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Aazimah Muhammad Monologue

Aazimah Muhammad 



I love ice cream, well, loved ice cream. You and I were one, but now you’ve fallen. Now I’m sad. Now I can only think about your cool choclatelly-ness on my lips. I loved you, and now you left me. Looking at you not in my cone, made me cry. I thought it was only you and I, but now your cheating. Cheating on me with the ground? I was good to you; I even made sure you were paid for. You were going to be the highlight of my day, but now I cant think about it because it will only make me feel worst. I could go get another one, but I only wanted you. The next ice cream cone will only be yet another failed relationship, after I eat it of course. I only wanted you to be with me, and you left. Because of my clumsy pink church shoes, I tripped and you left me. We could have gotten thought it together, but you flipped and fell. You lay beneath my shoes, even with a little of your chocolate on my ruffle socks.


And now I just have to cry. Just sit here and cry. How could a 4 year old child, ever be so lonely. Well without you I feel just that, lonely.  Looking at you melt on my shoe soles, now changing my shoes a different color, I just cry. Tasting the complete opposite of you, hot, salty tears only make me break down. I wish I had you to be sweet and cold on my taste buds. But now I’m too upset, I don’t know what to do anymore. You’re still melting and I’m still standing here with a blank and salty face, wishing you could make it better.


Before you melt completely and run down the sidewalk of the ice cream shop, do you remember that time we were on the swings, and I was so over excited that you and I were at the park on that lovely day. What about that time when we were at the amusement park, and you were running all down my hands, or even the time that you made my hands all sticky. Or do you even remember my love for you as a child? Being an adult now I have to think about many-failed relationship as being that day you fell off my cone. You taught me something; you taught me that all relationships end. Either someone gets left hopelessly, or it ends sweet and abruptly.


The bigger picture is that it could be sweet every time, but no matter what, it has to end. Ice cream now that your almost gone, I would like to tell you that you and I were meant for each other, just like the rest of my favorite desserts, who managed to terminate the relationship. I will understand, and even as an adult I will understand how things work out. The first lick is the sweetest, but the first cut is the deepest. 

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Welcome to The Jungle

Taylor Ximines


Welcome to the jungle. Where people here usually end up in jail, where they actually do look like animals inside of a cage. Welcome to Hell on Earth. Some days you feel as though Hell is a wonderful alternative then being in this place. Drug addicts and dealers are on every corner like clockwork. Welcome to the place that will make you or break you. Where if you do live past 21 then you will not accomplish anything. Either you are making babies or making drugs, there are no other options. Here we have no real mothers. Instead we have women who had to give up their childhood and dreams to raise their own children. Here babies have babies. Women who repeated the dreaded cycle of nothingness. Bitterness and regret run through their veins instead of blood. And fathers? Half the people here don’t even know the definition of this word. All they know is that 9 months before their birth dates their mothers had sex with some man. And the ones who do know their father only know him by a tombstone or an inmate number.

There are no houses on the hill in this place. Instead, we have houses so closed to each other that you can smell what your neighbors are cooking through your walls. No one here lives in a condo, instead they have apartment buildings whose hallways are filled with filth and urine and elevators are never in operation. Nope, there are no backyards here, alleyways are what we have. And in these alleyways there are no Mercedes or BMW cars with the top down.

The streets are covered in nothing but filthy trash, so much people can’t even tell you what color the concrete on the ground is. There is a foul smell here also, not so much an actual stinky smell; but the smell of failure. A smell that once you’re here you are here forever.

College? The kids here can’t even spell that word. Most people dropout by age 15 or 16, or just stop going. You see education means absolutely nothing. The only “higher learning” that gets done here is the high people get from smoking drugs. Only a few people have gotten out of here and got an education and better life. And the ones that did get out? Oh trust me, they have no thought of coming back. Quite honestly I don’t blame them. I mean why come back? People here think of you as a sellout or snobby, because you did what they never could.

Welcome to the place where the sun don’t shine. Only good days here are the days when no gunshots are heard. And the funniest thing of all is that this is never going to change. Poverty is always going to be the driving force that keeps people here. Something that this place never had and never will is hope.

You see I am what causes all of this, I am the reason why these people will never know or do any better. I am what keeps these people from living a better life. I am Ignorance.


My Sad Expression Became My Casual Expression

I wake up, I’m still on my bed, I think about people and how they think I revolve around this quote: “Life sucks and then you die.” People think my way of being, is based on this idea. If you ask me why I always look unhappy and dress the way I do, I will probably tell you what people assume: that I really think life sucks. In a way people’s assumptions are right, but the part where they are wrong is the part where they single me out. They judge me and when they do, they also think that they are so much better and smarter than me with their “normal” clothes and behavior. People go by stereotypes. They give into society’s labels to try to fit in. Not me. Ha! Ironically, that’s what makes me better than them. 

I get up and pick out my edgy clothes that people like to hate on and insult. “Shady” and “coarse” are what they call my style, and what they call me. How do I know what goes through people’s minds? I don’t. It doesn’t take a mind reader to know the judgments people make about you. You just need to have your ears and eyes open and vigilant. Once I was aware of the noises and looks about me and around me, it became obvious how people view me. It became clear simply by the looks they give me. You know, the looks that say: “I’m better than you.” What triggers those looks? I call it hatred based on an objectification. In other words, this hatred is a type of narcissism.

People let society degrade them because they’re too vulnerable, they are narcissistic to the point where they need other people’s approval to make themselves feel better. When I hear girls my age fish for compliments, all I do is think to myself: that’s one difference I will always have with most people, because sadly most people are narcissistic.

My point about people’s narcissism is that when people judge my style as “dark” and “coarse”, it’s based on their own narcissism, their own disparity to be normal, because they can’t accept that I am not narcissistic like them, and so they hate my style.

Thinking about my life and society makes my head spin. I process everything for the upcoming day, and finally get up. When I’m done getting ready, and about to head out the door, my body freezes after I head out. I hear glass shattering against the floor, and someone yelling in the background. “Great!” I think, “I’m starting off the morning just great! Worried, annoyed and tired.” Of course my dad chooses now to get angry. Yesterday he was too busy not caring about anything other than T.V. and that cheap beer bottle of his. He gets like that whenever he’s upset. It was all because of me, like it always is. I’m the reason why they fought yesterday night, and many nights before. My dad was really looking forward to going to my stupid parent/teacher conference meeting, but my mom couldn’t make it just like she can’t make it to almost anything because of her new job as a real-estate agent. “I told you yesterday that I had a meeting with a very important client. Don’t say I embarrassed you by not showing up, when I already informed you that I couldn’t go!” my mom yelled. “B.S. Miranda! You sent me a lousy text like you always do. And it’s always an important client for you! This is just always an excuse for you not to deal with our daughter. Well congratulations for being the greatest wife and mom, and leaving me with the dirt to handle!” my dad retorted frustratingly.

After this dramatic scene for me, my mom rapidly walks out through the backdoor. And I just stand there watching my dad in agony at what he’d just said. “So I’m like dirt, that you have to deal with now?” I say. I slam the door behind me, not caring that my dad is running after me, yelling “I didn’t mean it like that, honey, but you know your mom always runs away from problems. I had to say something!”

I know I shouldn’t have been hard on my dad, especially since my mom pretty much did that, but I couldn’t just let go of the fact that he was addressing me as dirt that needs to be handled.

