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16+ Language

Monologue About Abuse

by Oliverisorange


Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for language.

Do you want me to tell you what was going through my head? Is that really what you want to know? Do you want me to tell you that because the lights were out, I could hardly see his face? That I had to wait a few seconds for my eyes to adjust just to realise that my sanity was reasonable? Or that the way his chest slowly moved up and down was almost comforting to me?

Or are you waiting for me to say that I didn't mean to do it, that I was only acting on instinct and that regret consumed my thoughts like algal bloom in an unkempt pond?

You know what? Regret was only there to remind me that I should've done it sooner.

Because it was so obvious that his hands were never those of a lover. No, his hands were malevolent and corrupt, only waiting for my inevitable forgiveness. And the worst part was that I believed those hands. I let them cradle my neck until the shade of my face dimmed and they felt satisfied. I craved his drunken nights like a fat kid craves ice cream. And on nights that I did not have his hands, they would possess my entire being. If you think that these scars on my body are only from him then you must be mistaken.

There was a face that came with those hands, and attached to that face were lips of poison oak. These painful plantations mass produced statements that I trusted as fact. They reshaped my definition of beauty and created cardboard cut outs that were never possible to fit in to in the first place.

If you asked me even two weeks ago how my life was I would have said good. He created a world that was meant for me to live in. He was my best friend, my worst enemy, my teacher, my doctor, my lawyer, and even my government. I had to follow his rules in order to stay put into his globe that deteriorated me.

And I guess I thought it could be like this forever, you know? I assumed that it was the only world I was allowed to live in. That I would never get to experience the feeling of being touched in a way that was anything less than innocent and fragile. That equality was only among the dead and that apologies were the only form of a compliment that existed.

But eventually, he stopped saying sorry. It got the point where communication evaporated completely and all that was left was addiction. There was a cloud of dependency swarming around me and I had no choice but to break from it. And this time I promised myself that I would not relapse, that the smell of his kraken infused breathe was dissolving my throat and that things needed to end.

The date was December 27th when my final decision was made.

And when you ask me what paper thin airplanes were piercing through my head as I awoke him from his dreamless slumber only to gash the stainless steal blade seven times to his heart, I can only tell you one thing. Relief.


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37 Reviews


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Thu Jun 05, 2014 11:27 pm
recreating wrote a review...



I love how much anger there was right from the beginning. It is a very lively piece. It has so much personality and expression, which is one of the most important parts of writing monologues in my opinion.

"And on those nights that i did not have his hands, they would possess my entire being."

I love this line. It really hit me. In this entire thing, i love all of the anger and sadness that was burning up, twisted together and released.

I also love how you expressed how they used the apologies. It was all that they really had left that wasn't abuse, but even that disappeared from the cruel world that they were living in.

"And when you ask me what paper thin airplanes were piercing through my head"

This is only a suggestion, but to me, the metaphor just didn't feel quite right there. I would reword it, but if you like it how it is then don't change it. It really could go either way.

I really love this. All of the emotions just form directly from the writing. This monologue could be read by anyone who has never heard it aloud. Just from reading this in my head i could imagine whomever would be saying this to be shouting but breaking down in tears at the very same time. I also love the turn that it took at the end. Also, it had a fairly strong beginning, which is always a good thing because it really gets the attention of the audience. I feel that it would be very strong aloud. You did a fantastic job on this piece and i honestly think that you should be extremely proud of the work that you have done. I apologize for my lack of notes.




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Sat Mar 22, 2014 5:35 pm
BluesClues wrote a review...



Wow. So that took a turn I did not expect, but I approve.

(I mean, I don't approve of murder, even in this sort of case, but I approve of the plot twist.)

I really like this simile, "like algal bloom in an unkempt pond," but I am not as fond of this one, "like a fat kid craves ice cream."

I think, with the first--maybe it's just the sciencey side of me that knows how damaging and overwhelming algal blooms can be (I just had a talk to give on run-off earlier, and fertilizer/phosphorus came up, which of course led to algal blooms), but then again maybe it's that algal blooms choke out all other life in said pond, so that simile is perfect because in the end it turns out that what the narrator did was choke (or in this case, stab) the life out of her (her?) abuser.

But the second one seems less precise (not all fat kids crave ice cream or even like it), and also I think the more casual language in the midst of a beautiful, almost poetic monologue stands out in a not-good way. Yes, more ice cream can be damaging to someone who's already fat, but in a long-term way that could still be counteracted--whereas "his drunken nights" are something the narrator craves even though it's immediately bad for her. Try to find a simile that works more like that, a simile darker, more in line with the language of the monologue, possibly something that's more immediately damaging or has already damaged the person who craves it.

(Such as a lifelong chain smoker who now has lung or throat cancer craving a cigarette. The damage isn't necessarily immediate, but if the smoker already has cancer that makes it much worse that he's craving it, and cancer is a lot darker and sadder than obesity. You don't have to use that simile, it's just an example.)

The only other thing I think I'd like to see a little more from this piece--I don't think we necessarily need to see the narrator going from craving the abuser's touch and whatever to seeing the narrator hate him or feel trapped or whatever, but I do think we need to see just a little more--maybe letting go, prior to the murder, or maybe mention of other people trying to convince her (her?) to leave him, which could then let us know that leaving him isn't enough because she'll always want to come back or something.

Otherwise, beautifully done, and especially the ending. Good plot twist.

Blue




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Wed Mar 19, 2014 2:27 pm
Renard wrote a review...



Hey! XD

Love what you're doing with this piece.

However, there are WAY too many rhetorical questions in your opening paragrpah. You have gone completely overkill. XD

'Do you want me to tell you what was going through my head? Is that really what you want to know? Do you want me to tell you that because the lights were out, I could hardly see his face? That I had to wait a few seconds for my eyes to adjust just to realise that my sanity was reasonable? Or that the way his chest slowly moved up and down was almost comforting to me?' Can you see what I mean? Like...this gradually becomes an interview. XD

Apart from that. I like the blunt way in which the rest of the piece was created.

Especially the conclusion, which is kind of ironic given the comment I just made on the introduction.
'And when you ask me what paper thin airplanes were piercing through my head as I awoke him from his dreamless slumber only to gash the stainless steal blade seven times to his heart, I can only tell you one thing. Relief.'

Loved this piece.

Well done.






Thanks for the feedback :)





The scene was almost supposed to be an investigation, the woman was being questioned and I wanted to link the beginning to the end, I guess it was kind of overkill though!



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Wed Mar 19, 2014 12:45 am
aledford320 says...



I really really like this monologue. The imagery is done very well. The ending is very powerful, to me at least. I have never been abused personally but I have had friends in this very situation and so I can relate to this piece. You are a very strong writer, keep it up!!






Wow, thank you so much!




Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.
— Joseph Campbell