This is not a Love Story
Title: This is not a Love Story
Author: Rosie/turnthedarkness
Rating: PG, possibly up to PG-13
Warnings: Apocalypse setting, including character death
Summary: The fires are coming.
A short play.
This Is Not A Love Story
Anna Leigh
Thomas Mills
An unspecified point in the not-too-distant future. A rooftop on the outskirts of London.
Blackness. A crackling sound, starting low. As it becomes louder and louder, we understand that it is the sound of flames, slowly approaching.
Suddenly, the lights come up, and the stage is lit by an orange glow. A young woman, ANNA, stands at the front, centre stage, staring down. For a moment, we think she intends to jump, before we see that this was never what she meant to do. She is staring at a fixed point in the distance, watching the flames. There is a look of shock on her face, but also one of resignation. She knows that she will die, most likely in an hour or less.
After a few moments, she sighs, and turns to sit over the edge of the rooftop, her legs dangling. There’s something compelling about the sound of the flames that forces her to revert her gaze to them, no matter how hard she tries to turn away.
A door slams, and moments later, THOMAS runs onto the stage, stopping when he sees ANNA. She turns around and laughs at the almost-comical horrified expression on his face as he too sees the flames. But there’s something more there, a genuine fear, and we don’t laugh.
ANNA
It’s funny, isn’t it? You see it on television all the time, knowing it’s coming at some point. Then you see it for real and you can’t believe it.
THOMAS
What?
ANNA
It doesn’t seem quite real yet, does it?
THOMAS
Right.
ANNA
Here, come and sit down.
She pats the ledge beside him and he does so, still slightly in a haze.
ANNA
What’s your name? I’m sure I’ve seen you around before.
THOMAS
Thomas. I’m in 3A. You’re Anna, 5D, right?
ANNA
How did you know?
THOMAS
I dated Claire. Maybe not the right word. We went out once. It was a disaster. Anyway, she mentioned you somewhere along the line, and I saw you when we got back to the flat. Just thought I knew your face from somewhere just now, and guessed it was you.
ANNA
Oh, right.
THOMAS
Where is she now? Claire?
ANNA
She went home. Wanted to be with her family. Don’t blame her really.
THOMAS
Why haven’t you - ?
ANNA
- Gone home? I don’t know. The thought never really occurred to me until Claire did it. By then I guess it was too late.
THOMAS
Oh.
Both turn to look again at the fire, staring in silence for a few moments.
ANNA
Did you see the broadcast earlier today?
THOMAS
The one with the whole of the city burning down? Yeah, I saw it. Like you said, it doesn’t feel real until you’re seeing it with your own eyes, not through a camera lens. Until then, it’s just a dream, a hallucination, a low-budget disaster movie.
ANNA (almost trance-like)
And it’s only when you feel the heat that you really know it’s coming.
THOMAS
Like I said, a bad disaster movie. Everything you know falling to ashes. The London Eye. The Millennium Dome. Waterloo Station. Even the bloody Oxo Tower. All the landmarks, the places you know from the postcards - and they’re just gone without a second thought. Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. Just like Guy Fawkes. He’s probably laughing at us all right now.
ANNA
You think?
THOMAS
Yeah, I think so.
She laughs a little. It’s genuine, but also tentative.
ANNA
How long do you think we have?
THOMAS
Is that if we stay here, or if we run?
ANNA
Run? Where is there to run to? We won’t be saving our lives, only prolonging our deaths. If we stay. I’m going to stay.
THOMAS
Are you sure? We’ve probably got another half an hour at the rate it seems to be moving right now. We could double that at least, I reckon, if we started now.
ANNA
It’s too late! I’ve made up my mind.
THOMAS
Half an hour, and we will burn, we will burn together.
ANNA
Sorry?
THOMAS
The Crucible. Arthur Miller. You’ve never seen it?
“A fire, a fire is burning! I hear the boot of Lucifer, I see his filthy face! And it is my face, and yours, Danforth! For them that quail to bring men out of ignorance, as I have quailed, and as you quail now when you know in all your black hearts that this be fraud - God damns our kind especially, and we will burn, we will burn together!”
We did that during school, years ago now.
ANNA
Who did you play - not that I’d know, of course.
THOMAS
Hale. It was good, I think. At least, as good as school productions ever got.
ANNA
Oh, I don’t know, my sister was in some pretty good ones back in her day. I was always dragged along with my parents to see them. There was a time when she even considered acting as a career after her triumph as Angela in Blue Remembered Hills.
THOMAS
What does she do now?
ANNA
She’s an accountant.
Both laugh again, and this time it’s brighter, the impending events forgotten in the midst of such a normal conversation over childhood memories.
THOMAS
Does she like it?
ANNA
She does it for the money, I think. She doesn’t hate it, but I know she’d rather be doing something else if she could. I mean, when I was younger, I wanted to be a zookeeper, be with all the animals. Or a cat.
