Vanessa Arrha De Leon

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~ WHITE ROOMS ~

A paved white bridge sloping upward with a small room constituting its entrance, the end of the
bridge however disappears into complete darkness.

Yvan: (peering into the direction of the bridge, squinting his eyes) I can’t see anything beyond that
dark smoke or fog or air... whatever that is. Funny though... (looks at Serge and then Marc), are we
all having the same dream?

Serge: It’s quite possible Yvan. You know now that science has already progressed quite a great deal
these days, educated doctors all over the world are saying a lot of things about the endless
possibilities of the human mind. Mr. Lorell, this psychologist, friend of mine actually who I met
through one of those small gatherings at the Elysium Towers says that our minds and its science is
not only about how we humans think but also about we have our own powers of the mind and that
these powers can stretched beyond the ordinary thinking process to things such as human
unconsciousness which they are saying to our dreams even!

Marc: (to Serge) What the hell do you know about science Serge? And what does science even have
to do with any of this? (to Yvan) Of course we are having the same dream! How else would you
explain us communicating with each other like this? You don’t need any of that Mr. Lorell-crap to
figure that out!

Serge: (sharply) Well Marc, I do read quite a lot you know, not only those classical novels (which I
might say you are so heavily addicted to) but even high-class journalism and published scientific
studies,, something which you don’t do of course because of your over-reaching knowledge and
your completely sensible... (???) common sense!

Marc: Ha! So are you saying you’re more qualified than anyone else here in this room just because
you read. Just because you’re hailed by the scientific crowd as one of them does not necessarily
qualify you to talk about the inner workings of science with the public, not when these men which
you talk about, Dr. Lorell-for example has spent substantial amount of gold to learn the same thing
and more. And yet! Here you are prancing around proudly, repeating knowledge which you

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probably have heard from some drunken scientific-man’s rants in some forgotten Elysium Towers-
gathering.

Yvan: (to himself, rolling his eyes) Here we go again... (To the two) Marc! Serge! Stop this nonsense!
Are you seriously going to waste your time fighting while in a spectacular event such as this?! We
are all having the same dream, the same dream both of you! Imagine! Imagine how this could have
happened!

Marc: It would be better for you, Yvan, I think, to resign yourself to this experience and enjoy it and
not act like some English greyhound, trying to find clues and explain how everything came to be.
Because you actually won’t be able to, as I suspect of our-scientific-slash-our-art(with emphasis)-
man here. (looks at Serge)

Serge: (looks down because embarrassed by the searching look of the two) Uh... well... (scratches
his head)

Marc wolfishly smiles in satisfaction while Serge flashes him a scathing look. Yvan, on the other
hand, tries again to peer at the empty, inky darkness at the end of the bridge.

Yvan: (throwing a glance back at the other two) So where exactly are we? I can’t remember ever
going to this place; I can’t even recall if there even was such a place as this...

Marc and Serge both shrugs, unable to answer Yvan’s question.

Yvan: Hmm... Perhaps if we go through the bridge, we can find out more. Don’t you agree?

Marc: (looking at the ceiling and the white walls of the area unable to detect any way in our out)
Perhaps since that’s the only open way out of this area...

Yvan: Well... (takes a hesitant first step on the bridge and suddenly bursts out in a cry) Auuhhh! I’m
hideous!!

Serge & Marc scrambles towards Yvan but stopped, surprised by a loud crash which boomed from
the room’s invisible opening into which a tall, slim woman with short black curly hair and brightly
painted red lips emerged.

Estelle: (Taking a sweeping glance of the room and settling her eyes on the two men smiled
innocently and spoke in a hurried manner) I’ve been searching for quite a long time now! All the
other rooms were filled to the brim with filthy women and men! I’ve shortly begun to lose hope, but

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I feel that right now my luck has changed all for the better! Not just one but two! And even one who
will tread! Surely I am in luck!

Serge: (immediately going to the woman’s side and offering his right arm to which the woman
delightedly clung to) May I ask, fair woman? Where is this place we have stumbled into, this
dreamland?

Estelle: Your address is nice, but please call me Estelle, I would like that so much better!

Serge: Then Estelle (flashing her one of those so-called arresting smile he was told he had), where is
this place we have stumble------

Yvan: (walking briskly from the bridge, sobbing uncontrollably) I’m hideous! What happened to
me? Where is Catherine? What is this dream?

Marc: (walking over to Yvan) Stop crying, Yvan! This is only a dream alright!!? Nothing can happen
to you here!

