DONNA LATHAM's plays have been produced coast to coast and around the world; they are licensed with Chicago Dramaworks, YouthPLAYS, Brooklyn Publishers, and Heure. Donna is a resident playwright at Rising Sun Performance Company in NYC and a proud member of the Dramatist Guild. Get the scoop at donnalatham.com
Thanks to Donna Latham for allowing NYCPlaywrights to publish this excerpt from her monologue SHE SAID.
Stop it. Just stop. Stop asking why I didn’t report my rape. I lived through the terror, the humiliation, the rage. I couldn’t face it again. Couldn’t hear them call me a slut. Claim I’m a nutjob. I couldn’t face more men. Evisceration in the dean’s office. At the police station. In court. In my boyfriend Paul’s arms... I couldn’t face Paul’s questions. Couldn’t bear the doubt in his eyes when I told him my rapist was his best buddy. That his frat brother screamed at me when I crossed onto his street.
“Must be jelly, cuz jam don’t shake. You a fine-ass woman, shawty. I would so do you.” I walked faster and faster to get away from him. “Smile! Hey, don’t look away. Smile, you stuck-up bitch.” That he yanked my hair and dragged me into his filthy house and—and— So I kept quiet. I covered the teeth marks with makeup. I parted my hair on the other side to hide the missing clump. I tried not to flinch when Paul slung his arm over my shoulder. Tried not to clamp my jaw like a trap when he kissed me... A few days ago, my rapist visited our apartment.Paul welcomed him with bro’d-out bellows. I gagged. I convulsed when my rapist winked knowingly, intimately. I dashed to the toilet to hurl up scorching bile. Sprawled on the floor like a squashed bug, I rested against cold tiles as the vein in my forehead pounded against them….. What happens when you speak out? He said/she said. Everyone thinks it all comes down to he said/she said. Right? Wrong. It has nothing to do with he said/she said. It’s all about what he said. It’s he said, “What was she thinking? Strutting down the street on Saturday night?”