THOMAS
Oooh, cat college is very expensive!
ANNA
Probably why my parents told me I couldn’t be one, then! Anyway, I still wish I’d gone into something with animals. Not that being a nurse doesn’t have its rewards, but I still don’t feel fulfilled. Guess now’s not the time to dwell on something like that, though.
Their eyes turn back to the fire, a discomfort falling between them as they remember where they are.
ANNA (in a slightly awkward attempt to break the silence)
What about you? What did you want to be?
THOMAS
A fireman, mainly. But I think an astronaut was pretty close as well.
ANNA
And now you are?
THOMAS
An electrician. Guess I’m with you in saying that I feel unfulfilled.
ANNA
Oh, so yours is the van outside! Mills Electrics, right?
THOMAS
Yeah, that’s right. Not that it’s really useful at a time like this.
ANNA
Guess not.
A pause. ANNA lays her head on THOMAS’ shoulder, somewhat subconsciously.
ANNA
Tom?
THOMAS
Yeah?
ANNA
Are you scared?
THOMAS
Of what?
ANNA
The fire. The heat. Dying.
THOMAS
Are you?
ANNA
Yeah.
THOMAS
Me too.
She reaches over and takes THOMAS’ hand. Their fingers lock, a little too tight.
ANNA
Don’t you regret anything?
THOMAS
What do you mean?
ANNA
I’m in my twenties. I’m stuck in a dead-end nursing job that doesn’t satisfy me. I’m single. I’m living in a cheap block of flats in the city with a friend. I’m supposed to have my whole life ahead of me and instead I’m going to die on a rooftop of an awful block of flats in the middle of London. I’m supposed to get married, have children, be a family, and then grow old with my husband and die when I’m a hundred, wrapped in his arms of old age or whatever. I have done nothing with my life and every chance I could have had is drowning in flames and there’s nothing, nothing -
She breaks down in tears, mumbling into THOMAS’ shoulder as he takes her in his arms and holds her.
THOMAS
I know, I know. It’s too soon right?
ANNA
Yeah.
THOMAS
I know how you feel. Useless. Hopeless. Like you’ve failed somehow.
ANNA
Right.
THOMAS
Yeah, I feel it too.
ANNA
We must have, what, fifteen minutes? It still just doesn’t seem real, does it?
THOMAS
Even watching the broadcast earlier. You witness all these places you know sink down into the fires, and you don’t stop to think about the people who have been caught up in the blaze. And something tells you you shouldn’t look, that you should turn your gaze but you can’t. You saw it, Downing Street -
ANNA
Trying to block out the fact that it’s real. It’s human and it’s real and it’s happening and we’re powerless. We don’t like feeling powerless. It’s in our nature.
THOMAS
What do you think they did? Everyone? Cry? Scream? Hold each other? Reach for one last kiss, take a last breath against each other’s lips? Or did they just stare into the nothingness of their own existence?
ANNA
A breathless, blinkless bundle of seconds...
THOMAS (with a short, sarcastic laugh)
Sorry - probably being too morbid here.
ANNA
Doesn’t matter.
They fall silent again, ANNA’s head once more on THOMAS’ shoulder. Somewhere, faintly, we hear soft humming. It takes a moment to build, to rise like a phoenix from the ash, and as it becomes clearer, we realise it is the classic rhyme “London’s Burning” and that THOMAS is humming it under his breath. As he reaches the end, he starts again, and this time ANNA picks up, starting her own at his second line. All we hear is their gentle tunes and the ever-approaching fires. It’s eerie, it’s haunting. It’s also starkly beautiful.
As they draw to a close, and ANNA exhales the last line, they share a look. Is it romantic, we wonder? No. It’s understanding. A friendship formed in a time of adversity. A card house, relying on each other to keep their worlds from crumbling into embers. Because this is real. They might have heard about it on the news. They’ve seen the broadcasts. They’ve even sat here and spoken about it as they’ve kept half an eye on the flames as they approach. But the realisation has crashed over them like a tidal wave in that moment. This isn’t the stuff of nursery rhymes or children’s tales or bad disaster movies. This is real.
They’re both going to die.
And they’re both completely helpless.
It’s the worst feeling a human can have; powerlessness. As a race, the last thing we want to feel is that we have no control. Because we want to know that everything is in our hands. Right from the smallest decisions - what clothes to wear, how to do our hair, what food to eat - right up to our own deaths. We want to have the choice in what happens, and it’s only once all the options are removed that we are left with helplessness that overwhelms us. It’s in our nature, the desire for control, and both of them have now understood that, as far as their knowledge of the situation is, that they have no choice. They are at the weakest, most vulnerable part of their existence, and it’s not frightening, or terrifying. It’s like their very hearts have turned to ice, like their precious cup of life has been knocked from their hands and crushed into a million-faceted fragments at their feet as they could only stand by and watch, borderlining on catatonia. It’s all-consuming numbness.
