Mum, I’m leaving…

Updated: Mar 3

Sam threw her keys on the table.

“I just can’t…”

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t stay.”

“What’s wrong? Is it your hormones again?”

“NO! It’s not my bloody hormones! Why does it always have to be my hormones?”

“Well, it’s just that, you know… after the last time.”

“Just drop it, drop it will you…”

“I’m trying to help.”

“Well, help someone else.”

“You’re my daughter, Sam.”

“And don’t I know it! No peace, no peace at all. Well anyway, I can’t do it any more. I’m leaving.”

“Where will you go? You haven’t got friends.”

“I have too! You wouldn’t know, because you never listen to me.”

“I listen.”

“No, you don’t. You listen to the radio, you listen to the TV, you listen to your sister... but never listen to me.”

“I do… only last week you were telling me about John.”

“It was Jerome! And that was four weeks ago. It’s all over now!”

“That’s it Jermone the bike courier right?”

“He’s a professional motorbike racer! An athlete! You’d know if you paid me any attention!”

“I’ll change. I’ll listen. We’ll have special listening times. You’ll get my whole attention. I don’t want you to go. Who will I talk to then? You haven’t thought about me in this big plan of yours have you.”

“You can ring your sister like you normally do. You spend half the day talking to her anyway. You probably won’t even notice I’ve gone.”

“Of course I’ll notice, who’ll bring me my morning tea?”

“Is that all I’m worth to you? A cup of tea in the morning? You’ll have to find some other mug ...for your tea. Stand on your own two feet from now on. Not rely on me.”

“Sam! Sam? What’s started all this? Something has upset you. I can tell I’m your mother.”


York Task: To write in 12 minutes a dialogue scene where a daughter Sam is telling her mum she's moving out.



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