Sticks & Stones (Male or Female Monologue)

Background Info: The final chapter, the end of abuse what will happen?

Sticks and stones will break my bones… but names? Names I will remember forever. For inside the names lies the monster. It creeps across the floor and snatches me before I can see it coming. “Slut, Whore, Fat, Ugly, Unloved, Worthless”… the list goes on & on. You would think that the words would hold no power, but they do. They slither into the mind, onto the skin, become a part of me and eviscerate every shred of self-worth I hold inside.

There is no way to truly express it what it does to someone who hasn’t been there; the pattern of pain stains each soul with its own unique brand of misery. It rips away the person I want to be and makes me shrink into myself to the sanctuary I’ve created there. But the sanctuary is only a temporary stay of execution from the madness that haunts me.

Yet I walk through the world, passing those around me who are unaware of the pain, the insanity and the hell I am in. If I smile pretty, they’ll never know. They’ll never see the invisible scars that are fused into my soul. I learned early on that life is always what you get but never what you want.

For years, trapped, like a caged little child, within the night I lie shivering in the cold; Hoping for a hero, a knight in shining armor that would be blind to my stains and love me in spite of myself. Praying for a freedom, a peace in the night; I tried to find the eternal darkness to be finally be liberated, but it eluded me.

So I walked dark paths, lived in a twisted distorted version of life; like being held under dark murky water with just a tiny measure of oxygen to sustain me. There in the dark I am taking the smallest amount of breath that I can to survive. Always feeling dizzy and scared as hell, as if each breath I take is going to be my last.

And then one day, one wonderful, glorious nothing special about it, ordinary day, someone reached out, took my hand and pulled me out of the water and I took my first real breath in a long time. The sharp pain hit my lungs as I drew it in… but it was a good pain, a healing pain… and the pain reminded me that I am still alive! That it isn’t over as long as I draw breath, that my past doesn’t determine my future, and most of that I have something I haven’t seen in a very long time, hope. Just a tiny little bloom, but if I nurture it, love it and believe in it… it will grow.

I realized that this is the way most of us are. We are all so sure that we are living but inside we are dying… and it makes us bitter, to ourselves, to those around us and we find ourselves hurting those we love the most… and if we were to lose one of them we would sit and cry if only… if only. But why do we wait until it’s too late? Why do we pretend everything is just fine when all we really want is for someone to hold us and tell us that we are going to be ok… that the child inside of us is still alive, that it never really died, it was just hiding waiting for a safe time to come out. Hold out your hand… and see what happens.

Give it all away and come back to life, choose to make yourself whole; and breathe in freedom once more. Feel the spring coming and the new life that is on its way! Like me, it’s a choice you have to make and it’s waiting for you so what are you waiting for?

Can you smell it? Can you hear it? Dare you believe it? Just Hold on… Can you feel it? The air is coming close your eyes now… and breathe.

I'm telling you (Male or Female Monologue)

Background info: Local Gossip is confronted with “inner self” (Walks in looking completely disgusted)

Oh, you so won’t believe some people…I mean Puuhlease…don’t they know gossip is a sin? Always talking about this one and gabbing about that one… Whisper whisper that’s all you ever hear. How can this youth church grow with all the gossip that goes on? You should all be ashamed of yourselves.

I mean, look at Jessie, she’s always got a story bout someone and have you seen her life? Girl, clean up your backyard first cuz you got some junk. Did you know that she used to smoke? Yep like a chimney. And here she is talking about so and so who did this and that.

Then we have the “Twins” Guess and What. Boy do they like to talk. If one doesn’t say it the other one will. Come on! They chit chat about ABSOLUTELY EVERYONE. Like those girls have any room to even open their mouths. One of them sneaks out of the house all the time and Lord knows what she is up to, while the other one…well let’s just say I heard that she won’t be needing a chastity belt. But that’s just between you and me.

