Wisconsin

MADISON is sitting with her legs crossed and a tapping a pen to a thick packet of paper. It taps louder and more violently until she throws down the pen and looks up. Her angered reaction quickly switches to embarrassment and then comfort.

MADISON

I... I'm so sorry. But ya know? People can be such shits.

She picks up the pen and runs her thumb along the impressed copyright.

MADISON

I mean, people have feelings, right? Not physical, I know if I punched a guy's butt he'd be in thorough pain... Or intrigued. Not the point. I'm talking emotions.
People feel things, they say they love something and they mean it?
Does that exist anymore?

You know what? I miss that.

MADISON uncrosses her legs and leans forward.

MADISON

And you know something else? I'm starting to care less and less. Everyday, I see it and I do nothing and it's become normal.

A beat.

MADISON

It's not normal.

She sits straighter.

MADISON

But who am I to complain? Really? I'm only part of the problem, and it can be a terrible way to think of yourself, but here's the best part. It's true.
It's true and I'm not denying shit.

But I was here. And that's all I can do. So all I can say is...
Remember me.
Remember me when you think about the sun and why it goes away, remember me when you think about faith and how I always said, "God isn't a being, it's a feeling."

She looks down. A Pause.

MADISON

Remember me when Mom says I never happened.
That I was a mistake.
Remember me when you're alone and no one can see what you're thinking, splayed across your pretty little goddamn face.
I'll be out of here. And I'm so sorry.

She looks up and as she speaks, she slowly stands.

MADISON

Love me. Love me more. Do it together. Say it out loud.
I'm so sorry.