With my “strange” style and “depressed” expression, I finally arrive at school. And like any other regular school day I barge into class late. As if my day wasn’t already miserable I realize that my first class is math. I hate math. It’s just a game with a bunch of numbers, what’s the point? It doesn’t matter at all. I mean I have an F in math and for what? For being who I am, and not liking numbers or homework? Honestly why would I do my homework when math is stupid.

I sit and drop my book bag on the floor, our teacher asks the class this complicated question. I raise my hand giving her a complicated answer. Apparently “complicated” means “smart” to my crowd of classmates, because everyone’s head turned around. They all just stare at me, astounded.

My parents can join the crowd and be astounded by my knowledge. I’m not dirt like my father said I was he made me seem like a total bimbo. I remember this one time, when I sat in math class knowing that no one believed in me just like other days in my life. Just sitting in class, with no hint of sadness in my face, because the sadness simply bled into originality. That is what my original expression looks like. It doesn’t mean I am sad, it just means I am different. That I simply grew up very fast waking up one day to realize that the world is sad. 


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Tyanna Pleasant



       (To self) The water is much warmer than usual. (To self) It does not smell like my home. Did we move to another location momma? I know you hear me talking to you, where are we? Where did you go? I do not want to play games right now, I just woke up and it’s very early. (To self) Okay, I guess I’ll come look for you. READY OR NOT HERE I COME!! Momma! Where are you I can’t find you anywhere? You are a very good hider; maybe we should play when I am familiar with this place though. (To self) There are no hiding places around here and I can see everything; the water is so clear. (To self) I have no clue where she would be hiding and I do not know my way around this place. I give up, I’m done looking for you momma, and you can come out now. What is that over there? Is that humans? Yay, I love humans I’m going to go play with them, and maybe they can tell me where my momma is hiding. OUCH! What is this, why can’t I get to the humans? Hello humans can you hear me? My name is Jayden Dolphin, I’m 3 years old and I’m looking for my momma. She is hiding from me and I cannot find her. Do you know where she may be hiding; I’m having trouble finding her. Why are you laughing? I am asking you a question. What did you say? I can’t hear you speak louder please? Can you hear me? STOP! What is that bright light! What are those objects all of you have? I want one too they look fun. (To self) I found one of them at the bottom of my Ocean before but I did not know what to do with it. What do they do? What are they called? Can you show me how to work it please? Are they poisoning me? STOP I do not like that, the flash is unpleasant to my eyes. Why are you all laughing? I want to know what is funny may I laugh with you? What is so funny? Please tell me? Can you speak up please? I cannot hear what you are saying. I think there is an invisible wall I cannot get through it, can you try to come over here? Then, we can swim together, you can teach me how to work the flash thing you have in your flipper, and you can tell me what is funny and we can laugh together. Come on, it will be fun. Why won’t you come play with me? Something is preventing me from going over there to you, so you have to come over here. This is not fun; I wanted to play with you all. Now my feelings are hurt, I’m going away you are not nice humans. My momma is going to hear about you, and she is not going to like you guys at all. She is going to tell your mommas and you will get into trouble. MOMMA, where are you! (To self) I do not think I am home anymore, what if I never find my momma? (To self) What if the horrible people Papa used to always talk about have kidnapped me? (To self) There are lots of yummy looking fish around here. I am hungry now. Too bad momma isn’t around right now; she could be enjoying these fishes with me. They are very delicious, and just how I like them. I have been thinking about my day today. Unfortunately, I have come to the conclusion that I am in a tank, that maybe my momma is never coming back, and that the horrible people have caught me.

 I have been…CAPTURED!



From 16 to 30

Hey dad how was…Damn, another one of them dreams. I looked around, it was still dark outside and I didn’t want to get up. I wish my life was a dream. My mom at home with us cooking dinner, my dad coming home from work. I hate my life. I hate my parents, especially my mom. Why did she leave, she was doing so well. If she was struggling with her addiction all she had to do was tell us. I would of got her some help. But she left me, right after dad got locked up, making me take care of my sister alone. I mean my dad was a good guy he just did the wrong things. He made sure me and Amya kept our grades up, always made sure we was living somewhere, and kept us on the right track. I know he’d change what he did if he could, but he can’t. I looked at the alarm again, 6:05 am. I gotta wake up Amya.

We did our usual routine. I wake her up, she fusses, and eventually gets dressed, while I make breakfast…. well, cereal. As I walked down the hallway I made sure I locked the apartment, we don’t have much but the last thing I need is to have whatever we got left taken from us. We made our way down the dark hallway, with that one flickering light that can go out at any moment, and on our way to the elevator. Once we got down to the first floor, I wave to Mrs. Brown our landlord, and walked Amya to her bus stop. But this time the bus wasn’t there. I looked at my watch my dad got me the day before he got arrested. It said 7 am so where is this bus, because I really gotta get to school. If I’m late one more day that’s my ass. I can’t afford to repeat a grade, at least not tenth grade. I mean my teachers have been trying to help since they know my situation, but there’s only so much they can do.  I looked down the street. There was nothing but street lights and broke down houses. No one was out which is the usual around here. People only come out at night to sell drugs and stuff. I'm safe in my neighborhood though. I kind of have street cred around here since my dad was a drug dealer. Everyone that sells drugs around here works for my dad… well use to. Her bus finally came giving me just enough time to get to school.

I got to school just in time to get to my locker and get my books for history. Just as I shut my locker I felt someone tap me on my shoulder. I turned around and I saw her. Naomi the most beautiful girl in this school, but why was she talking to me. “ Hey Daemon.” I looked at her surprised she even knew my name. I mean I wasn’t a loser, I knew people, I had friends and was surprisingly popular considering the fact that I never had new clothes so I guess it was my personality. “ Umm... Hey Naomi. Wassup?” I finally said, I started wondering how I sounded. “ So I just wanted to know….” She said in a very sexy voice but my phone started ringing. My phone never rings unless it has something to do with Amya. I answered it. “ Hello Daemon?” some lady said. “Yeah this is me” I said I was getting annoyed. “Okay I was calling to tell you about your sister, Amya.” The lady said. She had a calm voice  so I didn’t think it was anything serious. “Yeah what’s wrong with her?” I said confused. “Well she has a very high fever and she’s very nauseous, is there anyway that someone can pick her up?” At that moment all I could do was look at Naomi. The one chance that she will ever talk to me slipped out of my hands, but it was my sister. This was something I knew I had to give up to give my sister that perfect brother. The big brother that will always be there for her and never leave her.


I only had a little


“I only had a little”

Glenn (surprised), I wasn’t expecting you to be up. I thought you were going to bed. You know don’t you? I can tell you know. At least you aren’t dad. I didn’t break curfue. I only had a little. Everybody else was doing it. I knew and trusted everybody there. Those can be my arguments. Just in case dad finds out. He will ground me I understand that. (Pause) I could just tell him. I would get in a lot less trouble, like when criminals plead guilty. He will see that it was harmless. Remind him that he did it when he was a kid. He will not hurt me then. I will still get yelled at, just not hit. I know he does not normally hit me but this might set him over. Although he did not hit you when he caught you. I will tell him the names of the people I was with. He knows them and trusts them. He will understand that I could not have been hurt with them around. No damage was done to myself. I will not tell him who brought it. That way everybody who was there will get in the same amount of trouble. I will remind him that all of my grades are fine and will not be affected. Remind him that I have never broken any rules, well except for this. I will tell him I have been the child who helped when it was needed. I was the only one who ever told the truth, even when I was getting in trouble too.

