Play Twenty-Nine- Maybe.

[Lights up on a girl, C.S. She wears daintily colored clothing and a blank expression, except for sad eyes.]

GIRL:
Maybe I don't want to be your friend anymore.
Maybe I don't want to write.
Maybe I don't want to talk.
Maybe I want to talk.
Maybe I don't know how to talk.
Maybe I want to be alone.
Maybe I want to be in a room full of people.
Maybe I want to cry.
Maybe I want to laugh.
Maybe words hurt.
Maybe they heal.
Maybe I like chocolate.
Maybe I prefer flowers.
Maybe I think actions speak louder than words.
Maybe I think words are nice.
Maybe I enjoy wearing dresses.
Maybe I would much rather be in jeans.
Maybe I write plays.
Maybe I write poetry.
Maybe I share my life with others.
Maybe I keep my life to myself.
Maybe this speech sounds natural.
Maybe this speech sounds forced.
Maybe I sing along to the radio.
Maybe I don't listen to the radio.
Maybe I read Vonnegut.
Maybe I just read Golding.
Maybe I wear a mask.
Maybe I expose myself.
Maybe I like morning.
Maybe I like the night.
Maybe I lie.
Maybe I tell the truth.
Maybe I mean it.
Maybe I don't.
Maybe I want to die,
Or Maybe, just Maybe I want to live.
Maybe you have no idea.
[She smiles sadly at the audience.]

Maybe you should guess.

[Blackout.]