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​I heard the crowd loudly roaring on their feet. The noise was bothering me.  I was shaking on the inside, but on the outside my body was as still as a tree.  I hated playing away from home. I tried not to tell my self what the game meant. Game 7 of the World Series, we we’re up by one run, with two outs, and the bases loaded. Skipper put that rookie Hernandez on the hill, to try and finish it. I put down one finger telling the kid to throw a fastball.

 

Strike one.

 

Next pitch, I put down four fingers telling him to throw the change. I really wanted to fool the hitter here. Pitch was right on the inside corner. I remember the loud yell from the ump.

 

“Strrrrike Twooo!”

 

I looked over at the batter. He was kind of shot and pretty skinny. I knew he was one of his team’s fastest players. He could hit too according the scouting report all though he was in a slump during the series. I looked over at their base runners, then back at the pitcher.

 

The ballpark was silent. I put down two fingers signaling for him to throw his breaking ball. He wound up, with the season on the line. Nervous fans were on their feet, one strike away. The atmosphere was electric. The pitch was on its way. It was coming in at about 74 mph, yet it felt like it was coming towards me slower.

 

The ball curved sharply downward into the dirt. The ump called it low and outside. I had to leave the crouch to block the ball. I looked the base runner back to third.

 

One ball, and two strikes was the count on the batter. I threw down one finger for the fastball once again. I just wanted the kid to throw a strike so maybe we could get a groundball or something.

 

“Come on kid.” I kept thinking.

 

The pitch came in. It was a ball way inside. The batter did an overly dramatic jump out of the box, to show the ump how inside it was.

 

Two balls, two strikes on the hitter. Opposing fans started getting a little bit more rowdy.  I wasn’t sure what I wanted him to throw. I ended up putting down two fingers yet again, signaling another breaking ball. My heart was pumping a mile a minute. The pitch crossed the plate. The hitter checked his swing.

 

It was a full count and I couldn’t believe the ump called that just outside.

 

I ask the ump for time. I could sense the nervousness in the kid. I ran out to the mound, our Skipper right behind me.

Skipper was asking us “What do you feel comfortable throwing him right now?”

The kid told him he thought his fastball or changeup could work. It was also a shock to hear him talk because he had such a thick Dominican accent. Skipper looked over at me for my point of view. I told him that I liked the changeup in this situation. The hitter had to be expecting the heat with a full count, so why not give him the slow stuff to fool him. The ump ran out behind us. He told us to finish up our meeting.

 

Everyone went back to their positions. I threw down my four fingers, which told him to throw the changeup. He went into the stretch. The runners took off.

 

The pitch was a hard hit grounder, towards the shortstop. The runner sprinted out of the batter’s box there was almost no chance to get him at first. I knew the throw was coming towards me. I touched the plate with my foot, knowing that there was a force at any base.

 

I heard people on both sides yelling, “Home, home, throw it home.”  

 

It all came down to this. The runner was barreling towards me. I was so scared yet so focused on what would be the outcome of the play. He stuck his head down toward my chest. The ball was almost in my glove. As the ball hit my glove, I felt as if a freight train had just hit me. I fell back, as the runner fell forward. The wind was beyond knocked out of me. I heard the ump yell something, but the call just blurred out. And then the rest just blacked out. I don’t know how many hours have passed by since all this. I’m really anxious. Can you please tell me what happened?

 

(Door opens and bell ring)

Ms. Brown, now I know that you said I couldn’t come back to your motel, but I have nowhere else to go. (Sigh) If you turn me away I will freeze, it’s 12:00 in the morning and it’s cold outside. It’s not even my fault that I got kicked out of the house this time. Someone, which is my brother,  set me up I just know it. If I tell you what happened will you then let me stay? (Pause)

 