Then there’s Thomas, no doubt that boy needs help, spreading rumors like nobody’s business. Him of all people…Mr. oops I shouldn’t have cheated on that test. Yeah what a perfect person he is. He’s always telling someone about what one of you did. Yeah one of YOU! And don’t none of you start cuz I know your lives too.

I know what you did (points to anyone in audience) and you (points to another) yeah I even know about you (turns and points to self in mirror…jumps startled) Oh not you, you don’t gossip, you just share and that is because you love everyone and want to make their lives better right? (Image shakes its head no) Don’t shake your head at me. How can you of all people say I gossip? I “share” because I “care” (Image looks doubtful) Now don’t give me that look I am not like that. Who have I hurt? Name one person. (Image gestures to audience) Them? No way, they know I only have the “best intentions” I mean…you see…I just want to…help, year help. You know, make it better. It’s not like I talk to everyone, just a select few so they can pray with me. Yeah that’s it, we need to pray about it right? So I am just gathering people to pray. So I don’t always confirm all my facts but the important thing is that we pray right? (Turns away from mirror…satisfied…but still clueless) Well I’ll talk to you all later I gotta go find some people to ummm “pray” with me.

(Walks off, grabs nearest person and whispers in their ear as they leave)

Just a Touch (3-part Female monologue - but can be revised for Male)

Background info: Three dressed in black (one gothic, one preppy and one plain) are frozen on stage in various positions.

The Goth raises her head and begins to speak

You try to label me, but you try in vain. I am label-less. I am not popular. But I am social. I am not an outcast. But I stand apart. I am not intelligent, I am deep.

You call me a punk, or a goth, or simply a freak. Because of the things I do; the clothes I wear. My self-mutilation. Done by knife or needle or ink. It doesn’t matter. To you it’s just a game. If you get game-over, you can start again. But I am trapped, lost in the mindless sorrow that I can’t escape or explain.

All these little things I do. Like piercing my body. Like tainting my skin. Like giving my body freely to those that I think care.

Can’t you see? All I want is a touch...maybe if I reach out just this once…

Freezes with hands toward heaven

Background info: The “Plain Jane” on the opposite side raises her head and begins to speak.

I’ve decided to give name to my enemy, my guest. And why not? It has, after all, basically moved in, unpacked its poisonous bags, and completely made itself welcome. My constant exposure to my guest has resulted in disastrous conditions, not the smallest of which is the degradation of my very soul. The very things I’ve always put my faith in have been so cruelly exposed to be mirages… wishful thoughts that soon turned into desperate clutches at what small threads of belief I could find lying beneath my fee. Opinions I had of myself, ripped away. Faith I had in my own goodness, laid bare, shown to be a fraud.

So…let’s make things at least proper, socially correct. My guest, my enemy, my destruction, my weakness, after all knows me by name, by heart. It knows exactly what to call me. I’m claiming that right for myself as well now.

I think I’ll just name it…invisible. You see, you never notice me…never reach out…never try to get through. I am right here before you. Maybe if I just reach out and touch…

Freezes with hands toward heaven

Background info: The young lady in the center raises her head and begins to speak.

Some people love me…some people hate me…some people want to be me. I am pretty, outgoing and fun. You look at me and assume I have it all together. But what if I don’t? What if I am dying on the inside? You never get close enough to find out. You let me run around in what you imagine is my perfect little world. Maybe you don’t want to help me, maybe you figure I am getting what I deserve.

I am laughing on the outside but there is loneliness inside that is killing me. I don’t even understand it myself. How can I have so many people around me and still feel such a desperate loneliness. I keep telling myself that if I stay busy enough I won’t notice…but the hole inside me gets larger until I feel like it is going to consume me.

Is there a way to fill this emptiness? Can everything be turned by a simple touch…

Freezes on knees with hands toward heaven.

Funny (Male or Female Monologue)

Background Info: Young man who has hidden years of emotional and physical abuse behind a mask of satirical humor finally confronts his peers and those who have judged him.

