Scene Five

Lights up, a spot light on the boy. The word is still up on the curtain. It is about twice the size it was when it first appeared.

Murder

Boy: It's a beautiful word.

He looks up at it. There is a long pause.

Boy: I killed my mother when I was fifteen.

A bitterness enters his voice.

Boy: She didn't understand! I needed a daddy!

He falls to his hands and knees, his eyes narrowed in anger. A sudden childishness comes over him.

Boy: She wouldn't get married to him. She swore she'd never be married again. I hated her for that.

Long pause.

Boy: She deserved to suffer. Like I'd suffered.

He raises his head, his expression blank once more.

Boy: I made sure she suffered. She lived for hours after I'd begun. She wasn't allowed to get out of it easy.

Long pause. He stands up, looking at the word again, which is pulsing and throbbing bright red.

Murder

Boy: It's a beautiful word…

The lights slowly fade to black.