(Walk back and forth) Ok, so I was in my room dancing and singing to my favorite song by Chris Brown, until my mom came in my room. “Joesy, I’m out with a couple of friends so look after your brother until I get back. Oh, and make sure that nothing happens to my crystal my mom gave to me.” When she left I continued to dance and sing. My little brother Joshua came to me saying that he was hungry so I went downstairs with him. He was in a playful mood that he almost knocked over the crystal so I yelled and told him to sit down. After I got him something to eat I went back upstairs. I was minding my own business, when Joshua came to my room again. “ Josey I want a twinkie. Give me a twinkie!” I told him that we didn’t have anymore but he kept saying that we did because the box was on top of the refrigerator. I told him that there was nothing in the box so he got mad. Twenty minutes later I hear a crash downstairs, so I run down to the living room to see what it was. And I see that mom’s crystal was on the floor broken into a million pieces. I panicked and started to pick the pieces up when my mom came through the door.  “AAHH!! Why would you do this to me? I told you to make sure that nothing happens to my crystal and I come back and see this.” “But mom, I didn’t do this, Jousha did.” “I can’t believe that you would blame your little brother for something you’ve done.” “But mom I…” “Stop no more excuses. I can’t take this anymore with you arguing with me or getting into trouble. I’m just done! Get out of my house.” “Mom, you’re going to kick me out because your crystal is broken?” ”No, I’m kicking you out because I’m tired of your drama. You’re always getting into fights, arguing with people, and getting put away. So get out my house.”

 

After we argued I went to my room to pack my things when Joshua came back in my room smiling and laughing. And before I left I tried to tell my mom that it wasn’t me but she didn’t want to hear it. I went to some of my other friends’ houses but their mom don’t like me but I know that you do so that’s why I’m here now. Hoping that you will help me.

 

So can I please stay, I promise that I won’t bother your costumers. I won’t even be here in the daytime; only at night to go to sleep. (Pause) Ok…fine (gets mad) let me go out in the cold to freeze. No shelter, no heat, no food. I thought you would be different from the others but I see that you’re exactly the same. (turns around goes to door then stops)

 

(speaks to herself) Why don’t people like me? I try to do everything for them and they treat me like this. I feel alone, like no one cares. And here I am trying to get help from someone, who I thought I could trust but looks like I can’t. I might as well just steal a key to get a room. That’s it! Why stay outside in the cold when I can just steal a key and be warm. Wait…No… I can’t… she trust me and so does her daughter. We’ve been best friends since 1^st grade. I can’t do this to her, to them. What am I going to do? I try to do everything right but it always seems to come back to bite me. (Cries a little)

 

(turns around to see if she’s still there) You’re really going to send me out there in the cold? What kind of an adult are you? And out of all people, out of the whole world, I thought that at least you would see where I’m coming from. (Mrs. Brown holds up a key) Are you serious? You are giving me a key to a room? (hugs) Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! I’m sorry about what I said earlier, I didn’t mean I, I was just mad that’s all. I promise that I’ll pay you for the all the time I stay. Matter of fact (gets money and hands to Ms. Brown) here is some money for this week.

 

(walks away to room)

As I stand here in a supermarket, seeing this food is like a golden piece of heaven, handed to me for free. Running up and down each isle, ripping and grabbing every piece of junk food putting it into my Jansport. (Stop and Stare) A small open buffet style food cart with Chicken, Mac n’ Cheese, Cabbage, Rice and Mash Potatoes. The thought of this being my first hot meal in two months, drinking my favorite soda, forgetting about the life of hell I would be going back too. (Sigh of relief) (Flashback)

Hey Mom!

Do you remember the first time you and dad took me to the zoo? Seeing the smile on my face as I ran after the birds. Do you remember seeing me cry over, the thought that, the animals were getting hurt in the cage’s? Do you? Because I know I don’t remember.

Panicking, frustrated, realizing the play money from monopoly that once filled my pocket, is now gone. Walking and Walking, getting closer to the line, I shoved my hand inside my pocket, pulling out lint and stolen chips. I realize that 10 minutes of heaven is now a lifetime of hell.

Hey Dad!

Do you remember you and mom teaching me how to ride my bike. Do you remember at night when I thought that the boogieman would get me and how you stayed up all night so that I would know I was safe. Do you? Because I know I don’t remember.

Mom and Dad

Do you remember when I said you guys are my hero’s? Do you remember when you asked me what I want for Christmas and I said a brother or a sister. Do you? Because that seems like the only thing I remember about us being together as a family.

Why me?

I lost my mom and my dad all in the same month. I know I’m 18 but I have 3 siblings, who need somewhere to continue on living. But I promised to be my brother and sisters keeper. Signs of stress, Tiara and Tiana failing school, Isaiah getting into trouble with the law.

Mom!

Dad!

Are you out there? If so I need help, I’m tired, I want to give up, send me help please!

