Archive for the ‘Monologues’ Category

The Inevitable

Monday, October 15th, 2012

Death… death is unavoidable. It’s a fact of life. Some choose to hide from the topic, others choose to be scared of it. But me? I’m not scared of it. I think about it frequently…

Being who I am, my life feels like a tightrope, one where there is no net below to catch me if I fall. That if I did fall, everything would be over, and that’s that. And if I were to fall, there would be no “YOU HAVE 5 DAYS/HOURS/MINUTES TO LIVE. MAKE IT WORTH WHILE” Mega phone guy telling me that. I’d have maybe 5 seconds and it would be over. That’s how life is. Car crashes, cancer, disease, the end, everything. It just ends.

It’s like in a movie, when it’s so intense, you are so engrossed, then it’s suddenly over… everything is done. The lights come up and you’re still sitting there like, what? You don’t get a choice; you don’t choose your life, unless that is… you choose to end it early.

You know that feeling when you tip too far back in a chair and it feels like your heart drops out of your body? I wonder if that’s how life ends… you’re lying there, or sitting there, or standing there, and suddenly you get that feeling and your life is over. As fast as that.

There are so many ways you can die. A terrible disease, a car accident, malnourishment, old age, falling, and suicide. There are more than that, but that’s too much to write down. Sometimes people die slowly, but is that really better? You never get a chance to say goodbye to your loved ones. Unless you do every day. But that’s not the final goodbye.

The final good bye is them burying you in the cemetery with everyone else they love. But what about the tears streaming down their faces, the swollen eyes days after, months after; it’s the longing in their hearts. But some people can never say goodbye. Goodbye has to be the hardest word to say. Because no one wants to let go. Letting go can be leaving a part of your childhood behind. Or a part of your future.

Suicide is a different story all together. You can say goodbye, without anyone knowing your saying goodbye. But then they think about those last moments over and over again. What was the last thing I said? Did I offend them in some way to push it? Was it my fault? Could I have stopped it? Then they come to the conclusion, it’s all my fault. And that haunts them forever. Sometimes suicides can get national reports. Even some deaths can be, suicides or not.

Death can be a long discussion. And a hard one, especially if you know someone who has currently died. And I know a few who have. I know sometimes you think, how am I supposed to get over this? How do I move on?

And the most common one of all, “Why him/her?” or “It’s my fault.” “Did I say I love them?”

Sometimes you just have to move on… it isn’t easy, and it will take time. Just remember, it’s ok to cry.


The Overdose

Wednesday, June 13th, 2012

This is a Fictional monologue.

So the day it happened I had had a bad day at school, some kids had picked on me and I just felt horrible. So when I got home I was already in craps-ville. I walked in the door and knew instantly my dad was drunk. Everything was everywhere. Pictures smashed, chairs broken, fabric on the groud… It was really frightening… so I headed upstairs, prepared to be there all night… but then I heard him screaming at me from the bottom of the stairs. He was yelling at me saying I was a mistake, they never wanted me, and that I’d grown into something he couldn’t control, some demon he didn’t want. He swore at me, calling me names… then he said it was my fault moms dead. I knew it wasn’t true but that hurt. It was a low blow. So I stood there watching him as he screamed at me, smashing everything in sight. He had never been this bad.

So when I knew he wouldn’t notice if I left I ran up the stairs, locked my door and cried. I cried for hours. There

I’ll sure miss this place…

was no one I could tell, no one I could talk to, no one I trusted… So I sat alone. Then I got up, walked around my room picking things up and setting them back down. Then I picked up the bottle of Tylonal… before I knew what I was doing I had downed 10 or 11… Then I picked up a pad of paper and wrote a note to everyone I cared about. To everyone who might care. Apologizing. Telling why and what happened. Being fully honest. But then my dad came to my door, begging I come out and listen to him. So I did. I went downstairs to find he had cleaned it up a bit. He sat on the couch with his head in his hands… and he apologized, he said that he just missed mom, and something came over him, that he knows it was wrong to yell, but he felt so alone. So I took a step forward and hugged him, knowing this may very well be the last time I ever did it. Then I whispered “I love you” and turned to go upstairs. I got only about halfway up the stairs when everything went blurry, I tried speeding up but I fell over, and went down the stairs. The last thing I remember was my dad running towards my body, and me whispering, “I’m sorry” and it all went black.

And now I guess I’m dead. I’m talking to myself… but not? And who are you? Someone to judge if I get to live? How should you get that power? I don’t know if I want to live or not. I just want everyone to know that this could have been stopped. I hope you make the right choice… *turn around and start walking away then turn suddenly around*

Wait, before you choose. I love my dad more than anything in this world, no matter what he said or did… Maybe it would be easier if I never went back… maybe if I left him alone he would finally be able to move on… to be happy.

Falling for the Cheater

Friday, June 8th, 2012

Fictional Monologue. 

Cheaters are people most people hate. But for some reason I keep going back to him… he cheats on me again and again and I never learn. I keep telling myself that I love him. But then when he cheats… he tells me that it meant nothing to him, that I’m the only one he’ll ever love. When he looks at me with those blue eyes, how could I deny it? So I fall for him again and again. But I’m done. I can’t handle that type of pain… I just can’t. It feels like something is digging deeper and deeper into my chest… Sooner or later I will break down… I guess I’m doing that right now.

But he hurts me. And he loves me. I love him. I love him… but I am seriously falling apart. I have depression. I have eating disorders. I have insomnia. I’ve been diagnosed for all of those… but how do I keep going with him? He’s only making it worse. I hate it! I have to leave… and never come back. I have to get better… maybe if I move… maybe if I leave this place then I’ll get better. My whole family is scared of me. I hate this. I told my parents what happened. So now we’re moving. I hope it gets better. I need it to. I really do.

Monologue by: Grace Rosien

The Crash

Friday, June 8th, 2012

If I lose him… I don’t know what I’ll do…

This is a Fictional Monologue

He was my best friend…. Until the crash… we were walking home and I saw a car swerving on the road, I yelled and he pulled me to him just in time. He could have died. He still can…. He’s in a coma. When the car hit it only hit him, sent us flying, but if he doesn’t wake up… he will wake up. I know he will. He has to; I sit here day and night. Praying. Now that’s something I haven’t done in a while. No one can make me leave.

Sometimes… when I know no one’s going to come in, I crawl up onto the bed with him. I fell asleep like that once. My arms wrapped around him; I felt so safe. I woke up with a blanket on me. I love him. I can’t live without him. I’ve never said I loved someone and actually meant it. But since I’m living without him right now… well I now know that he’s the only one I’ve ever loved. I’m just scared… when that car hit him, his arms went around me… protecting me. He tried giving his life for me. And all I can do is sit here and grieve. But tomorrow is the trial. I will make sure that that man pays for what he did to my best friend. To my life.

I only broke my ankle and wrist. Nothing compared to him. He may have brain damage, he may never wake up… he broke a few bones, but they’re healing fine. What if he doesn’t remember me… what if he forgets everything… I can’t lose him. He’s my life. So this man will pay for what he’s done.

Monologue by: Grace Rosien