I do not have a problem. I only tried it once and did not like the taste. That will not work will it? He will assume I am lying about trying it once if I say I don’t like the taste. If I plead guilty I will not get in trouble for lying. That would only add to my punishment. Hopefully he will not tell me I can’t see Steve, Josh, or Ryan again. I can’t really make an excuse to hang out with the people who got me to drink. I will still see them at school, but it won’t be the same. It is not like I am drunk. I will be able to get up and go to school in the morning no problem. I won’t have a hangover. I just had a sip. 


This needs to end...(niyala brownlee0

Niyala Brownlee

This needs to end…

(In her room sitting in a corner with low light down knees up.)

I’m scared….

I’m scared shitless. …


I want this to end.

No I need this to end.

What did I do to deserve this?

I mean, all I did…was help someone.

Was that so wrong?

They were being bullied,

And I thought it was wrong so…of course I intervened.

(Suddenly bland cold voice with no feelings but hate and blame)

But then It happened.

They turned on me.

First…the school,

…And then my friends.

I could handle the ignorance of the teachers and the sudden downfall in my ‘Popularity’. But of course,

When you leave something unattended or…let things go on without doing anything about it for a long time…

It gets worse.

Much worse.

(Sarcastic snobby tone)

It starts with the small pranks,

You know,

Like the old disappearing desk, or…the classical egg throwing and being locked in the bathroom stall with a bucket of water dumped over your head.

(adding in a lost wondering tone. Almost as if shes not speaking )

Then it turns big.

Thumb tacks everywhere you go. Burning trash in you book bag.

And if that doesn’t make someone paranoid enough,

(Questioning answer demanding tone)(Starts pacing)

Then what about when you to home to find everything in your room trashed,

but the doors were all locked. (smirking)

When you can’t even be safe in your own house… its scary isn’t it?

Yeah well you don’t even know the half of what it feels like. (cold wincing look)

It make me afraid,

Very afraid. (Sad face, start looking like she’s going to cry)

Makes me…Paranoid. (hands up to either side of the head wide eyes, wild crazy look)

I need help.

I need them to stop.

I need this to end.

What am I going to do.

When will this end?

(Just figured out tone)

Know, I know why that kid never said anything.

Know I know why no one dared to speak up.

But of course I had to open my mouth and say something.

But I don’t regret it.

I don’t regret what I did.

(Starts slowly speaking with fierce determination gradually getting louder. Emphases on the ‘I’)

What ‘I’ regret is how I never said anything against my own abuse.

What ‘I’ regret is how I didn’t stop it before it started.

What ‘I’ regret….

(Suddenly stops and starts speaking slowly but still determined)

…No…what I can’t stand!..

Is how I had the guts to stand up for someone else, But I coward in fear when it came to myself.

If I want this to end,

I have to do this my self.

I have to take the first step and take measures into my own hands because that’s where they were in the first place.

But when I strike back, I will not do I will not sink to there level with their dirty childish tricks.

I will be mature with my attack.

It wont be physical. But it will hurt like hell.

It will end my torture.

But at the same time, it will make them think twice about doing this to me, or anyone ever again.

Yeas that’s how I will fight back

That’s how I will win.

(Smirking determined face)





Gabby Santaniello

Speaking. It shouldn’t be this hard. It’s not like I can’t. So just go on… speak! But of course, I can’t, my throat closes up and I’m silenced again my by own fears. Write a poem, Mrs. Kemp said, write a poem about what you feel, it could be about anything, don’t hold back, don’t edit, just write. And so we do, we pour out our souls onto this 9 by 7 inch paper and then she tells us to speak. To get up in front of the class and recite the most vulnerable parts of us. So naturally, I go first. ‘Melody, read us your poem.’ And my heart stops, and my blood runs cold, I shake my head as my throat closes up, such a frequent feeling. I open my mouth but no sound comes out, and all Mrs. Kemp does is frown and look disappointed. I’m not surprised, this has been going on for a while.  I think people have begun to forget my name, ‘The quiet girl’ they call me. I haven’t always been silent, they have to know that, I’ve spoken to many of them before. They ask my why I don’t talk like they don’t know, like they weren’t the cause of it. I used to speak. But not anymore, once you’ve been shut up so many times, you loose the glamour of it all. Expressing my opinions means nothing if nobody wants to listen. Or maybe I just don’t want to talk to them. Why should I have to share my thoughts? Thoughts are private things. My thoughts, my opinions, are mine and mine alone. Some people’s thoughts are nasty and mean, some people only want to tare you down, but what could you possibly hold against me if I never speak? 


Cancer eats Brains. By:Taylor Thomas

Taylor Thomas

-7-year-old girl, Angie on a hospital bed

-7year-old Cary, her friend talking to her

 (Angie laying on hospital bed, Cary sitting on a chair doing homework)

Angie, what did you get for number 7 on that math worksheet?


Are you sure? I got 2 not 1. You have to minus 1 not 2, silly. Mrs. Valley yelled at Kenny today in Religion class. Kenny took Sean’s notebook and threw it on the floor, so Mrs. Valley grabbed him by his shirt, took him outside and started yelling at him. She said that he is always a disruption to her class and that he never listens. She told him that she was going to send a note home to his mom. He was so scared!

Excuse me, nurse, can you get her a glass of water? Thank you.

(Nurse comes back with water. Monologue is spoken to the nurse now)

Ang, are you sleeping? (pause) Good. She needs to sleep. She’ll be really tired if she doesn’t sleep, if she’s going back to school on Monday. I don’t know how she’ll do it if she can barely sit up, let alone walk around for a whole day.  I wish I could sleep. I’m so tired, but I have to wait for my mom to pick me up when she’s done work. I know that cancer isn’t easy for anyone, but I just wish her cancer was curable. My mom was talking to her mom and they were talking about her cancer eating. It was eating something.. Oh! It was her brain. The cancer was eating her brain. They said that her brain was gonna turn to mush in a couple of weeks. I hope it’s not to mushy when she goes to college, cause my sister says college is really hard. Angie will have to think really really hard when she goes if her brain is all mushy. (beep beep beep)

(panic) Nurse? What’s that beeping noise? Is Angie okay? What’s going on! Help her! Take the needle things out of her arm! They’re hurting her! Help! Angie! Wake up! Angie! (back to nurse) Help her! She’s not waking up! Get her mom! She’s in the waiting room! (calls Angie’s mom) Michelle, Michelle! Hurry something’s wrong with Angie! She’s not waking up! She has to be okay for school Monday. (pause, long beep) the beeping stopped. She’s okay right? There’s no more beeping. She’s okay… Angie? Why won’t she wake up? Did the cancer go away? Did the cancer make her brain mushy? Is that why she won’t wake up? (Starts to cry) I hate cancer. Tell her cancer to stop making her sleep. She has to go to school to see everybody. Angie, Angie! Get up! We’re gonna go to school. Come on! (Mom walks in) Mommy, Tell Angie’s cancer to stop making her sleep! (pause) Angie I have to leave, mommy says we’re going home. I’ll come back tomorrow to see you okay? I love you.

(end scene)


I'd rather have bad times with you...

Victoria Yarbrough

November 9, 2011



Today is the day. The judge will determine if I get to go back home to my mama. It’s been so long and I’ve tried so hard to be a good person. I’ve been on my best behavior. I brought my grades up, I apologized to all the punks I beat up, and I even cut off the ties with the drug suppliers. It all was hard, but I don’t want to go to another home where those people could care less about me. Where they forget to feed me, tell me I can’t go outside, and make me sleep on the floor. They're all liars, and pretend to give a damn in front of the authorities. I just want my mama to want me. I even promised God that I’d be better and I don’t get into that religion stuff. No more fighting, no more staying out late, and definitely no more selling drugs. I’m not a bad person though, all I’ve done, good or bad has been for my mama. I was tired of seeing her struggle with the rent, and living paycheck to paycheck. Especially when something could be done. I had to do something, right? My daddy ain’t shit; he left at snap of a finger. For my trying to help, they blamed my poor mama saying:

“Ms. Peters, your son is out of hand, and you have no control over him. We feel that it’d be best if he lived with a more organized family.”