Lord please, Mom and Dad, you guys are missed everyday and we love, we will see you guys again one day. (Walk off crying)

 

 

 

 

Aquí es mi y mi otro hermano, Mateo. Estamos adorable. Jajaja.

Aquí es un foto de me.

Yo toco teclado. Aquí es un video de me jugar "River Flows in You" por Yiruma, uno de mi favorito pianistas.

Me encanta juego fútbol mucho. Me gusta también leer, comer (jajaja), escribir, y escuchar música. Los fines de semana, me gusta descansar. Cuando tengo tiempo libre, me gusta correr. Odio jugar videojuegos, y no me gusta nada ver la tele. ¿Y tú? ¿Qué te gusta hacer? ¿Te gusta juegas fútbol? ¿Qué es tú equipo favorito? Mi favorito banda es "Mumford and Sons". ¿Y tú? 

Soy es morena y más o menos baja. Soy deportista, boba, y por lo general inteligente. Depende del día, soy habladora. ¿Y tú? ¿Cómo eres? ¿Hablas un poquito inglés?


Bueno, me voy porque tengo que estudiar.
Con cariño,
Leah

            No, I refuse to ever let them break me. They would have feared my look back on the cold Philly streets, but now, I have no power over what they do. I guess that’s what happens when the same people have imprisoned you for 17 years. No, this isn’t prison anymore it’s Hell. What they do to us . . . I bet if we were a different color, we’d have the same primetime of that Iraq torture prison. Of course, that’s not the case. If you tell what goes on, you’ll not only get laughed at and called stupid, but you’ll get it 10x worse than what you told happened.

 “What you want NIGGER!”

 “I’ll take the cream of wheat sir,” I always say, with a smile. My brain has been programmed to say this, even though under my skin, I’m hot like Mt. Saint Helen in 2004.

 “Good, cause you ain’t getting no banana MONKEY!”

 “Oh no sir, I don’t want that, too much potassium for my diet.” That’s how you get’em back. They never like it when you use “big words”. The accomplishment felt good until the expected happened. Every guards fist was flying at my face, while my legs instinctively dropped and curled up. 2 minutes and the occasional n-word passed before I got up, brushed my jumpsuit, and walked off.

  I go out to the yard to play basketball with my best friend. No one knows his real name, but he goes by “Silk”, though he’s almost 90 years old and wrinkly. I though about what I’m going to do when he passes, when the ball he shot missed and hit a guard smack in his head. I remember saying, “RUN NOW!” but it was useless to say to him, he could barely walk. I turned to see about 20 guards, tasers out, and every inmate outside. Everyone was looking at Silk, who was crying.

  “NIGGER YOU MINE!” bellowed one of the guards as he raced at Silk. He swung his big meaty fist and hit Silk in his jaw, retracting with a couple teeth. That must have been the cue. Every guard rushed in to get their licks, fueled by the smell of flesh opening up revealing pearl white bone. The horde of guards retreated, revealing an unrecognizable, close to death, Silk. As he lay there unconscious, inmates running furiously over to him, I could already see that he was dead. Somewhere, dormant inside my heart, a spark ignited the fuel that the guards’ 17-year-old abuse provided.

 

“What the HELL is wrong with you! It was an accident! You didn’t have to beat him to death! Fear was no longer a registered word in my vocabulary. Seeing my friend, my diary, the man I told everything too, my mentor dead at my feet, that overfilled the cup of hate I had towards the guards.

 “Boy, you better watch your tongue.”

If I hadn’t looked at him, I wouldn’t of saw the sheer fright in his eyes. He knew what he did was wrong, but he tried to keep his composure. Standing on a large boulder in the middle of the yard, the Death Valley sun beaming at my forehead, I did what I hadn’t done since my trial: spoke my mind. “My brothers, and that’s exactly what we are now. Not by blood, but by bond and hardship. We can no longer allow these oppressive tyrants to slaughter our souls! We can no longer stand back and watch one of our brothers get the leather belt across his face. The day for revolution has come, and this damn sure will not be televised! We pray to be delivered from evil every night, today YOU HAVE THAT CHOICE! MAKE IT!” Silence washed over the entire yard while I awaited the fist of these human devils.

 “Amen” came a voice echoing through the crowd.

 A roar erupted, drowning out the sounds of 400 inmates piling on to 70 guards.

 A discreet but extensive letter was sent to each inmate, apologizing to each one, promising a better future for us captured survivors.

