Poets logo

Guilty

A Surrealist Play/Poem

By Megan KendallPublished 6 years ago 7 min read
Like

The Set consists of a chair. There is chalk writing on the walls and chalk on the .

Enter Lilly Fox, a 30-year-old new mother to a 3-month-old baby. Lilly looks tired and has been crying. She is in a quiet empty waiting room at a hospital. She is there waiting for her baby’s test results.

This is all in her head.

Lilly:

I know there is something wrong,

I can feel it,

She’s not well,

She won’t eat,

She’s all yellow,

Somebody help me please,

So many doctors,

But nothing is right,

They all don’t understand,

Needles, Needles so many needles

In her temples.

Swabs on her eyelids,

Scans under her ribs.

So many tests,

Yet they still don’t know,

My baby needs help,

They have to know,

They…they aren’t telling me,

What’s wrong with my baby?!

Doctor after Doctor,

But no diagnosis,

Please let this last doctor know this

I’ve heard so many different reasons,

Why my baby isn’t doing well,

But none of them are the truth.

None of them are the truth.

The truth is all I want,

But that’s not what I’m getting.

Here comes the doctor,

Okay here it comes,

My last try for some answers

Sinking into the chair opposite,

As the doctor sits,

Here it comes,

I’m sorry…

He says,

But we have a diagnosis.

I look at him in disbelief,

Finally, some answers,

Relief flowed through me,

If only briefly,

He says

It’s a condition

A rare one,

One that has no cure

Lucky, we found it early really.

Early!

You’ve got to be kidding me,

I’ve been through hell and you tell me lucky.

He’s given me a leaflet

And a bloody print out,

The way he’s going seems like he doesn’t know much about it.

Alpha 1 Antitrypsin Deficiency

Then he lists all the problems

That might come with this abnormality

Liver Disease,

Lung Disease

COPD.

Breathlessness

Wheezing

All because of me

The doctor explains how it works,

Using the leaflet as a guide,

He knows as much as I do

He tells me it’s genetic which means I’m the problem,

And so is my husband,

Crap we should have got tested

But okay we can do this,

We can figure it out,

But then the doctor tells me,

You need to tell your baby,

When she is older she needs to know,

Every single detail you can show

She can’t go out drinking with friends,

For it could damage her liver,

Her immune system is slow

So, watch out for that fever.

Now I know this,

He lets me go,

Then I just wander…

Wander…

The streets…

The streets are in slow motion

As it hits me,

These places are not safe for my baby

Smokers, exhausts pipes, fucking vapes

All this pollution,

Nowhere is safe.

Nowhere is safe.

Now

Standing in the middle of the street

My mind spinning

People shoving past me

Smoke blown in my face

I feel like I’m about to break

My baby

My poor little girl

3 months old

She has no clue

about the world she was born into

The world her mum and dad gave to her

And the pollution making it shorter

every breath she takes

My poor baby

Walking to the bus stop

My phone rings

It’s my husband

Hey

We have the answers

Our baby will be okay

I promise…

It’s all my fault

We did this to her

I did this to her

I know we didn’t know but still

We should had looked it up

It’s been such a long journey

But now we are here

What are we supposed to do now?

Our baby is sick

And there’s nothing we can do

Keep her away from smoke

Keep her away from alcohol

Keep her away from the fucking air

How?

What?

Where?

Moving away?

What?

We can’t afford it

Puts phone away

This place

These people

They all don’t understand

Look at them

All staring at me

They have no idea

No fucking idea

What I have just put my baby through

To find out the answers they gave me

Won’t even help me

I’m so scared

I can’t do anything

To help her

When she’s older

I hope she understands

We could only do what we can

How do I even tell her?

How should I phrase it?

How do I make it better?

It’s all my fault

I did this to her

My stupid genes

My husband’s stupid genes

All did this to her

My poor baby girl

I’m sorry

All those tests

All those needles

All those scans

All those tiny scars they have left on your pretty little hands

Oh, baby I’m so sorry

But you will be okay,

I will make sure of it

I will not let it get you

People are looking at me weirdly

Guilty

Guilty

Guilty

This word keeps playing in my head

It’s like the people around me are thinking it

Guilty

Guilty

Okay thank god, the bus is here

Guilty

Guilty

What if,

I start thinking about what if

What if I don’t get to see my baby

Thrive

Beating this condition with both feet

Both arms and

One heart

I know how it works,

I am ill to

Guilty!

No, I can’t think about that too

My baby is more important

Than me

She comes first

Screeching to a halt

I swing forward as the bus stops

Blue and yellow lights bolt forward

What if…

What if I see those lights outside

What if they are for my baby

No, no stop

I don’t want to think about it

But what if

No

Guilty!

At my stop

I get off

My phone buzzing

A text

Crap the mother in law

What does she have to say now

Reading the text out loud mimicking her mother in law

Lillian

Crap she used my full name

I have just been informed by my lovely son that my precious grandchild is sick.

This isn’t going to end,

Well for me is it,

WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?

What the fuck?

What do you mean what did I do?

If anything, technically it was you!

Lillian, this is all your fault. It was your family’s genes that made my poor little one sick.

My fault?

I know this is my fault

You don’t have to point it out!

And her little one? What did my husband tell her?

My boy has told me about this Alpha 1 anti-whatever and you did this! You did this to my grandchild!

Oh, if only you knew how genetics worked

Though you would still blame me,

Oh, I married into this family.

Lillian, you better bring my grandchild around once she is out of hospital. Goodbye.

Jeeez

My baby is still there,

Still in that life/death house.

I feel so numb,

She was probably right,

It is all my fault

Guilty

Guilty

Guilty

I wish I could see her

I wish I could take her home

I will soon I hope

This is so overwhelming

I don’t know if I can keep going

Guilty

No

Stay strong for your baby

Though I am crashing

The love for my baby is everlasting

That’s what has to pull me through

Even if I don’t know what to do

But what happens later

What happens in the future

Will she get better?

Their might be a cure

I hope so

If not in my years

Then hers

I hope I get to see her have children of her own

It’s weird to imagine

What will she be like when she’s older?

Oh. Gosh I’m so tired

keys to the door

Then dropping to the sofa

Drops to the chair

Slowly takes of jumper getting up off the chair.

Puts jumper on the back of the chair, moving the arms onto the seat.

Crouching in a comforting way.

Mum,

It’s going to be okay,

I don’t blame you,

It’s not your fault

I’m okay

performance poetry
Like

About the Creator

Megan Kendall

I am, a Watercolour enthusiast, Avid reader, Aspiring author/playwright, Current 2nd year undergrad studying applied drama and Cornish.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.