Bethany
01-09-2009, 02:20 AM
So basically, I post my poems on a poetry site, and they had this monologue contest. I enjoy writing monologues so much more than poetry because theres complete free range in speaking, you dont have to have anything particular. I won second place for this one. The idea was to make a Character Sketch that lets you into the persons world, something secret and hidden from most people. I choose to write about a woman dealing with the death of her boyfriend. D:
I woke up this morning, well before the alarm went off. I rolled over to cuddle him, but he wasn't there. He's never there anymore, how could he be. He's dead. I feel so empty, my stomach bottomed out and I sat up. "Get a hold of yourself, Autumn." I said out loud. I roll out of bed and stand up to stretch. It's raining. How can I be happy in the rain. I remember one day Charlie and I were walking through the park, and it started raining. I started to run but Charlie grabbed me by the waist, and spun me around. We danced there, in the wet grass, soaked to the bone. I'm not crying, I don't cry. I didn't even cry at his funeral. Am I cold, or heartless? Am I void of emotion? No, my heart aches every day without him. Sometimes I would call in sick to work, and just lay in bed, wearing one of Charlie's shirts. I need to cry for him, so I can let go. Memories are following me everywhere I turn. Our song plays in my head, I smell him when the wind blows. Sometimes I feel his hand on my shoulder and I close my eyes to savor it. The world still turns, and life goes on.. for everyone else. But me? Life stands still here. My little room, in this cold sterile building. I know that I'm not crazy, being with Charlie is all that has ever made any sense to me. Without him, who am I? I'm nobody, I feel like I died the day we put him in the ground. I've wanted to ever since. I guess that's why I'm not allowed anything sharp or strong enough to make a good noose. Why does it have to be so hard? The medication helps, but only so much. I know that I'm not crazy, but still... I sit here in my room, dreaming of Charlie..and I'm not alone.. I'm...not.
I woke up this morning, well before the alarm went off. I rolled over to cuddle him, but he wasn't there. He's never there anymore, how could he be. He's dead. I feel so empty, my stomach bottomed out and I sat up. "Get a hold of yourself, Autumn." I said out loud. I roll out of bed and stand up to stretch. It's raining. How can I be happy in the rain. I remember one day Charlie and I were walking through the park, and it started raining. I started to run but Charlie grabbed me by the waist, and spun me around. We danced there, in the wet grass, soaked to the bone. I'm not crying, I don't cry. I didn't even cry at his funeral. Am I cold, or heartless? Am I void of emotion? No, my heart aches every day without him. Sometimes I would call in sick to work, and just lay in bed, wearing one of Charlie's shirts. I need to cry for him, so I can let go. Memories are following me everywhere I turn. Our song plays in my head, I smell him when the wind blows. Sometimes I feel his hand on my shoulder and I close my eyes to savor it. The world still turns, and life goes on.. for everyone else. But me? Life stands still here. My little room, in this cold sterile building. I know that I'm not crazy, being with Charlie is all that has ever made any sense to me. Without him, who am I? I'm nobody, I feel like I died the day we put him in the ground. I've wanted to ever since. I guess that's why I'm not allowed anything sharp or strong enough to make a good noose. Why does it have to be so hard? The medication helps, but only so much. I know that I'm not crazy, but still... I sit here in my room, dreaming of Charlie..and I'm not alone.. I'm...not.