You don't know me, and you probably never will. No, please don't stop and stare, I don't like it when you get to close. For my entire life people pass me by, and now I am used to it. Anything else would confuse me. Ok, Ok, I actually have a lot of “friends”. You see, I make people laugh; I'm the 'Funny' guy. Because when people are busy laughing they are not thinking about what is going on in my life, they just think "Man is he funny"... and funny is good.

There are some people that say I'm too funny, that I need to grow up and take life serious. What they don't know is that my life has been serious enough without their help. Sure it is easy to look at me and judge me at face value, but they don't know the real me on the inside.

There are others that think I am bad, bad for myself, bad for those around me. I hope not, I never thought of myself as being bad, just funny. Look, I know I'm not anyone's idea of the perfect person but what's wrong with laughing? Isn't there enough misery in life... laugh it up that's what I say.

I am more comfortable when you ignore the real me, the one I never let you see; I keep him hidden where he is safe. Because I realized a long time ago that if I let you really get to know him, you have the power to hurt him, and that isn't funny. I have been hurt before and I wanted to die, and maybe on the inside I did a little. Do you know what that is like? To find out that the world isn't safe like you thought it was? I found that out early in life. I wanted the world to be a safe place but it didn't work out that way. Do you think I wanted my life like this? Do you think I wanted to lose my innocence? Well it's not a safe world at all. So you are better off to just laugh at it... it's much safer.

Oh I know there are people that don't approve of me and others that only want me around for the entertainment and hey, that's ok. Because if I don't have your approval you leave me alone and that's the way I want it. I don't like it when you are in my life trying to figure me out. It bothers me and I don't want you getting to close. Close isn't safe, you get to close and then you can see things I don't want you to see; secrets about my life that I have hidden from you. Now I know that you will assume what everyone else does, my secrets are bad things I've done. But what if I told you that my secrets were bad things that happened to me? Would it make a difference? Would you accept me then? But you see I don't want you to accept me because you feel sorry for me, I want you to accept me because you like me, for me.

So let me be funny, it's where I am safe, and if you can't let me be funny then just leave me alone. I am laughing through my tears and that isn't funny.

When it's Over (Female Monologue)

Background Info: A young woman approx. 14-25 years old enters looking torn tattered and abused... Cradling a jacket. She is facing herself after making the decision to have an abortion. She faces the audience and begins to tell her story... partly talking to the audience, partly talking to herself and partly speaking to God.

He said it would be easy, that no one would know. Just go quietly and have it done, after all he said it is only a little procedure. He said it was my responsibility to handle it, that I should have been more careful in the first place. I asked him to not make me go alone... he said he would call me later when it was done.

And so I went, alone and scared... not sure what I was doing or why; it had to be the only choice, the right thing to do... didn't it? I mean after all I'm young and I have my whole life in front of me. It was just one little mistake; I can't let that ruin my life... or his.

One of the other girls there began to talk to me her name was Jenny. She was chewing gum nonchalantly and just chatting away. She said this was her second time and that it wasn't a big deal anymore. But her eyes looked hard and hollow, but I just figured that was the type of person she was.

They called my name and in I went. It didn't take long really... just signing some papers, lying on the cold table, and then before I knew it... it was over… and they were right. It really was a simple little process, done quickly and efficiently... afterwards whooshing you out the door so they can get on to the next in line.

That was days ago... I still haven't been home. Did he call that night? I don't really know. Would I have spoken to him? I can't really say. But they forget something. They don't tell you about the ache. Not a pain in your body but a pain that goes deep into your heart and feels like it will never go away. That is why I can't go home. My family will see it on me, the pain that is... I know I won't be able to hide it. Now I understood why Jenny looked like she did. This makes you hard and hollow.

Why didn't they tell me about this part? Where you want to die inside, where you wonder if it really was the only choice. Did I really have to? Was it really my only option? Will God ever forgive me? Will I ever forgive myself? (Collapses on the stage cradling the bundle) I think I would have named her Emily.