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Crazy? A Monologue By Mindy Jones copyright (c) 2001 Mindy Jones Crazy? Define crazy. Am I crazy? Do I look crazy to you? Do you know what crazy is? How would you know what crazy is? Have you ever been crazy? I've never been crazy. I don't know what crazy is. Am I crazy? Why do you think I'm crazy? Just because of what happened to me? Do you even know what happened to me, Doctor? Or do you just know what it says on that paper? "Lost two children in fire." I know what it says, and I know what it means. Do you know what it means? How could you? Were you there that day? Did you see my life go to hell in a matter of seconds? Did you ever see my girls, EVER? Then how do you know what happened to me? Has it ever happened to you? I didn't think so. Now let me help you understand that paper a little bit better. (Beat) I had everything anyone could ever want: a loving husband, a beautiful house and wonderful children. I had my two little twins, Maggie and Betty; they could brighten up the worst days. (Beat) Then came the fire. It all happened so fast, it seems like a dream. I wish it were a dream. Then I wouldn't have this pain of letting them go and realizing that they are gone forever because of me! I found the girls upstairs playing with a box of matches, I took the matches and hid them. I know I did. But I must have missed one. We all went down for naps, and I actually fell asleep, which is weird because I never sleep during the day. I woke up to my oldest daughter, Susan, screaming and crying. I opened my eyes to see that her blonde hair was black! "What happened?" I asked suddenly alert. "My bed is on fire!" She screamed. I leapt out of bed and ran to the phone. "George! This is your sister, Sarah, get over here right now, my house is on fire and I think Maggie and Betty are trapped upstairs." I hung up the phone and ran for the stairs. On my way up the stairs collapsed and I fell, breaking my arm. I kept trying to get out of there and up to my babies, but I couldn't get out with only one good arm. Then George appeared and pulled me up. Then he dashed up the stairs after the girls, but he didn't get much further than I did before the stairs gave way on him as well. He broke both his ankles. I could here the girls screaming and crying. It broke my heart, but now I realize that was music to my ears compared to what I heard next.silence. When they stopped crying I.I knew.the fire had got them. I was ecstatically depressed. I started screaming like I was crazy. I screamed their names, begging them to start crying again, anything to let me know they were alive, (pause) but I never heard them cry again. Now, am I crazy Doctor? What is crazy? Define crazy. Is crazy loosing your children in a fire you could have prevented just by checking their pockets and the floor for that one little match you missed, or by explaining a little bit more about how dangerous it is to play with fire? Is that crazy? No, I'm not crazy, but do you know what is? They found the bodies of my innocent babies behind the furnace. The furnace! I didn't even think that a rat could fit behind that furnace, but they were there, huddled together with their arm wrapped around each other, trying to protect each other form the flames. WHY THEM? WHY NOT ME? They weren't even three years old yet! I am old! I've lived a long enough life! Why did God take away two children if he loves them so much? I know what you're thinking now. You think I'm crazy, but what is crazy? Where is crazy? When is crazy? Why do you think you can tell people they are crazy? How do you define crazy? Who is crazy, Doctor? Me.or you? Not me, Doctor, it must be you.
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