 But the crazy thing about it is, she didn’t even cry or beg for me to stay. She just let them take me. I expected some real dramatic Life time scene where she’d be beating people’s ass’s for me. Instead, she pulled a poker face, signed some papers, and looked right through me. I felt the chill that lived in her eyes. She didn’t want me. I tried to help her and she didn’t want me. So why do I want to go back to her so bad? We don’t even get along and all we do is bicker. She wanted for me to have a better life though, but I am content with struggling if it means I can be with her. I’ll put up with the senseless fighting. I’ll find another way to help her. Hell, I’ll get a job even though I hate working. I’d rather have bad times with her than good times with someone else. Oh God, I hope the Judge makes the right decision. I can’t stand living with her, but I can’t stand living with those other people even more. I want to feel a mother’s tough love, not the synthesized version they’re trying to spoon feed me.They don't know my mama, and she's not a bad person. I was. But I've changed.


I Didn't Fall Babe, Love Fell On Me

Fire & Desire

He left me stuck, confused on what to say next. He left me hesitated on my word choice fearing if it would reveal my age. The hesitation kept me from ever wanting to find someone. Kept me from ever telling someone the way I felt entirely.

I jumped on him and stared deep into his eyes. He looked back as I stared while I talked; we made eye contact and smiled simultaneously. And then he asked in that deeply seductive voice, “Why you staring at my lips like you want to kiss me or something?” With that he puckered up. As he waited with his eyes intent on my face and desire intent by holding my there, I hesitated. Before he had the chance to repeat the question, I responded.

I crushed my lips to his with a passion that could ignite the entire room. His response gave me the sudden courage that I have been longing for for too long. At the moment all I could comprehend was the way my fingers were entangled in his soft hair and the way his palm caressed my check and lower back.

That’s all I ever wanted to know. I wanted to walk around with the knowledge of this emotion. The emotion of love. To have love given to me share and me that love with someone else.  With him. The month continued with cheers and squeals that came from the fire and desire he bought into my life. I knew that as long as I had some type of connection to him I would be okay in life.

While walking one day, I felt myself searching for something special. I wasn’t sure what it was or what form it came in. But as soon as I turned the corner I found it. He was there standing, talking. The way my heart reacted confirmed that I needed to make him mine. That I had to do it, tell him the whole story of where I stood. And then I completely saw him. He was standing and across from him was another girl.

He left me broken, with ongoing scrambles of our broken kiss. He left me hesitated, scrambled on which way to take. He left me scared, scared sick on whether to leave him. For I know that in his passing I will breathe a breath of desire. My heart will pound and my eyes will extend, to the point my blush will ignite to make amends. He will however eventually continue his path to the ones he cares for too. To the ones that I replaced, and will replace me. His multiple desires of fresh bait, his old acquaintances that destined mate. I didn’t fall babe, love fell on me.Jordan Hairston

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The silent Grade

I could tell that he was nervous, real nervous. I could damn near see him shake I’d like to die of laughter. Lord knows he wanted to die of embarrassment! I could tell he wasn’t the one. No way, no how. “He aint got the will” I thought. I thought, he may be smart, but ”He aint the one” He wouldn’t even sit down for Jesus’ sake. It went fine though. Asked him the usual questions and he handled them like some (laughing) robot program! You should’ve seen him baby. You could tell he spent his waking days memorizing every word - it was a sad sight it was. Wasn’t no way I was gonna accept him. 

After I sent him on his way with a “Thank you” I waited for the next one. Fifty you hear me? Fifty! I was getting tired of ‘em. polished, refined and grey. Boring and grey. It’s a damn shame, baby. Those parents do that to them kids. Anyway, I sent him on his way and they sent in the next one. Oh baby this one. I could tell it was something different in this one. A different ingredient. Somethin that the others didn’t have, couldn’t have on their best day.  I swear my Newton’s Cradle stoped! Oh baby he had a special vibe going with ‘em it was a sight to see. Came in all swagger. (With pride) Somethin like I was in my younger days. Sat down even before I told em to, with a smile too. He did’nt take his hat off, but I didn’t mind. I give some curveball questions, to the ones I think got a little something special in ‘em. He took every one of ‘em, sacked them right out of the park with ease. I was convinced he was worthy.

 I stood up with a smile, first time I was really happy all day baby, and shook his hand. Baby what happened next you wown’t ever believe. Listen here, wait. When I got up right, I said “Thank you sir I will be glad to have you in our school” I was so proud I was. Then, listen, he said “Sir?”. He took off his hat and I swear my jaw dropped! Can you guess? He was a she!
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Hate that class....


Yo get up time for school” aww shit its 7:30 already? Yea its Wednesday and it’s the my least favorite  class Spanish and oh boy how I hate Spanish. I tell my mom that I will not be going today but of course my mom said I think you will. Jumping out of bed brushing my teeth and getting dress and doing that other carp. Garbing my lunch to rush out the door before am late again my mom tells me that its cool out and I need a jacket and she can’t afford to get sick and other bull crap that I zone out to hear. “ You hear me” yea I said every word. I walking out the door and my bus am right on time pull out my transpass ready to get on. Doors up I look to my left and not a goddamn seat in sight. I walk to the back of the bus where I could squeeze my self in and stand. When we got to the next station this one fine look-in chick got on the bus just about the whole but was stunned. You could hear this boy in the back say “Danmmmmm I hit. Now is not the one to go crazy in public over a girl but she was pretty hot. So hot that I missed my stop and hade to walk down to school. Looking at the clock its 8:10 I am late.  I run up to the third floor and tip toe in the door. My so call friends David yells “ Shawn why you late? Like the ass he is I hade no choice but to come in. the first thing Mr. Green ask me is “Shawn why are you late to my class?” I had to think in my head for a sec tell him I got off the wrong stop daydreaming bout a girl or lie and say woke up late. Yea is going to go with woke up late. Late you say?? This is this been happen a lot for the past few days are you sure your not trying to get on time? . Yea is sure. I sit down and take my seat. Think at least I did my homework. Pull it out my book bag. He goes around checking the homework until he get to me now normally he doesn't look like he even check it but for some reason as soon as it gets to me he reads it like it some mid term paper. Shawn Mr. Green says “You have a few answers wrong you need to re do this Ill give you some credit for doing it.  All that was running threw my mind is this guy hates me. Time is going by and the class is so coming to an end and only on thing is on my mind run and get out as quick as possible. Class was dismissal and he say and “Shawn” right as I darted to the door we need to talk. The class leaves and he explains to me that I don’t respect him as a teacher. He talks on and on but I don’t care he hates me and I hate him so in the end I don’t really care. On my way to lunch the counselor sit next to my while I eat my lunch. Trying to ignore her to and finish my sandwich she says” Shawn I hear you’re not doing so well in Spanish and if you need any help am here for you. I just wanted to talk about some thing about your teacher Mr. green. Did you know back then Mr. green was a really bad student at Spanish. I stop eating for a moment and try to process what just happen, him bad at Spanish?  yea right. Its true she said it turns out he was bad I guess him and I aren’t son different but I still hate him. But the last thing she said really got me it turns out that he didn’t like his Spanish teacher. She walks away I just want to make sure you knew. A couple of my friends show up yo” Shawn you want skips school? Nah I just remembered I forgot something in Spanish you guys go with out me


Tuveson Monologue


I woke up that morning with a migraine and an ill temper. Fleeing from the cold world outside of my warm blankets, I hopped into the shower. My thoughts drifted as the hot water stimulated my comatose brain. I have to get out. I have to eat. I have to get on the fetid train. I have to go to my cubicle. I have to talk to my idiot boss. I have to converse with my idiotic coworkers.