 

 

“Miguel, wake up! It’s snowing!” My baby sister scared the heck out me, but in doing so, she got me up and running towards a nearby window. Pull the blinds up in a flash. It’s no lie. Snow was falling from the gray clouds in the sky above. Falling, falling beautifully. A smile appeared on my face. It was my first time seeing snow. Seeing snow reminds me what happened about a year ago.

I go back to Puerto Rico. It’s a place where you would never see snow down there. You’d see the beauty of the Tropics, the white sandy beaches, the crystal clear Caribbean Sea, palm trees swaying in the warm tropical wind that would flow over us. My community was a great community. My family and I knew everyone around us, and everyone knew my family and me. We would walk into stores for buying food, clothing, etc, and they would say hello or wave to us, and then we’d get into conversations about how has our day been, what’s been going in your life, the latest gossip, chats like that. (The gossip refers to my Mom.) My community was a community I loved. So if it was a good community, why did I leave Puerto Rico? It turns out I had no choice. Like all good things, they must come to an end. We struggled financially for a certain time. I knew it. We couldn’t make payments on our home. It wasn’t looking good.

We had to move out, but where? The answer was kind of obvious. The United States. We packed up what we needed, clothing, food, merchandise that mattered to us. Stuff like that. We made sure we didn’t forget the papers and passports. My Mom kept nagging Dad about it. One more of those, and Dad was ready to flip out. I was ready to flip out as well. I mean, I know she’s want to make sure we don’t forget anything we need, but it’s like she pokes us about it. She’s like “Hey, hey. You get the papers and passports. Did you? We can’t forget them.” Okay, we won’t the damn thing! I ready to here from Dad, but he never said it. Even when we got into the country, he stayed cool.

Speaking of coming into the country, America was a new experience for us. We entered JFK International Airport. That’s in New York City. We saw buildings reach up high in the sky, many automobiles, so many people in suits. There were so many things in New York City. However, there are some bad things in America I heard of. Lots of violence, an obesity problem (which was kind of obvious), and “party hooters.” The first night in our new American home, and the party hooters I told you about, yeah… it was a rough night for our family. At first I didn’t think this could work.

5 days being in our new home, I told Mom, “I don’t this could work.” She asked what I meant. I told her, “We moving to America. I mean it’s been rough these past few weeks.” Mom gave me a solution that she thought right off the top of her. “Give it time.”

With that, I think about these past months of being here, and well… she was right. Aren’t all moms right? Anyway, Mom finds a job at the New York Times headquarters. She works in a normal cubical like any other person in office. She just checks and edits a person’s article. Sounds boring. Here this, because of her work on, she got promoted to being the editor’s secretary. Dad has a job on art. I must have forgotten to mention that Dad is an artist. Loves to draw, paint, anything to make his art pop out, to inspire, to… make you feel. Apparently, what happen to start of Dad’s new art career. He made an art store on corner of where we live now, and a contractor comes into his store (I’m saying it from him), he said the contractor loved his art. Every art piece in the store had a theme to it. He offered him a deal that Dad could not refuse. He would sell his art around the world, to art museums, galleries, etc. He would supply him with his own art materials. Hearing all this from Mom and Dad, I’m like, “Wow.” I’m just amazed that we have come Puerto Rico in a financial crisis, and here we are. School is working out for me, too. I made good friends during these past months. I even showed them one of Dad’s paintings, I hear ooh’s and aah’s. One of my teachers said, “It’s remarkable. Your Dad must have an incredible mind to make such fantastic imagery.”

So yeah, I miss Puerto Rico, my old friends, my old community, but I have a new community that I like now. It’s my new home, have new friends, and I experience a weather change up here as well. I’m so use to warmth of Puerto Rico. Now I have to get used to cold winters, but at least I see a new kind of precipitation. And I can do cool activities in it as well. So I guess that wraps up my internal monologue. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going sledding.

 

Kyler Jones           

11/7/1

 

I find myself silent, black hoodie up, lying down, arms covered over my eyes blocking the sun, what I see is the grass. The grass. And then-flashback.

