Abby Frank Monologue

Face pale with terror, Adam's shaky hand moved to switch on the bedside lamp. Images of Fire and Brimstone, and writhing figures, - men, women and children all - screaming in pain as flames consumed their bodies, flowed through his mind. Eyeballs exploded, and liquefied flesh oozed into fiery lava pits, leaving nothing but a collapsed pile of charred bones on the ground before moments later the victim's human form was resurrected in its entirety, and subjected to the same agonising fate again. Over and over, ad infinitum.

William watched Reverend Flowers and Mary storm out of his office. His hands shook with anger as he poured himself another glass of vodka. He sat back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. He knew it would be a long, sleepless night on the couch. After the exchange with Mary, he doubted he would ever spend another night in the same bed with Mary.

(Juan and Eva are arriving to a night at the opera and sit down to applause. Music starts. Eva and Juan enjoy the music until, suddenly, Eva doubles over in pain and starts gasping for breath. )

He had gotten off the launch pad the wrong way, that was all. It was necessary to recalibrate. Seventeen years of quiet, reading and thought had been, perhaps, an affront to Karla’s gregariousness. Perhaps solitude, when accumulated, was a dark enemy of joy. Pouring liquor from one canister into another did not change the taste. There was hope in knowing this. He might yet find the right way to

She stands alone in pitch blackness trying to gather her bearings and when she realizes her surroundings she moves, creeping slowly, silently in a direction that is singing her name. She knows this dream, a false reality filled with memories forgotten and fantasies, inklings of hidden little dreams of things she never had but always wanted.

She has been through so much. She saw the Second World War and watched as her mother waves tearfully goodbye to her father, while holding her six-month-old younger sister, Adeline Hazel. She sat on the living-room floor, playing with her younger sister—now five years old—and listened as her mother answered the door and a soldier told her how brave her husband was and how his sacrifice was appreciated. She saw the hesitant cheering of her neighbours after the war was finally declared over. She felt love and heartbreak. She went to her father’s funeral at the age of ten and her mother’s funeral at the age of thirty-one. She was married at twenty-two and was the maid of honour at her sister’s wedding at the age of twenty-eight. She gave birth

Passion was overwhelmed by Emily’s generosity and she broke into tears. “What’s wrong? I thought you would be ecstatic!” asked Emily.

“I will.” Then I follow with, “By the way, did you ever see Elizabeth at the gym or when you played tennis?”

She quickly spoke up and said, ‘Hello there, my name is Charlotte Jolynn, and I’m from round’ here’.

“Bring someone,” she had said with a smile that always meant mischief, so here I was with Miller, in the back seat of Scottie’s car on our way to Anita’s, where we would get drunk off whatever we could find in her mom’s liquor cabinet and whatever Scottie brought us. Tonight, it was some red wine (“Fifty dollar Cabernet Sauvignon, not just wine,” Anita had scolded) and lemon-flavored vodka with grapefruit juice, because that’s all we could find in the fridge. I’d had about two and a half glasses of each by the time Anita said, “Let’s go to the Woodgate church!”

A deafening cheer was heard outside the room signifying the end of the concert. Angelica groaned. “I missed most of the concert because you had to fucking faint and make it all about you. Can’t you just let me have one night where I can not have to take care of you?” Angelica ran a hand through her hair and stood up at another cheer from outside. “I think she’s playing an encore so I might as well see that as I couldn’t see the rest because of you.”

A few minutes passed by until Alice was able to speak and let me lead he back to the bedroom. We sat on the end of the bed until 6:30 am while Alice explained to me that it was Mrs. Gilbert on the phone, a co-worker at the Elementary School, and the wife of Mr. Gilbert the town’s Sherriff. She told Alice that her student Janie Augustine went missing on her way home from school that day. And that a few hours before a camper found her dead in the Red furrow woods, 17 miles away from the Elementary School. And when Alice asked Mrs. Gilbert how Janie died. Mrs. Gilbert choked on her words as she said Janie was murder. She bled out after being hit with an ax in the stomach.

“Yes dear? What do you have to tell me?” Mary worriedly exclaimed. She looked around into the dimly lit lamp light of the living room. Mary sat down in stiffly onto an old armchair. Patrick got up and walked over to the table and drank straight out of the bottle of whiskey, he then sat back down.

(f/n) would perpetually come back to find her mother already inebriated, although tonight was unusual in the fact that not only was her mom sober she was beyond furious. "Where is it?" Her mother seethed with rage boiling in her eyes.

“Sort of, but I’ll mention it later. I think it’d be better to talk where there’s not too much noise.”