Damn it.


I got out of the shower. Cold again, the world was very cold, I thought. I went over to the dresser in my bedroom threw my clothes on, and swallowed two or three aspirin. Breakfast that day seemed to take much longer than it should have. The smell of the food was nauseating, and my coffee tasted like sewage. In retrospective, I probably should have eaten at that food cart outside of work, the one run by the Indian guy with the scar.


I stepped out the front door of my apartment building and waited for the bus in the cold. I climbed on to the bus, sat down, and closed my eyes. I think of the places I would rather be.


I am in a desert, the wind blowing sand into my face. I am flying, high over the Atlantic Ocean. I am in space, as big as the universe, with as much mass as a thousand black holes. All of these thoughts ran through my brain. If only I was, but no, I was still on the bus on my way to my job.


Twenty-second and Market, time to get off the bus. I hesitated before my foot hit the pavement. As soon as my foot hits the pavement I am committing to going to this job, I thought (sigh). I could have stayed on the bus, but I got off. My parents raised me to be this spineless. They were both stupid, I thought, and because of it I’m spineless, like a Jellyfish… Like a Jellyfish... The phrase seemed to repeat for some reason. My mind began to drift again, visions of jellyfish swimming, bobbing around my head. The bus drives away, and I start walking to work, Jellyfish following me.


I walked up to my building and take a deep inhale, as if I’m about to dive into a lake. I waved nonchalantly to the security guard, and forced a smile. Forcing a smile was a terrible idea. Smiling when I don’t want to makes me feel terrible, and honestly, forced smiles make me want to cry. I kept myself together until I got on the elevator. Fortunately, I was in pretty early, and now one saw what transpired.


By the time I reached my floor, I ran to the bathroom and started weeping uncontrollably. I tried to control myself but it was too late. I sat and stared at the wall, thinking about killing myself. I was just another gear in a big machine. Just a useless piece of society that could be replaced if it broke, that’s all I was. I ran out of my building and hailed a cab. Later that day I called my boss and told him I was sick. Then I drank till I was sick.


Anyway, that’s all that happened. Thanks for listening doctor, I’ll See you again next week at the same time? Okay, good.

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(Rock back and forth)

 “Yo Spit! Where you at?” Blast in my ears

(Huffs) The desert is dry and deserted like the inside of my head, my soul, and my body. “Yo Spit! Where you at?”(Echoes in my head still) I know my damn name. I’m a young girl, with chipped nail polish, ashy feet, curled up toes with sand particle in between them (Looks at her feet). I have burnt color skin, thick, tangled hair, with scars that can run on for miles (rubs her face, and body). It’s dry out here, nothing to do. It seems so free, free enough to be me. I’m trapped. Abandoned with my own self. (Scratches head) So die, to die, no water, why not die? A young savage, a young failure, a young loser (deep breathe). Still the words “Yo Spit! Where you at?” lingers in my head.

I’m by myself so why not die? No mother! No more hitting, no more scars. No more red leakage from my busted face, and body.  Life moves in slow motion as I try to get away from my mother tight grip, and cigarette smoke. I’m trapped. No daddy! No more dope dealing, selling my body, and making money the fast way. My daddy taught me how to do it all, I make a buck fifty an hour. No more pain? Pain, oh I know pain.

I’m trapped. No more friends! No stealing, robbing, killing, hurting people. My crew and I have people shaking. What we want, we get. But still, I’m trapped. No uncle! He loves me, he tells me everyday. He lays me down, and does things I don’t like, but he loves me. I’m trapped. (Counts on fingers) I got me, myself, and I got my desert. I’m trapped. I want to stay trapped. I have to come out sometime. Because these damn words won’t leave my head “Yo Spit! Where you at?”

Back to my mom, dad, friends, and uncle. Back to scars, dope, prostitution, and stealing. I portray a life I don’t want. My desert will be here, my closet, under my bed, my roof, and inside a box. My desert is everywhere life isn’t hurting me. Oh! My desert will be here. Ready for the next girl, that can’t stand to look at her self in the mirror. Prepared for the next boy, that gets abused, and have black eyes, and deep bloody cut marks. Setup for the next teen, which lives a life of hurt. I am a young girl that hates her life. I’m trapped in reality, with everyone and everything I hate. (Balls fist up) So die, to die, why not die? (Tear)

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branden halls english

The orange paper stapled on my door shocked me. I looked at the orange paper and read it five times. Then to make sure I read it five more times. We were getting evicted and there was nothing to do about it. I live with my mom and my brother and sister. We have very little money since I only work part time because of school and my mom is too lazy to work. She says she’ll look for a job soon or the job market is hard but I know the reason. And she knows the reason. My brother and sister know the reason. And my neighbors know the reason. She’s given up. She doesn’t care if she lives or dies she doesn’t care if her kids starve to death. My mom has lost her mind.


It’s been like this since my dad died but that doesn’t matter because that was then and this is now. We are being evicted and there is nothing I can do. “Felix, Felix!” my sister yells. She doesn’t need to know any of this so I rip the paper off quickly and stuff it in my pocket. I need to keep what’s going on with the house to myself. She is only eight so I don’t want her to be sucked into the world that I’m in. The world where all you think about is where the next meal is going to come form or if you’ll have to give your meal to your siblings. I wish my mom had done that for me. No I was basically born into this world that few people know about. I have to go to work for four hours then I bring home dinner, four double cheeseburgers and four fries. My mom doesn’t eat she just stares at the ceiling. How can she be so docile? Doesn’t she know we are in trouble? She must’ve seen the notice so why isn’t she freaking out like I am? Why isn’t she showing any emotion? I start getting angry so I walk out the door with my fries. The salt somehow soothes me and keeps me from making any crazy decisions. I also think of my dad when I eat fries since it was him that got me hooked. It reminds me of a time where I didn’t have to worry about food and my dad took care of every thing. I remember a time when my parents and I were all happy, but that was then and this is now. I walk back in a take a big breath (breath). My brother is in his room but my sister is in the living room playing with her dolls. I guess she is making a lot of noise because my mom finally does something she yells at my sister.


My anger reappears and I’m out of fries. Nothing is controlling my anger and her yelling was getting louder. How dare she yell at my sister! She hasn’t token of my sister in years now she thinks she can yell at my sister! My fist, are clenching and I feel like I’m going to throw up. I step in between of my mom and sister. I tell my sister to go into her room but she is still in shock from the yelling. My mom is yelling at me now asking who am I to tell my sister what to do. My mom is now targeting me but this is more physical. She’s push and slapping and calling me all kinds of names until I snap. I push her on the couch and tell her to stop; I tell her that I’m the one taking care of this family. My eyes are watering. I

I’m shouting now. “Did you even notice we are being evicted!!! We could be out on the streets in days and it’s your fault!!! Do you even care about us?” but I know the answer. I know what she is going to say but instead of words she hits me. Maybe it was all the stress from the eviction or maybe it was the built up anger but before I knew it I hit her back.