 

 I remember it was summer and this entire mini prairie that I crouch on now was alive with sunflowers, and various tall plants, like lavender. I didn’t know much about plants then (don’t know much about the now),but I knew there was something beautiful about this area that made me subconsciously venture there at my spare time, accompanied with my dog. The grass that I lay on now, was bright green and smooth then, and I always thought, this is here to stay, they-can-not-touch-it. As worn down and small fraction of what’s left of nature, it was still monumental to me, surpassing the awe of any skyscraper or city landscape you could see, To this day it is like a dying paradise. The grass passage way, always polished with dew, and the tall plants diverse with sunflowers, rabbits, spiders, hidden animals of all sorts, buzzing and moving with life. It was easy to get lost, and ignore the suburban wasteland on the other side of the creek.

 

So my spirit is back to the present now, in the same position, at birds eye view, I look as if I had fallen down and shielding myself from a bomb above. And then the grass I glimpse at, the grass of the now, the entire pathway, scarred by the tracks of construction machines. I’m still shielding myself, but I look away from the gruesome grass, and I try to look up ahead at the rest of the pathway. I always knew the pathway was finite. And at the end was more houses, but this time, the lovely trees that used to shelter the lost animals in it, were moving in the distance. I found this scary at first, for the fact that they were moving, but then I realized that their actually being commanded to move by the construction workers- and I’m scared at that fact even more. I sit up, and something is in my stomach. It’s the deer. The deer I saw a couple of weeks ago, there were so many that time. They were hidden, untouchable. But you saw them prancing so closely all along the half wood. Half wood, I should say nearly wood. And then they just disappeared.

 

‘ Oh yes I remember the deer, yes they’re shooting them off now because they are so overpopulated and lost out of their natural habitat.’ Said Justine Pierce.

 

Justine Pierce was a middle class, woman of bold age and bold wrinkles. She works at the Cobbs Creek Environmental Branch in Yeadon. She’s seen the same things I’ve seen. And cried the same tears, when the water department destroyed the land around the creek, last summer.  I met her a last month, those were words she told me.

 

I watched a documentary a couple days ago called “End-Civ”, I remember a clip where an anonymous Earth First! Member talks about how they mark the trees they will leave during clear cuts. I thought about how those trees were scarred forever, as the WWII Jewish holocaust survivors were scarred for life with tattoos. Clear cuts are a holocaust. The Jews were devoured for profit, and the trees are devoured for profit.

 

Bears, I hear the sound of bears. Loud grizzly bears screaming, I want them to be bears. But I know they are the sounds of chainsaws and machines. And then there’s the laughter of the big bellied construction workers. They leave their coffee cups, Dunkin Donut wrappers, and gasoline tanks in on the soil. But I know I can’t be angry at them, because I know that they are just trying to make a livin’.I know they need to eat.

 

I walk to where there was once a beautiful landscape of trees, and I see a broken trashed up grave. And the trees, the trees, all of them piled up, past my head. Then I remember how in war they pile up the dead bodies, without proper burials. The soldiers get proper burials.  I saw only a couple trees left, they were all scarred with the X’s, I saw a black cat run up the trees as my dog Poncho went after it. Then I remember all the animals that make these trees their homes. The nests these trees provide, the oxygen, they shelter the tops soil so that life can grow.

Between the sound of the construction workers laughing as they tore down trees on the other side of creek, the loud industrial roars of the chainsaws, why do I not feel shame. Why do I not feel the tears? I’m afraid to feel, but I’m even more afraid not to. 

If pain is the only thing I can feel, than let me have the most miserable life I can. I don’t see the rationality in destroying your planet in the name of human progress.The earth is a finite resource, in fact it's not a resource it's a living thing. It’s not sanity to kill everything, in the requirements of a technological God? You can’t pay for the air you pollute, the water you blacken, the animals and land that we gobble up and replace with these deserts we call cities. We’re all guilty for when the time comes when we realize that our children can not eat money.

Aazimah Muhammad 

11/17/11

Monologue​



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. 

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.

11/10/11

Captured

       (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!

 

​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”

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. 

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. …

(Pleading)

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?

​11-17-11

Gabby Santaniello
Monologue

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? 

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?

(Pause)

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)

Victoria Yarbrough

November 9, 2011

Monologue

 

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.

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

​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!

  

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

  

​(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)

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.

​ “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. 

Monologue Draft

Well doc it all started that one-day when I was patrolling the corner of 12^th 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.

 

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 5^th 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, 7^th graders, we stop talking. I wasn’t good enough for you, so I changed started mocking you and all the other girls. By 8^th 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!

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.”