hundreds of voices amplified over each other. Damon is overcome with affection for it, a doe-eyed expression covering his face as he looks up at its source, off-stage, above the set. He then looks back down at Dorothy, still glowing.

The lights cut out entirely, shrouding the scene in darkness and silence. They gradually fade back on to reveal Dorothy standing alone in the dimly lit room. She remains there for several seconds. From outside the window, a bright blue light shines in, enveloping her in its halo. Slowly, she turns to face it.

DOROTHY

...Anna?

The lights cut out.