She’s shocked and I’m shocked but I’m surprised by what she does next.  She leaves, she gets up and leaves. As the door slams I turn around to see my brother and sister looking at me in fear. Why? I’m the one who has been taking care of them me not my mother. Now that she has left nothing has changed I am still the one who has to get up at 5:30 am so and iron my siblings clothes. I am still the one who has to go to work for hours after school. I am still the one paying the bills. I look at their faces and I know that they have just been brought into the world that I’ve lived in for years. The world of fear.


What My Father Taught Me

“5… 4… 3… 2…1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!” It was a cold New Years Eve on a dark night in New York with a family having a nice family dinner. As they celebrate for the New Year with everyone happy and in joy, a father at the party is facing this thought that he wants to have a conversation to his son about everyday life and how he should take it. His son is 16 years old and is growing up in life. He is a straight a student in school and is looking into going to college and having a degree and profession in something. His father doesn’t want him to mess up and make the same mistakes that he did when he was little and messed up his life

So he took his son Danny to a private place so they can speak to each other about life and problems in it. They went to the back of the house in the backyard on a cold night. They both sat down at a rusty table were in the yard with 2 seats that looked like they went through hard times of weather. The dad started off soft asking him about school and how his day was. Then he got to the real topic of what he wanted to talk about. “Danny I want you to know whatever you do with your career you will have my 100% of support.” Danny had this gloom in his face, as he was so excited to see his dad care about what he did and have support from him. “Thanks dad for caring about me and being so supportive of everything I do I promise I won’t let you down” “Danny I am not worried about you cause I know you will do right I just you to have good friends instead of these hood rats”. The son took a quick pause in confusion on what his dad was trying to tell him. “Dad … What do you mean hood rats?” The dad trying to find a specific way to describe what he meant by hood rats. “Hood rats son, kids that don’t give a damn about their education and want to damage others lives as they did to theirs.

The son took this in a good way but as they say friends can make you change your opinion and forget bout what everyone else said. The New Years break was over and time to go back to school. Danny kept thinking about what his dad had told him and knew that he was capable of doing good and making his dad happy and proud of him. After school hit and Danny’s friends invited him to a little party they were having in a beach side home where no parents were and they had freedom. Surely as a teenager he decided it sounded cool to him so he accepted the invitation and went along with his friends. When they got there the whole school was present, when it came to the cheerleaders, to the football players, to the basketball team they were all there. They decided to bring in drinks and liquor so they can enjoy the fine Friday night where they can have fun and not worry about school the next day. They celebrated and drunk till there was no tomorrow. But then a friend came out of a room with a pack; Danny didn’t have a clear view of what was in it. When his friend came over to the table he put it on the table and it was a bag of weed that they were ready to roll up and smoke. Danny looked very surprised. His eyes opened so wide like they have never did before, he got so nervous and scared he decided to go to the bathroom just to get his mind together. As he looked at himself in the mirror he had visions of the talk him and his dad had on New Years about making the right decisions and choosing the right friends.

As he was collecting his mind and thinking he heard a loud bang. “Danny come on out your missing out on the party, we got some good stuff out here for you”. As he stood in the bathroom he got more nervous. “Alright guys Im on my way out just a second”. As he washed his face off he felt the sense of fear run down his face and into the sink. He unlocks the door slowly and opens the door walks towards his friends to check up on them. “Danny Boy come here, take one it would make you feel so good afterwards trust us we been here done this”. Danny decides to pick one up and look at it, as he moves it slower towards his mouth he gets this feeling that he isn’t doing the right thing. He hurries and throws it on the table and tells his friends he is leaving and will see them Monday.

When he gets home he sits on his bed thinking and wondering “Why did I even go to the party, I should of listened to dad”. As he is thinking this dad walks into the room and asks him what went on. Danny tells his dad the whole story and the truth. The father is very proud of his son for doing the right thing. “Son I am very proud of you and hope you stay like this cause its only better for you and your education”. Danny felt good after this talk and promised he won’t do any type of drugs again. 
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J Tartaglia Monologue

Monologue Draft

Well doc it all started that one-day when I was patrolling the corner of 12th and Rooney I was just getting off my shift. I sat down in one of the out side seats and had my self a cup of coffee. I remember because I ordered a medium and, I got a small, so I made her send it back. If I only knew what was going to happen next I would have kept the coffee, and would have not have gotten mad over it. So she was on her way sending the coffee back.             I lit a cigarette, and start to smoke it.

            All of the sudden this man with a ski mask come running out of a bank with a bag of money, runs into the coffee shop and takes everyone hostage. I sit there in a shock, my cigarette drops from my mouth into the coffee. The only thing I can think of is what is this, man, this psycho going to do to these people in this coffee shop. So then next thing I do is stand up and call for back up. But before I could call backup waitress make a run for it but as she got to the door the man shoots the waitress in the back of the head. She fall face first out the front door. She just was lying there with a hole in her head, and covered with her own blood. This is the first time in my career that I have seen any one get shot like that. I was sick to my stomach and was about to puke but I held my head up, and took it as it was. I yelled at him saying “come out with your hands up this is your last chance for you to give up or it will be by force.” Then all of the sudden the back up comes. I turn around to explain the situation, and I got shot in the arm from the guy, blind shooting out the front door. A tear comes running down my face. I start to think about my wife and kids, and all of my accomplishments vanishing into thin air. I start to black out and I feel numb, is this death? I was thinking to myself, or am I still alive. The next thing I noticed is a bright light and I think I’m in heaven because I see my kids and wife, but I focus more, and I’m is a hospital, I turn on the news, and the anchors said that they caught the bank robber, and that was my moment of peace and the feeling of accomplishment.

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It’s cool! I don’t trip!

Dest, how could you do this to me? How could you let this happen? I thought you cared about me! You said we were like twins, I guess you really meant it. I should have been Sadie, but No! I was lil’ Dest. When we were young, we did everything together. You told me so many things; you opened up so many doors for my one set mind. You were a sweet little girl. Always smiling, laughing, acting like a kid. I admired everything you did.

Then, you changed. Dressing, talking, and acting differently. You started to tell me that the only way I’m going to get with a cute boy is if I dress like this: tight clothing, low cut shirts, shirts with the belly hanging out, hip jeans, and make-up. All this and we were only in the 5th grade remember running around in Meade schoolyard. You were right though it worked, even though my boys weren’t real cute but they were okay. Then we got even older, 7th graders, we stop talking. I wasn’t good enough for you, so I changed started mocking you and all the other girls. By 8th grade we were cool again, twins. We went everywhere together, did everything together! Started sneaking out of school to go see boys that I didn’t even know! Letting them feel on me even though I didn’t want them to. You did so I did!

That’s when I met him! That boy who sees me on the train but don’t even say hi. After all I gave him, all he gives back is nasty gleams. It doesn’t bother me that much any more. It still hurts me seeing him with girls, he never took the time out to be with me. It wasn’t even two weeks after it happened and he was already seeing somebody else. But it’s cool. I don’t trip.

I’m in high school now. So many people around me are saints. So many people never had that experience. They’ll judge me if I told them. Some people know, but I know they judged me. Just by the look on their faces when I told them. But it’s cool. I don’t trip. LIES! It’s starting to hit me, HARD! (Punches fist) I wish I could go back in time and do it all over. So many things that could of happened because I was a rookie. It didn’t even occur to me then, I had faith in him because you said “He knows what he’s doing.”