Yvan: Oh Marc, but I had already taken several steps into the bridge when I saw my reflection in the
darkness... My face! Where my eyes were, lay empty sockets with blood oozing from out of them!
My nose was crushed exaggeratedly flat! And my lips, looked like overcooked vegetable!!! (starts to
sob again) I want to wake up now! Now! Now!

Estelle: (giggling, looking from one man to another) A dream? Surely you lot do not think that this
place is a dream.

Yvan: What!? Why?!

Estelle: (ominously) This my friends is not a dream but a part of reality you face after death.

Serge: Dead! But we are not dead! This is all just a dream!

Estelle: Believe what you want to. As far as I know, you’re all dead men who had forgotten how they
died!

Serge: (turns to Marc and Yvan, his voice growing hysterical as he backed up to lean on one of the
corners of the room) You can’t be dead and I can’t be dead! I was just signing an important
document with Mr. Lorell that would have guaranteed a big commission for me or a partner
position at the least!

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Marc: (to Estelle) Who are you anyway lady? Are you one of God’s angels or are you a demon just
waiting around to feed on our souls?

Estelle: I am neither. I myself have died ages ago, the time of which I do not remember anymore. I
am only here to seek someone’s solace, because those who were partnered with me could not give
me the satisfaction I want.

Marc: You’re dead so what kind of solace are you looking for here? Surely, it would be better to rely
upon the people whom you’ve left behind through their prayers and rituals rather than ask it from
strangers like us.

Estelle: No!! Peter won’t and Olga and my sister won’t! They cry crocodile tears. Even though they
say they love me, they were happy nonetheless in the way the things turned out.

Marc: Well if no one would cry for you, that’s very well your fault, isn’t it? Maybe you’ve been a tad
bit naughty down there hence why your friends and lovers resent you.

Serge: (standing up from his crouching position) I still can’t believe myself dead. Surely this must
not be what God had planned out for me. I’ve been a just and honest person all my life, guilty only of
a few transgressions which I know would be easy enough to overlook if given the chance.

Estelle: (ignoring Marc now, to Serge) I know and I see how good a person you are. If you would
only permit me, I would love to stay by your side until your judgment comes and make things a
little bit bearable for both us until then.

Serge: If that’s what you want Estelle. Surely there’d be no harm in entertaining someone like you
among us. My name’s Serge by the way, that unpleasant bloke there is Marc and the crying buffoon
is Yvan.

Estelle: (going to Serge and clinging on his arm) Oh thank you Serge! You would not believe how
you’ve made me so happy because of this. My two roommates back from where I came from were
so unpleasant. They ridiculed me and told me that I had blotches on my face, that I had crusted
areas on my eyebrow and that my cheeks had grown wrinkly and pudgy. I could not stand it! I told
them, ‘how could the two of you be so unpleasant?’, and they merely laughed me off, saying how I
should just take their comments as jokes and not be too overly serious about them which I can’t see
how I would you know because my beauty is such a huge part of me, and I can’t take the fact that

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they were making jokes upon a part of me I care so much about. That’s why the moment the door
opened again, I immediately came out to look for people who would appreciate me and my beauty.

Serge: Thank God you did not listen to them one bit dear Estelle! You are pretty, there is no doubt
about that. I myself have been the subject of ridicule often because people think I’m merely posing
when I say I love art and that I study science. A gentleman such as me should not be content with
the present. One has to ultimately change himself for the better to increase his value among the
people he knows and those he doesn’t.

Estelle: I agree with you. Why should one limit oneself to what one has? He or she should venture
out and take more of the world for both himself and herself if he knows that he is deserving of it.
But enough of that if you please Serge, I’m still so insecure about myself! Please re-assure me again.
Are you sure there are no blotches or crusty or pudgy skin?

Serge: I can’t see how there could ever be blotches, crusty or pudgy areas in a skin such as yours as
fair as alabaster and as smooth as handcrafted Chinese porcelain. Your lips, if I was not a man of
amazing control and righteousness, would have tempted me ages ago to take and taste.

Estelle childishly giggles in bliss and clings more tightly to Serge.

Marc: (to Yvan) So have you stopped crying now Yvan? Realized your foolishness, have you? Now
stand up, stand up and take this like a man. So we’re dead after all! Nothing can change that. Instead
we should determine where we are and see where we’re going to.

Yvan: Why am I dead, Marc? Do you remember?

Marc: I do not know Yvan. I cannot even remember why I am here. Anyway, what did you see upon
that bridge aside from the hideousness you so zealously described?

Yvan: I saw white rooms Marc. Just like ours. Floating in the river, also strangely enough connected
to the bridge just like ours.

