This is the final sketch out of the four and is based on voice. We were given the task of writing from different perspectives. First, we had to think of a situation we had been in involving lots of people. I chose a time that was very stressful and upsetting for me and it involved all my housemates. We then had to write about that situation from another person's point of view and in the first person...if that made any sense! After that we had to write the same situation but in the second person (you). Lastly, we had to write it again from our perspective but in the third person, and I'll tell you now, it's weird writing your own name in a creative piece!
So this piece is expanded from the second person one. It is very off-putting writing in the second person for the first time, but also a little bit enjoyable. It's new and different. Tell me if you think it works/you like it. It's also a little bit bitchy (apologies) but it is how I really felt about this situation.
Your Housemate Hitler
You and your housemates have been called into a house meeting. You know you shouldn’t be there but one of your housemates has caused a fuss. She doesn’t like her room and you’re the one to blame. Yes, it doesn’t make sense but that’s life for you. She says that you and your boyfriend have the two biggest rooms and it’s not fair. You tell her you’ve measured the rooms and that yours isn’t the biggest, in fact, it’s only one foot bigger than hers. She doesn’t even have the smallest room. She sits in silence before saying it’s not about the room size. It’s about her condition. She says it’s too dark, she gets SAD, you know, Seasonal Affective Disorder, and she needs a big window, like your one, to get more sun.
Bullshit.
You stare at her across the table, finding it hard to believe what you’re hearing. Last week she was an insomniac, then she was depressed, and now she has SAD too? You say if she wants sunlight that badly she can go sit outside. She doesn’t take that well. She changes tact. She says she doesn’t mind her room at all, what she really hates is your unaccommodating attitude. She thinks you’ve been horrible to her all term; you haven’t met her emotional needs. You tell her it’s only one week into term; you’ve barely even seen her, so how could you have time to be horrible to her as well? Your hands shake from the injustice. You’ve never wanted to hit someone this badly before and you’re not even the aggressive type. There is an awkward silence when no one says anything. Then she comes out with the killer strike.
You are a dictator.
She says everyone thinks it too; they’re just too cowardly to say anything. You look at the rest of your housemates, the ones you thought were your friends; they look down at the floor. Your blood boils and the temptation to leap across the table and throttle your bitch of a housemate is just too strong. You didn’t realise that telling people to do their washing up was on par with Hitler committing mass genocide.
So this piece is expanded from the second person one. It is very off-putting writing in the second person for the first time, but also a little bit enjoyable. It's new and different. Tell me if you think it works/you like it. It's also a little bit bitchy (apologies) but it is how I really felt about this situation.
Your Housemate Hitler
You and your housemates have been called into a house meeting. You know you shouldn’t be there but one of your housemates has caused a fuss. She doesn’t like her room and you’re the one to blame. Yes, it doesn’t make sense but that’s life for you. She says that you and your boyfriend have the two biggest rooms and it’s not fair. You tell her you’ve measured the rooms and that yours isn’t the biggest, in fact, it’s only one foot bigger than hers. She doesn’t even have the smallest room. She sits in silence before saying it’s not about the room size. It’s about her condition. She says it’s too dark, she gets SAD, you know, Seasonal Affective Disorder, and she needs a big window, like your one, to get more sun.
Bullshit.
You stare at her across the table, finding it hard to believe what you’re hearing. Last week she was an insomniac, then she was depressed, and now she has SAD too? You say if she wants sunlight that badly she can go sit outside. She doesn’t take that well. She changes tact. She says she doesn’t mind her room at all, what she really hates is your unaccommodating attitude. She thinks you’ve been horrible to her all term; you haven’t met her emotional needs. You tell her it’s only one week into term; you’ve barely even seen her, so how could you have time to be horrible to her as well? Your hands shake from the injustice. You’ve never wanted to hit someone this badly before and you’re not even the aggressive type. There is an awkward silence when no one says anything. Then she comes out with the killer strike.
You are a dictator.
She says everyone thinks it too; they’re just too cowardly to say anything. You look at the rest of your housemates, the ones you thought were your friends; they look down at the floor. Your blood boils and the temptation to leap across the table and throttle your bitch of a housemate is just too strong. You didn’t realise that telling people to do their washing up was on par with Hitler committing mass genocide.
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