I blame you for everything. It’s your fault I’m in this state now. That day plays over and over every time I go there, Allegheny. Every time I see their faces. I’m embarrassed. I was embarrassed then and I’m embarrassed now. I remember sitting on that step 2:00 in the afternoon, I didn’t know who step it was. I didn’t even know the area; I didn’t even know that person. Yet I was waiting for him to come and get me. I was alone, I should have been in school, but I was there. You weren’t a phone call away either, you were gone bye-bye. Sun beaming down on my back, then his voice “Yo”. My smile, his smile, his hand, and his muscles pulling me off that step. The walk across the street, front door squeak open, squeak closed, his dad cooking, stairs squeaking, door closing, plop on the mattress, music videos, and then the black screen.

The moment his hand touch my thigh, my heart started to pound. I could feel my face get heated, it was on fire. My body started to shake, and then his voice “ Don’t be nervous”. He got closer, dead in my face. He reached his hand out and touched my face. At first it was a kiss, next came the tongue. He laid me down and started to kiss my body. I suddenly blacked out from the panic. When I opened my eyes I was naked. How shameful I felt, I wanted to cry. He pulled down his pants, boxers and all. His body touched mines. I wanted it to stop so badly but I didn’t, I let it happen because I wanted to please you. I wanted to be grown up for you, because you told me too.

All the things I did for you! But what did you give me in return? Nothing. Nothing at all! Oops I lied, you gave me shame, and you gave me the reason to walk with my head down. You’re the reason why I’m so easy. You’re the reason why, why, why … I… No, no it can’t be! No, I can’t stop it. I can’t take control of my life. I been brain washed by her. Oh my, I don’t want to believe this but I must. I can say no! It’s my fault because I refuse to say NO! I refused!

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Shannon Powers

Hazy’s Monologue



 “ Why? Why can’t you leave me be in peace? I hear your voice; you’re in the water, the trees, and the very air around me! Your voice calls out to my soul the part of me that still belongs to you. “Hazy Hazy” you call Stop! Stop I say! Please let me go! Let go of the world that so brutally let go of you. Eclipse I felt you die, I felt your blood soak through my very bones. I held you as the light, that warm silver light that lit my eternal flame, I watched helplessly as it went out never to light again. Is that why you cannot leave me? Are you too worried about my well being? I’m fine I tell you I no longer blame myself for your death. Eclipse I love you but I’ve found someone who can put warmth in words and touch. You no longer have the warmth of the living. The warmth I crave at night when the chill mountain air seeps through my covers. I’ve found a voice that makes my heart race with happiness. Shouldn’t you be happy for me? No matter what changes I will never forget you. I’m begging you from the very depths of my being to move on. Move on and let me be, when you go I will make sure you live on. The sky we once flew in on bright sunny days still holds the memory of our laughter as you turn left and never right. Eclipse its time to take that first right turn. I will move on with you I will protect and revive your memory. I have strength enough for the both of us now. So go ahead move on in your new life, I’ll be fine. I’ve found love again my fire reignited and I’m ready to move on. Though I’m still afraid to move on with out you, when you leave I will be sure to feel the rightness of moving on. Are you worried for your brother? Roziel’s ok now, he’s found his way in life and he two is slowly moving on. Are you ready? Go on then and move on in to the after life. Fly through the bright amber skies and await your family. We will met again one day and when we do you’ll find a happy life with us once more. Move on and let our once intertwined spirits float freely. Good-bye and thank you for the life you helped me keep. I will love and cherish your memory for the rest of my days.” 

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The Complaint By:Tyler creighton

 The complaint

"Unit 3 is over and no more benchmarks”

 I should be happy right? Well I’m not.

 I am not usually happy when I'm in this class or sleep, one or the other.

"Do we have to do this, is there any other options"?

"No none miss Parker no other options just your monologues"

I wonder why do we have do this, how will the benefit me if I know how to write a paper about people's conversations.

"You guys have until Wednesday to have almost a completed draft in class"

I’m pretty upset at this point, I don't understand the project and on top of that I don't want to do it, I'm such a busy person I have dance, friends, family, I have a life.

This project was assigned Friday and is due Wednesday, should be enough time right.

Well seems to me like this was over night, I can with all the other homework's also I feel like I have no time to do this.


Friday night, the night the assignment was given instead on planning what I should do I stayed on the computer on a chat until 3 in the morning.

"Maybe I can get an extension I will tell her something is wrong"

Saturday 10:30AM "Hi Ms. Powalter this is Sophia Parker and I was wondering could I have a mini extension I don't understand this project, I have no idea about it and I don't have ugh time to do it this weekend".

12:00PM "Hi Miss Parker sorry but no one will have an extension on this project think very hard an idea should come to you then make it your own, this doesn't have to be the best ever, that's why it's called a draft.

"Well that didn't work maybe I will work on it after I come home from dance class since I don't have anything else to do.

The same day some one asked me to with them to the movies a little later on that day so I decided to work on this all Sunday since no one does anything Sunday too.

I ended up trying another excuse.

12:30 PM Sunday "Hi Ms. Powalter me again, how is your weekend going, about our monologues, may I have a bit extra time or at least the day in school to work on this, something like a work period.

2:30PM Sunday " Hi miss Parker as it was said to you earlier there is no excuses for missing work, you can try and turn in something, because something is always better than nothing.

(Long blank stare)


"Well since I am being forced to write this maybe I should begin to write it so I can just get it over with. Those were the exact words that left my mouth before the idea of working stepped out behind them.

Ok seems like excuses aren’t working so maybe a complaint will.


Monday 6:30 PM “Hey Ms. Powalter I don’t mean to bother you but, I feel like you don’t care about my situations and the reasons why I cant do this paper or at least why I cant have it in on time, I feel like this project is being forced on the students and very rushed due to the fact that we our missing two days of school next week. Also I believe that I have a small amount of carp-tunnel in the hand that I right with and I feel like you don’t care about my inner and my outer feeling’s”.

8:30PM “Hi Sophia I am sorry about your wrist maybe you should go to the doctors about that but this assignment is not written it is typed and you don’t have carp-tunnel if you are able to type this many excuses and a complaint’s about this project”.


Time begins to move faster, I have one night to at least have a storyboard and some of this monologue typed, there’s no more time for excuses so seems to me all there is left to do is type … After I get home from dance.

I feel like nothing worked, no excuses, no complaints, nothing worked. And I still don’t have an idea.


“Mom do you know something that I could write about and make a monologue of?”

“Sorry Sophia the only type of monologue I can help you with is the play”.

“How about you dad do you know anything?”

His response was “Umm remind me what’s a monologue again?”

Maybe I can get some help with this project in class tomorrow; class will be pretty helpful, reading aloud some of the winning monologues and gathering thoughts should help also…

Those were my last thought’s about this mini assignment until the night before it is due and I’m up until next morning typing nothing.

I can predict how Thursday is going to go.


“Hi class lets take your seats and take out you completed and printed monologue.”

“Morning Ms. Powalter, funny I found an idea to type about after all this pain with this assignment”

“I guess I will right about how “fun” and “easy” this journey was to completing this paper and how I feel about this assignment”.









