first year - Feb. 13, 2014 - Feb. 12, 2015 second year - Feb. 13, 2015 - Feb. 12, 2016 third year - Feb. 13, 2016 - today! *********
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.
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.
If you just started this blog and want to read the earlier monologues- for a list of the titles and blurbs from each day, click here There are now over 960!
Get more great award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
Get more great award-winning monologues - MonologueZone.com
If you'd like to write your own monologues, I happen to have a book for that -
Thank you for your comments - and for liking and sharing this site. Wishing you much success!
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Monologue Mania Day #987 Asked by Janet S. Tiger (c) Oct. 26, 2016
Asked
by Janet S. Tiger
tigerteam1@gmail.com
© all rights reserved
(The woman is older, dressed in clothes that are clean but frumpy. She is tired, but not beaten, and she listens, then shakes her head)
What exactly do you want me to say?
You want to know why I did this?
But I told you.....they asked.
Maybe you don't understand what that means to someone like me, young lady. You have a nice figure, and I'll bet you're married, maybe twice, with a trainload of old boyfriends, and you don't have any idea what it's like.....not to be asked.
That was me. No girl ever asked me to a party, or to be a maid of honor at a wedding. No boy ever asked me to a dance. Maybe it's cause I'm quiet. I can't help that, my folks were quiet. After they died, sometimes I forgot they were gone because it was the same quiet.
And so I decided to be a nurse's aide, because I'd already done most of the stuff for my folks before they passed, my Dad first, then my Mom.
When I started working, it was like.....the same as before. The old people in those homes are the same as the young people - some are nice, some are mean. But Belle Hackey, she was nice, I think my first real friend ever.
She was still all there, and she would talk to me, and I could tell she was sorry when I had to leave, so I would come in early and sit with her. She was different from the others, she didn't just talk, she listened to my stories.
And she was funny, she would say, 'I was a Belle when I was young, and now I'm a Hackey!' and she'd cough, because she was a smoker. And she was dying of cancer.....and there was nothing left to do. When it spread to her pancreas, she was in pain. A lot of pain.
That's when she asked me. You know, to help her. And I did. Because she was my friend, and I couldn't see why when a dog was suffering you put them out of their pain, but a human, we torture them until the very end. Why? I don't know. All I know is....she asked me.
And her family was happy, they loved her, but her daughter knew, she looked at me and said, 'thank you' and she hugged me. And we both knew the truth.
All the laws don't mean anything when someone you love is screaming in pain and the next shot the next drip, the next pill.....isn't for two hours.
And so I moved on to other homes. And made friends. I only helped the people who were nice to me. You say it was cruel. Well, I can tell you cruel. There was an old man, Jethro Stone....and he was like a stone, hard and cold. He asked me to help him.....but I didn't, because he was nasty. Was that cruel? You be the judge.
And when you convict me of...what is it you say, eight murders, and you sentence me to death....is that cruel? You tell me.....
(Lights down.)
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Janet S. Tiger 858-736-6315 CaregiversAnon.org
JanetSTigerMonologueMania.blogspot.com
Member Dramatists Guild since 1983
Playwright-in-Residence
Swedenborg Hall 2006-8
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1 comment:
Wow. Excellent.
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