Radio Drama reel
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishAccents
British (England - Cockney, Estuary, East End) British (England - Liverpool, Manchester, Lancashire, Cheshire) British (General) British (Received Pronunciation - RP, BBC)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
I know it's not a big deal. Sex isn't a ******* big deal. I'm not embarrassed. It's not like I couldn't if I wanted to. There's just being known I've wanted to with So why would I do it? What's the point? I'm not missing out on something huge. Oh, it's just It's just like just because I've never actually done it I'm an idiot or immature or unattractive or a freak or apparently a ******* lesbian. Now I have had very little experience with cockroaches in my life, but the few that I've seen before have been the pedestrian cat, the kind that walk these Mrs Wire appeared to be flying cockroaches. I was shocked. In fact, I was literally stunned when one of them took off the floor and started to whiz through the air around around in a circle, just missing my face by merely a couple of inches. This is why I sat down on the edge of this bed and wept. I was just so shocked and disgusted. Imagine flying cockroaches, something I never dreamed to be in existence, whizzing around and around and around in front of my face. I've still got all his clothes. My sister keeps telling me to tell them away, but I can't. I think she thinks it's because I go into his room and stroke them or something. But it's not that. Oh God, it's It's stupid in love. I can't get rid of his clothes because I keep thinking he might need them when he comes back. I know, of course, that he's not coming back. It's just it's like there's some fathomless part of my brain that won't accept it. It doesn't seem to be processed properly. And then I look at his shoes and they're still, you know, moulded to the shape of his feet. And it just seems somehow wrong to throw that that last bit of him away because, well, because I'll never see his feet again. I'll tell you what. You can't bear Mr Self pity and **** artist. What you can't bear is that I am educated now. What's up, Frank? Don't you like me now? The little girl's grown up now that you can no longer bounce me on Daddy's knee and watch me stare back and wide eyed wonder at everything he asked to say. I'm educated. I've got what you haven't. You don't like it because you'd rather see me as the peasant I once was. You're like the rest of them. You like to keep your natives thick, because that way they still look charming and delightful. Well, I don't need you see, I met Jamie two months before my dad died to the exact day. It's not coming at one, just as the other was about to leave. And sometimes I think he was sent to me to, you know, to, like, help soften the blow of my dad. And then I think that's just mad because, you know, we met in a club when I was off my face on Cherry Sambuca. I'm surprised to even fancy me all I could hardly walk. The point is, though, it's come along at a good time. And sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am. Over. I remembered over three days and three nights in a lorry to get here. We were hidden in the back. All that time there were 12 of us and the baby. The mother had to put her hand over his mouth. Every time we stopped, there was a hole in the top for light. A hole in the floor for toilet. We paid £3000 to come to Dover. Everything that my father had left to us when the door opened on the third night we put up our hands. We thought we would be shot. The man said, Get out now and we did. Then he drove away. I did not know what country we were standing in till I saw the sign for Dover. Oh, yet for God's sake, go not to these wars at the time was father that you broke your word when you were more endured to it than now. When your own Percy when my heart's dear Harry through many a North would look to see his father burning up his powers that he did long in vain, who then persuaded you to stay at home? There were two honours lost yours and your son's for yours. The god of heaven. Brighten it for his. It's stuck upon him as the son in the grave vault of heaven and by his light, did all the chivalry of England moved to do brave acts. It was like suddenly I had two kids, not one Jake as well as Tom falling asleep on his meds. Middle of the day. Not talking there. Next minute, Having it all to say, awakened in the middle of the night, pissing the bed. They both did that only Tom never hit me when I tried to hold him like Jake did, or stared into my eyes, soaked with sweat, looking at something, countries away. Tom didn't have the last year of his life flashing like a trailer across his mind all day, or a habit of letting fags burned to his knuckles and blister his skin. He didn't have this look that said, I'll never let you in that he didn't have a father either. Or at least not the one who went away. They are Jake instead, a man who used to be his dad, but now just there, broken by war into a boy again.