im not sure if you can do this but here is a monougue i made for my english class. Hope you like it, but please tell me if you dont. i need to hand this in as a grade so i would love any critiscm. :]
Adam seventeen years old
ah damn, another party, another image I must portray. Two and a half hours I must wear my newest mask, never letting it slip. Never letting the elite see my true form. Never letting them see the secret shattered life I've been forced into living. I must juggle my identity to fit their liking. They're all the same, all wearing identical custom made masks and painted smiles. All fighting for the same power, the same money. With false intentions they'll ask about my father, "Hows the business, how is he doing?". Little do they know my father is a masked stranger, a mere shadow lingering in the backround.
For a hundred and fifty minutes my mother will rag on about my success in school, how popular I am. Yeah right, the only friend I have is my good old pill bottle. She allows me to walk freely where I often can't, never letting me down. (walks over to mirror, buttons up his blue collared shirt, his arms hang loose, shielding the scars he has made.) "Be a gentleman", is what my mother will say. As if she has the slightest idea about being a lady.On the outside she's well mannered,a perfect mother. Hell no! ( Picks up his untouched jeans from the chair. He flips pants from side to side, examining them. He slips them on, zips the fly and fastens the button. Deep in thought he mechanically puts on his shiny, polished shoes.)
Mother, a true high society queen. She prances on the platformed stage like a well trained ballerina . (She's) graceful, never showing stress, only revealing her beauty. Unfortunately all dances must end. The inevitable last chord is played when she enters our house. The beauty is erased, leaving only a bitter shell, I call mother. She lurks our halls like an unhealed scar. Always there, painful, dirty, distressing, never letting a moment slip unnoticed. Uncurable. Infecting my childhood memories with undeniable anguish.( He walks to the mirror, takes a final look.) The perfect costume for a perfect image.( He picks up his watch from the desk, sits on the bed. Latches the watch's band around his wrist and checks the time.)
[This message has been edited by nina1522 (03-22-2009 09:15 PM).]