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Michael Hall                                                Heist                                                 

“ Arnold Hart, Parole denied”. The words echoed and sunk into my mind like a submarine but as I looked up I remembered his face. He didn’t look mad or happy but just a look of justice. “Why did I do that!” those words were more like an explosion that just blew my mind apart but I had only myself to blame. I looked at the mirror and saw that the face that committed the crime had changed. It had grown a full beard and had few more wrinkles than I remembered. It had grown up and realized what it did was stupid and wrong. If only I could rewrite time and redo my life then everything would be ok and I would have a second chance. “Why?” that word was like a cool breeze over my mind but all I could do is sit and remember. Remember what drove me to that event. The yells of other inmates  


It was my fourth job interview and I was sure I had it. When the call came that I didn’t get the job, I was shocked and angry. “Why does this only happen to me” I thought, not fully thinking. I was at my wits end. Bills were stacking up and debt became my worst enemy. I got a letter in the mail with the big and red word “Foreclosure”. I was alone and the thoughts of me being homeless were becoming a reality. Then I saw it, the gun I had bought to protect myself at night. It had a strange color that day like for some reason it was shinning and telling me the answer to my problem.


I then thought that robbing a stupid connivance store would be a good start, but they don’t have enough money so without a thought I said “A bank”. “What was I thinking?” Now looking back it was by far the stupidest thing ever. Then I saw the bank. It looked simple enough, but as life shows nothing really is. I had the gun, ran into the bank with the feeling of excitement and regrets. I don’t know where the feelings came from but they were present. Then with the gun pointing I told the man “GIVE ME THE MONEY” but I said it with manners.


I didn’t see the alarm button behind the counter, or the nervous banker that pressed it. Before I even knew what had happened the police were already there with a gun up yelling freeze. I didn’t know what to do or how to even act but the trigger had been pulled and a policeman was on the ground bleeding. 


Hi Grandpa.

“Did you start your letter for English class BJ”

No mom but I’ll go start it now.


Hey grandpa,


 I’m your grandson Billy, I just turned 11 a few days ago. Mom says we share the same birthday, which is why I’m named after you, Bill Samuel Johnson. Mom use to tell me about how you wanted the perfect grandson, someone to take to baseball games, to play catch with in the yard, and to teach how to fish in the river. I’m in the 5th grade now I have good grade, and I love to play sports. Mom says that I’m like you when you were in school. She also tells me about how you fought in the war and won lots of medals because you were very brave. When I grow up, I want to be a soldier just like you. Mom tells me a lot about you and how you used to be there for her.

We live in the house that you raised mom in and she says that you never ever wanted a black person to set foot in this house. Why don’t you want black people in our house? My dad lives here with us in the house, I wonder what would happened if you found out he was living with us? I really love my dad, he doesn’t act different than any other white person. I have always asked mom that but she never wanted to respond to me. She always said “Baby I really do not know.” Or “Billy can you stop asking questions!” So, after a billion times of getting those answers, I just stopped asking her.

One night, I heard mom talking to grandma. She was saying how you were disappointed in her because of the type of men mom liked. She talked about how you wanted only one race in the family’s bloodline, full breed Italian. She also says that you really hated black people. My dad is black do you hate him? Because mom talks about how he tried so hard to make you like him. My dad is a great person and loves me and mom so much, he takes care of us and always will, he says.

Sincerely, Billy

P. S. Even though I haven’t met you I still love you grandpa and always will, I just hope you love me too.





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Til Death Do Us Part

          Well I guess this it. It’s a wrap. I’m doing the right thing, Ma says it’s about time that I settle down. Who am I playin’? Ma’s not marrying this chick, I am. *Splashes face with water* C’mon Ty, whatchu sayin’? She is beautiful, she got brains...she is faithful. I’m blessed. *Looks at reflection* My ex’s I haven’t talked to in years, are blowin’ up my phone. Talkin’ bout some, ‘I’ll be damned if I see anotha chick on yo arm’. Well alright B. The boys say I’m crazy. They bet bread that I won’t last 6 months before going back to my sideline. Is that it? Am I foldin’? *Begins tying his tie* Na, its just that I been barely gettin’ by on my own, my check book is getting tight. *Ties the tie too tight* But I know if anything, she’ll help. That’s what all this marriage hype is ‘bout, right? *Loosens tie* All I know is, I promise I won’t be like my pops. Like my boy Cole said I refuse to bring my boy or my girl in this world when I ain’t got shit to give ‘em, and I’m not with these other boys who be knocking girls up and skate out. It’s a cold world.

          Her girls have been pipin’ this day up since I got one knee and became more of a man. I apologized to her already for the small wedding, we just don’t got have the money we need. But I followed up with a promise, that after things chill out we can renew our vows the right way. There ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of, unlike some of my bros I’m alive. That’s somethin’ to celebrate. I clean up nice, I mean look at me. *Looks in the mirror* I would kill for them to see me here. To see her. *Tighter* Her pop doesn’t seem to like me too much. I’m not surprised though. A single black man, with a high school diploma, making minimum wage is always a target. On the flipside, her ma’s been callin’ me son since we met. I guess it’s mother’s instinct *Loosens*. 2 minutes until I’m out there, with her. And that’s all that matters, me and her. We doing this together. When I asked her to marry me, she said yes. She made it clear, she trusts me, my ride or die. I’ve let down too many people in my life, and she won’t be one of them. *Straightens suit out* I’m ready for this. 


Seeing your face every morning kills me. It makes me think of what we had, what I miss, how angry I am at you, how much I want you back so we can try and make this work, how much I love you… I walk by, trying to avoid looking your way in the hopes that you would even try to notice me. Maybe you do, maybe you don’t either way Rafael, you broke my heart.

  It was about a week ago that you broke up with me. I feel like you left me because I didn’t want to have sex with you. I wasn’t easy enough for you. When the topic of sex came up, I told you I wasn’t ready, only because we were only together for 3 months. Then the day after I told you that, we all of a sudden weren’t working out? You claim that you were going through so much, and that you couldn’t handle those situations and me. So am I considered one of your problems? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Even if I am not one of them, you knew that I was here for you. I’m going through that same shit you are but tried to make this work, I knew that you were here for me; well I thought you were. Its just crazy how we were close ass friends for years before we decided to be together and you promised we were going to stay close no matter what..but its obvious that you broke that promise..

  To me, that whole excuse of you “going through to much” is a bunch of bullshit that I will not believe. Do you realize how this makes me feel? Did you stop and think about how this would affect me? No, you didn’t. You thought about yourself like always. And that hurts. I was always here for you, you were all I wanted and needed. I felt like I could be myself around you. You were the only guy that ever made me feel like I mattered or had a purpose in the world, or maybe you just did that in the hopes of getting in my pants…

 My feelings are all over the place. One-minute I’m full of rage, the next I’m trying to smile and feel good about everything to get you off my mind. I’m confused. I’m confused because I am still unaware as to why this situation would even occur. Just a day ago we were all smiles and laughing, holding hands…. and now I cant stand you, I miss you, I’m in regret, part of me wants you back. I don’t know what to do with myself.

  I showed you how much I cared, you knew I had nothing but love for you; you knew that and took advantage of it. I never reveal how I feel. Not to anyone. I told you things that I have never even told my closest friends. So many deep feelings and thoughts because I thought you would listen and help me. But would you like to know what hurts the most Rafael? The fact that I thought you cared… But of course it turns out that I thought wrong.

 I don’t even blame you Rafael. I blame myself for caring too much and letting you in my life. I should have known from the start that you we’re just like the rest. I don’t know what made me even think you were different. I hope that one day, someone does this same shit to you. I want you to feel the pain that I feel. Until then, leave me alone and live your life. I was living my life before you and I’ll keep on living after you. Maybe this is me just trying to get over you, or maybe I just don't care anymore...

Either way Rafael, I will always love you...hopefully we can try this again...until then, take care.