The plot of the play revolved around the sadness of one girl – a shadow, as I could now see, of what must be Pipa’s life behind her defenses. This observation did not bother me the first time I noticed it in the brevity of her stare, but as the weeks passed, I couldn’t deny seeing with clarity the two very contrasting colours of her character.
This contrast wasn’t black and white because white would have meant purity, and purity would not justify the gravity of her persona whenever she was around people she thought she knew.
If I were to choose, I’d say she should be black and gray: black for the sadness she hinted in our small talk, and gray for all the pretend happiness she could make anyone believe.
The sad girl in the play had a father who cheated on his wife, a wife who gambled her family’s savings, and no sibling to whom she – the only child —could share her respite. She was alone, or as she would say in the play: “Why can’t you understand me?”