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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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