Marc: White rooms, huh? Where possibly could we be?

Yvan: (to Estelle) Estelle, you said something about judgment. Is this where we are, a judgment
room?

Estelle: Yes.

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Yvan: Who will come to judge us? Do you know?

Estelle: Your loved ones will judge you.

Yvan: My loved ones? How can that be? You said you died ages ago Estelle. Have you been judged
already?

Estelle: (color draining out of her face as she bit her lip) Yes Yvan! And I was judged to be lacking,
unworthy to cross that cursed bridge, the only way out of this misery!

Yvan: The bridge is the test then. If I may, why were you judged as such Estelle?

Estelle: (letting go of Serge, falling to her knees and crying) I do not know! I can’t remember Yvan!
Do not ask me anymore.

Yvan walks towards Estelle and embraces her stiff figure. After a few seconds, she relaxes and she
buries her head into the crook of his neck.

Marc: (After Estelle’s sobs have subsided) So all we have to do to be judged is to walk onto this
bridge?

Yvan: (letting go of Estelle who tried to resist at first but after a pat on the back by Yvan, let go
completely) Yes. So shall we go?

Marc: (gesturing to Serge) Yes.

Yvan, Marc and Serge positions themselves side by side at the entrance of the bridge.

Yvan: (taking a look back at Estelle) How will we know if we are judged to be – lacking?

Estelle: (wiping her face with the back of her sleeves) You will know.

The three started into the darkness together. Their hands finding each others for comfort as they
walked side by side, knowing fully that there was a chance that the three of them may not come out
of this darkness together.

-----

Voices which Yvan hears.

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Yvan’s mother: (sobbing) Please Lord. I ask that you guide his soul into your Kingdom. He is my
only son. Aside from those minor faults of his, I know that he has tried to be a good man overall. So
please Lord, I implore you, do not let him go astray.

Catherine: Yvan, I hope you are happy wherever you are. You were a good husband and a good man.

----

Voices which Marc and Serge hears...

Paula: I love you Marc. It’s unfair Marc to see you off like this when all you’ve ever tried to do is to
be a good man and friend. I know you’re not the best man out there but I also know that despite the
fact that you were possessive of me and your friends, it is all rooted in a deep love and concern and
need which you have for all of us. However, they could not understand you. At least Serge didn’t.
Your bastard friend decides to screw you over. A few late payments on your loans and he decides to
call the police on you. What kind of friend is that? It’s unfair to say this and I’m so very sorry but I
hope he rots in hell.

----

Back at the white room, Serge is sweating profusely with a mad look in his eyes.

Serge: (pointing to Estelle who was still on her knees) You knew! You knew that this would
happen!? Why didn’t you warn me?

Estelle: Because I told you I needed someone.

Valet: (enters the room quietly, now through a mahogany door painted white on the west side of
the white room) I see the judgment has ended. Well then, let me show you to your quarters sir...

END

Questions:

1. Why was Serge and Estelle’s conversation on pp. 4-5 still a monologue?
Monologue happens when we do not care for the person with which we are conversing with, the
point of conversation being only ourselves. When we despite, our conversations with someone, do
not aim to venture out of our self and instead continually re-asserts our needs, our beliefs, to make
sure that our own particularly ideas of ourselves is made known, set and thus affirmed. Serge and

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 Estelle’s conversation is a monologue because despite the fact that Serge is re-assuring Estelle of her
beauty, Serge is also along the way using Estelle’s agreeableness to establish and thus affirm his ideas
or images of himself.
2. Why was Yvan and Estelle’s conversation on pp. 6 a dialogue?
A genuine dialogue is primarily allowing a person to reveal or disclose himself to you. It is becoming
aware of the person in front of you. Yvan and Estelle’s conversation was a genuine dialogue because
Yvan acknowledged the true person behind Estelle. He did not meet Estelle halfway, that is he did not
judge Estelle merely by her primary value such as her beauty. Instead he allowed Estelle to see that
beauty is not the only thing important in her, instead there is something deeper to be discovered
beneath her exterior. This dialogue is also completed by Yvan’s embrace of Estelle in which he did
not judge Estelle’s revelation that she was judged to be lacking.
3. What truth about himself did Marc discover? And how did he come upon this truth?
Marc found out that his aggressive and possessive characteristics were merely the consequences of
his own desperate need to be loved and needed by his lover and his friends. He came upon this truth
when he decided to walk along the bridge, to receive his judgment by his loved ones particularly by
Paula, giving him this truth which she herself has kept from him while he was still alive.

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