WHILE YOU WERE AWAY – A play by the Fall 2015 Documentary Theatre Class (RCHUM 334)
Scene #10: “The Prisoner’s Notebook–Part I” written by Clarisza Runtung
I might as well be dead.
What good could come off after getting out of this prison, anyway? I will never get a job, my friends
will never talk to me, and I will be shammed by everyone. I am dead. Why can’t they just kill me?
Prisons are stupid. I will get out of this place and nothing would ever change, except for the looks in
people’s eyes when they see me. Might as well kill myself.
Don’t you pity me! Think of this through. Yes, I am guilty and should be punished, but shouldn’t the
entire purpose of this incarceration is to learn from my mistakes and investigate what’s wrong with
the society? Am I learning? No… Not so much. Other than that food could still taste like shit when
I’m hungry to the bone.
This is all so stupid. I might as well be dead.
I thought a lot about my dreams lately.
Do you know that I want to be a pilot? I want to fly all across the earth and laugh at the people under
me. “Hey, I can see you masturbating!” “Yo, don’t pee on that tree!” “Ew, that’s disgusting.” I didn’t
really have other reasons why I want to be a pilot. I just want to see the world from up above and
feel like I’m in control, you know? I imagine when I’m up in the sky that I don’t have to listen to
Wouldn’t that be fun?
Yesterday, I met with another inmate who told me about his son. His name is Christopher*. He said
that all he wanted was to buy his son some delicious dinner to eat, but then, he didn’t have the
money so he would have to steal, then all those shit went down and here he is. He said, he forgot
the last time he even had a dream to be… whatever. Let alone dreaming, he said, all he wants to do
is to make his son happy.
I am a piece of shit. Some people are here, yes, they commit crime, but they are doing it for
someone else they love. What am I here for? One drunken crazy night that we all want to remember
when we’re old? Yea right, I will remember this for my entire life. A pilot – my ass, laughing at other
people, my shit, now I’m the one being laughed at. Life is a huge irony.
Yesterday my father called me. His voice sounded different, it sounded sad. He started by asking
how am I and how were the people there and how was food. It sounded like I was in a vacation, you
See, that’s the weird part because it feels that way. Has he accepted the fact that I’m a prisoner
now, or is he crazy to the bone that he started to imagine that I’m still in the U.S?
Life’s weird – I don’t know what to do