Character: MIA

- Press the keypad and watch as the future is erased like the pages of the manuscript... - muttered MIA.

- It's time! On stage!
No... he just... he does not command me.
- But... he said.
- I know. I did.

- Well, I remember you. I admit, that evening I was harsh. Bit.
- Harsh?
- Was a jerk. And admit it...
- Clear
I can't ask to play is a serious musician too.
- Oh, my God. You just said "serious musician"?
- Was heard.
- Give your shirt?
Why?
I have auditioned for the role of a very serious fire.
- So actress. I do not remember where I saw you.
- Ah... In the "Coffeeteria" on "Warner Brothers". It's a classic.
- O. Okay. You're a Barista. You know, you look at me from his perch.

I was mad at the whole world. The cause of this anger I knew. I hated all of his doctors for their uselessness. I was something like a small lump samarasosexy anger, and none of them could do anything but to tell me that.

To let go. All speak about it as about the simplest things. Recogni your fingers one by one until your palm will not open. But my hand is clenched in a fist during the last three years, and now it is tightly closed. I'm all tightly closed. Going to close completely.

And that's not what I meant. I just feel... vulnerable. I don't know, the world seems so huge when you're in the middle of an open area. If there is no room for you, if you have no home.

But if nothing happens, you pick up the pieces?

You have to part, when I love a person, not when you love him crazy.

- You know I like you.
- Then why leave?
Because you're 15!
- What does it matter if you like someone?