And somehow, that feels worse.
THOMAS
Are you okay?
ANNA
I don’t know. It’s hard to feel. I’m scared, most of all. I want someone to hold me in their arms, tell me I’m okay. I want to be with my family back home. I miss them. I want to see their faces just one more time. I envy Claire right now. She got that chance, and I didn’t.
THOMAS
Why don’t you call them?
ANNA
I haven’t got my phone.
THOMAS
Here, use mine.
He takes an old mobile phone from his pocket and offers it to ANNA, who eyes it for a moment.
ANNA
Are you sure?
THOMAS
Do it, if you think it will make you feel better.
ANNA
But I don’t know if it will.
THOMAS
Enter the number. See how you feel.
It’s slowly that ANNA reaches for the phone, takes it, and dials the number, her hands shaking.
THOMAS
What do you think?
ANNA doesn’t respond. Instead, she presses the call button and lifts the phone to her ear. THOMAS places a hand on her shoulder, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
During the call, ANNA starts of calm - almost cheerful, though we realise it’s a facade immediately. There’s something nervous in her voice, something forced in her smile, and she knows it too. The last chance to hear her mother speak causes her to break, like a chip in a windscreen forcibly cracking against the icy weather.
ANNA
Hey, mum? It’s me. How are you? Yes, I’m okay. Listen, mum. I don’t have long left. You must have seen the broadcast earlier. They’re coming. The fires are spreading and it won’t be long before they reach me where I am.
Look, mum, I just wanted to call and say thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve given me, all you’ve done for me. You made me the best person I possibly could become, and you stuck by me no matter what, and I can’t tell you just how much that means to me.
I’m sorry for all the times I hurt you, for everything I put you through. I can honestly say that any fights we had, any disagreements I caused - I know those were my fault, and now I regret them all and I’m so, so sorry. And I wish I could have told you this in person, not over the phone. I wanted to come home, and if there’s anyone I would spend my last minutes with, it would be you, and dad, and Jessica. Please, please, please forgive me.
But I want you to promise me something, mum. I want you to keep fighting. I want you to stay alive for as long as you possibly can. The fires will come soon, I know they will, and I want you to stay strong. All of you. Please? Promise me you will, please.
Remember, while you can, that I love you. You, and dad, and Jess. I love you and I always will. You were my life raft in the middle of the ocean, just when I felt like I could drown. The rock to cling to amongst the tide. I love you. Tell them for me, please? I love them, and I always have done, and I always will. The love I have for you doesn’t end with my death, nor yours, because we’re eternal. In my last moments, I give you my heart. I love you with everything I have.
The flames are coming. Oh God, mum, I’m so scared -
A beep. The only sound we hear is ANNA’s tears and the distant terror of the flames.
ANNA
The phone cut off. It cut off and I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.
THOMAS holds her, one arm around her shoulders, the other reaching into his pocket. He withdraws something, wrapped in a cloth.
THOMAS
Hey, it’s okay. Here, I’ve got an idea. Look.
He unfolds the cloth with his free hand, and withdraws a small gun. ANNA studies it, wide-eyed.
THOMAS
You see, we could beat the flames. Shoot ourselves before they get to us, make it quick and easy. What do you think?
ANNA
Are you serious?
THOMAS
Of course I am! We can conquer this, Anna. I mean it. I’ve been thinking about it. Either way, we die. The choice we have is to make it easy, quick, probably painless and do it by our own hands, or we let the flames choke us or burn us to death.
ANNA stares at him directly in the eye, then swallows, nodding her head.
ANNA
I’m in.
THOMAS smiles, and releases the safety catch on the gun.
ANNA
How many bullets have you got?
THOMAS (face falling)
Just one. You can take it.
ANNA
No, Tom, this was your idea! Please, take it.
THOMAS
Anna -
ANNA
Go on, please, we have two minutes, if that. There’s no point in arguing about this. You take it. I’m fine, I promise.
They stand facing each other, a silent understanding between them. THOMAS takes the gun, aiming it at his own head, finger on the trigger. ANNA takes a deep breath. It’s her last.
For, as THOMAS pulls the trigger, he quickly turns the gun and the shot fires through ANNA’s heart. She falls, instantly dead. Safe.
THOMAS runs over to her, lifts her into his arms and kisses her forehead. There’s nothing romantic in the gesture, but a search for comfort and a shared understanding between two people who have witnessed the end of everything as they know it.
The orange light grows brighter, the sound of fire becoming ever louder and building in a crescendo to reach a climax, where THOMAS is isolated, alone in a spotlight except for ANNA’s body, which he holds to his chest, crying. At the highest point, he looks up, and the next moment, all falls silent, and everything is thrown into the terrifying uncertainty of darkness. In that instant, where we stop to catch our breath, we know that THOMAS has allowed both himself and ANNA to be taken over by the flames, and all turns to ash.