Guarded Girls

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The stories and experiences of three imprisoned women and a guard intertwine in dramatic and dangerous ways, as the psychological destruction that is solitary confinement taunts each of their lives.

Nineteen-year-old Sid is transferred to a new prison, finding friendship with her cellmate Brit, but she also forms a complicated relationship with a guard who seems to be watching their every move. In another time, an older inmate named Kit talks to an unseen audience about a coming visitor and how she’ll stop at nothing to see them, even if that means bringing down the entire prison system. In another place, three girls wait as visitors, each one thinking about the complicated positions their mothers are in.

Playful and mysterious, Guarded Girls is about the stories we tell to survive, and how the same stories can also destroy us.

AUTHOR

Charlotte Corbeil-Coleman

Charlotte Corbeil-Coleman is a multiple-award-winning playwright. She graduated from the playwriting program at the National Theatre School of Canada and has gone on to write for theatre, radio, film, and television. Selected writing credits include The End of Pretending; Scratch, which was nominated for a Dora Mavor Moore Award and a Governor General’s Literary Award; and CBC Radio’s Afghanada. Most recently she has been working on three feature films. Charlotte lives in Toronto.

Reviews

“Charlotte Corbeil-Coleman is an intriguing playwright, and perhaps her greatest gift is unpredictability.”

“ . . . the piece builds spectacularly, touching on issues of trauma and the cycle of violence without any gratuitous content and without exploiting the women Corbeil-Coleman listened to so carefully in preparation.”

“Corbeil-Coleman is an extremely talented writer; her dialogue sparkles, and her characters feel well-rounded and human.”

“Corbeil-Coleman’s dialogue is quick, cutting, and refreshingly funny even as her play is pitch black.”

“The whole play might seem disorienting, but the story is worth the ride.”

“Artful and disturbing.”

Awards

Governor General’s Literary Award 2020, Nominated

Dora Mavor Moore Award for Outstanding New Play 2019, Winner

Brit: Did you think it would be like TV?

Sid: Here?

Brit: Yeah.

Sid: I don’t remember.

Silence.

The Guard comes in and begins her search. Sid sees her and stands up.

Hi.

Guard: What are you after?

Sid: Nothing, just a hello.

The Guard laughs, yeah right.

Guard: Okay.

Sid laughs, imitating the Guard.

The Guard shakes her head.

Sid shakes her head.

That’s enough.

Guard moves away.

Sid speaks softly to herself:

Sid: What are you after?

Sid walks the length of her pod imitating the exact same walk as the Guard. The Guard sees something hidden somewhere on the stage. A tampon. She bags it and exits.

Brit: I need more tampooooooons.

Sid: I know.

Silence.

Brit: It’s really making me panic.

Sid: You got an extra pad?

Brit: No. And I really can’t handle not having another tampon right now. Like, it’s really making me—

Sid: Hey, it’s okay—

Brit: No. Like, I’ve been wearing it for like ten hours and I really can’t handle not having another tampon—

Sid: I’ll try and get you another one.

Brit: I’m really—

Sid: I know.

Silence.

Brit: Really, I can’t handle this.

Sid: I’m going to try, on the next round.

Brit: ’Cause I’m picturing it and—

Sid: Shhh. It’s okay—

Brit: I can’t—I can’t—

Sid changes.

Sid: I hate jam. It’s gooey and stupid.

Brit takes a deep breath and tries to listen.

But now, I miss jam. I miss having the option; I mean every morning I think about jam—how . . . stupid is that?—

Brit: I really need a new tampon. I can’t stop picturing—

Sid: I know.

Brit starts moaning.

Fucking hell. Hello. We need a tampon. Hello!

Sid sees the Guard.

She needs another tampon. Yes. She does—

Guard: You think this is a hotel?

Sid: Please.

Guard: You think you can make demands?

Sid: She needs it.

Guard: Don’t talk / back—

Sid: I’m not talking back. She needs another tampon. Please—

Guard: In what world is this / my problem?

Sid: Why are you being an asshole?

Guard: Careful.

Sid: Fuck you.

The Guard grabs her.

Fuck. Ouch. You’re hurting me now. No. No. No. Don’t! Just give her.

Sid spits in the Guard’s face.

Brit: No!

The Guard takes Sid away. Brit sits alone. Time passes; she waits. Brit closes her eyes. The Guard begins her search, and finds a calculator hidden somewhere on the stage. She bags it, but then sees something else, a soother. She bags it as well and exits.

A fragile Sid comes back into the pod and sits. Brit opens her eyes and listens.