Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Monologue Mania Day #552 Why? (for Crime) by Janet S. Tiger Aug. 18, 2015

Welcome to Monologue Mania- one new free monologue a day- for a whole year-and still going!
                                                                    first year -  Feb. 13, 2014 - Feb. 13, 2015
I've continued with a monologue a day until the spirit moves me to stop, so if you have any ideas for a monologue you want me to write, please let me know at tigerteam1@gmail.com.
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click here.
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click here  There are now over 500!
 
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Monologue Mania Day #552 Why? (for Crime) by Janet S. Tiger  Aug. 18, 2015

    For those who might have noticed, this blog has passed a year-and-a half of monologues -one a day.  So if today's is not a favorite, there are still 551 others!  And for those who ask...Why?  I can only respond....Why not?

    Other monologues from Crime are on Days #171-2, 190, 193, 219-223, 226, 239, 320,393, 409
                                                   Why?
                       A monologue by Janet S. Tiger   © all rights reserved  2015                                                                                    tigerteam1@gmail.com 
        (This is the murderer, and he has his hands shackled in front of him as he shuffles to a chair at a table.  He sits heavily, and we can see he has shackles on his feet as well.  He sits back, looks around, listens)

It's funny, everybody always asks the same question, like they don't know any other, or like they can't figure it out.....why did I kill all those people?  Why did I kill?

And then they have the shrinks come in, with their tape recorders, and their fancy glasses.  It would be really easy to kill them, even here.  I could do it, I just don't wanna.  Because when you do stuff like that here in the joint, you get all your privileges taken away, and it's funny but when you don't have much, what you got seems like a lot.  Like smoking.  Can I get one now?  It helps me think.

       (He reaches out, gets one, it is lit for him.  He listens)

My folks were just people.  I guess they were normal.  They never hit me much, I was just like other kids, I liked to play.  They got me a cat for my sixth birthday, because I didn't have no brothers or sisters.  My Mom was sick after I was born, no more kids.  I think she was sad about that.

I didn't kill my mom or dad.  I could've, but I didn't.   Now the cat, that cat was a funny color, annoying...it had like red and black spots on white.   My hands were too little, so I killed it by strangling it with a rope.  It felt good.  But when I brought it home, everybody was screamin'   That was only one out of two times my Dad gave me a spankin', so I learned good, if I was gonna kill something, don't show it to no one, just bury it where no one can find it.


         (He smokes, thinking)

I was older when I killed the dog.  Hey.... it was just an old stray, and it was hungry, so I set out some food for it.  And it came up and it was friendly, and I was bigger, so I could kill it with my hands.....and a stick.  I beat it to death.  And I buried it.  No one cared.....no one missed it.....

         (Listens)

The other time my Dad spanked me was for stealing.  He had an old tin box with a lid.....I can see it now.  He had it so long the picture on it was all scratched off......he kept it on his workbench in the barn, and he kept change in it, some pennies, nickels, dimes.....but mostly quarters.  First time I took a quarter, I got me an ice cream soda.   I liked ice cream sodas.  If anyone asked, where I got the money, I told people I found it.  Which was kinda true, cause I did find it.....in my Dad's tin box.......

It's funny, I remember that one day......I knew there was somethin' wrong in that box, when I opened it, and all the coins were in order, neat. They was always jumbled up before..... I thought it might be a trap, but I wanted me some comic books....so I took the quarters and I got me the books....Superman....Batman.....my favorites.  I never was good at reading, but the pictures made it easy.

I was out behind the barn readin' Batman Meets the Joker and I see my Dad, and he was angry!  (Laughs)  I knew that he had set the trap !..... after that, I trusted my gut.  But for then, it was too late, and my bottom was red for a week...and the worst thing, he made me bring back the comics.....and I hadn't even finished reading them!......  Maybe I shoulda killed him, but he was my Dad.  I couldn't do that......

       (Listens)

The first person I killed?  That I remember, but I don't wanna talk about that right now.  I killed men and women, but no kids.  It's too easy to kill a kid, kinda not fair......

         (He sits back and looks around)

I never stayed in one place too long, so no one remembers me.  Forgettable.  Like the opposite of that song......I didn't keep a list......nothin' that you guys could prove against me.......but now, you know why I'm talkin'......I don't wanna die......funny, huh?

I figure, if there's a hell, I'll be goin' soon enough, no rush.  And if there isn't, then who cares, right?

So I ain't gonna tell you guys any more until I get it in writin'.....I'll plead guilty, I'll tell you all about the people I killed.....but I gotta have it in writing.....

       (He finishes the cigarette, puts it out)

Bertha.  What can I tell ya about Bertha.  She was...a nice lady.....and man, could she make biscuits!  Biscuits and gravy.......I can taste 'em right now.   If they don't give the deal to live, I'm gonna ask for my last meal to be biscuits and gravy and ham.......

I knew I stayed too long, I never stayed anywhere too long so people wouldn't remember me.....but she was ...a nice lady.  I didn't mind doin' chores for her....I was careful when I went to town, kept my head low, didn't talk to nobody ........

Funny, that first day at Bertha's......I had a feeling when I went into the barn ...... Same feeling as when I saw the coins all stacked up neat in my Dad's box........She was takin' me to the room in the barn where I would stay.......and I saw how that barn was all filled up with piles of old junk.  Neat, but still junk.

I asked her why she saved all that stuff, old letters, old bills, old everything.  She was a little sad when she told me why.  She said she was all alone, her husband dead, kids dead.  So all she had left...all that was left of her life....was in those boxes of crap.   (Laughs, a little bitter)   I shoulda burned down that barn......but who'd a known that all crap she saved, would put me here? 

I figured killing her was kind of a favor, because she'd been nice to me, I didn't think she deserved to die slow, like some old people do.  So I just hit her hard when she was asleep, she didn't know what hit her.  And then I used a pillow to finish it off.  I burned the wood I used and wiped everything down, cleaned it good, like I learned when I was in prison.  Bleach is good. 

       (Takes a deep breath, stands)

I'm tired.  I wanna go back to my cell now.

Why did I kill her?  Why did I kill them all?  Why?

       (Turns to leave, stops, looks back)

Why not?

        (He exits as the lights dim on him.  End of scene)



------------------------------------
Janet S. Tiger    858-736-6315
JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8



1 comment:

Jennifer Silva Redmond said...

Wow. You got me again. Chilling.