Entrapment Monologue

Narrator walks to table with handcuffs on and sits down. A small light hangs above him. Detective closes door and walks to table sitting down on the opposite side of Narrator.

If any class I’m taking requires a speech that must be presented in front of others, I immediately dread the due date for that assignment. While the student, whose turn is before mine, is reciting his or her speech, I cannot help but feel my heart race and the palms of my hands begin to sweat. No matter how many times I take a deep breath and tell myself to relax, I still feel anxious. My anxiety towards public speaking has been happening to me since as long as I can remember. I was eager to take the PRPSA questionnaire to determine where on the scale my level of anxiety towards public speaking falls. To my expectations, my results for the questionnaire, a 98, was right where I figured it would be. I found my score to be accurate because yes,

One of my more vivid experiences of public speaking was when I was taking a class at a community college. While taking this class I would often have to give speeches and demonstrations in front of the class. As I was waiting for my turn to give my very first speech, I was very certain that I would have no problems at all, it would a piece of cake, or so I thought. All of a sudden, I hear my name being called as it was my turn to deliver a knockout performance, but as I stood in front of that small class of people I just blanked out. An overwhelming amount of anxiety came over of me. I could feel my heart beginning to race and my hands starting to sweat. I could not for the life of me remember what I was going supposed say. In addition, the

So the FCC won't let me be or let me be me so let me see

Before I knew it, my time to present arrived, and even though I was somewhat confident in myself, I still had those presentation jitters. There was no way around the presentation, so I got in front of the classroom and gave it my all. I finished after about twenty minutes, including a question session by my teacher, and my classmates all clapped for me when it was over. My teacher said that my presentation was really great and even claimed that I had a college quality presentation! From that moment on, I realized that English is not so bad after all, and that I have all the skills needed to conquer the

I threw all of my binder and textbook into my backpack. Then, I carefully stuck in my Beats headphones into a small pouch in my backpack and grabbed my cruiser board gently in order to avoid abrading my fingertips onto the sharp, rough griptape. I walked out of the classroom and felt the breeze of fresh air hitting my body as I made my way to the stairs. I walked towards the grass field hearing my footstep change from thump noise to a more distinct crunch as I step onto the grass with my foot. I sat down crisscrossed while hearing birds chirp and the ambient sounds of college students chattering. Then, I grabbed my backpack, unzipped the main zipper, and took out my binder and pencil to write about describing peeling an

I was born in an immense castle that belonged to the royal family in England. My parents, John and Sarah, were some of the kindest people that anyone could ever meet. I also had a brother who the country loved while they hated me. My father was the Monarch so he did many things which caused me to not see him much. I grew up a spoiled and ungrateful individual. When I was 16, I planned to murder my father so I wouldn’t have to wait until he died to take the throne. One night, I slipped some poisonous mushrooms into his lamb that he was having for dinner. He experienced agony all throughout the night until he finally perished. The whole country mourned his loss while I celebrated.

The buzzing of the bell echoed in the crowded hallway. It echoed even louder in my ears. The sound of footsteps followed as the high school students rushed to their classes. On my own, I stood there with my textbook in my hands as I skimmed through paragraphs one after another. I tried to soak up as much information as I could but I knew better that it was all in vain. It was hard to concentrate with my heart pounding loudly in my chest. “I’m going to fail” I told myself as cold beads of sweat formed on my forehead. Nevertheless, I kept trying to make sense out of these scrambled words in front of me. Midway my mind began to drift. I could almost see myself in my room last night, lying on my comfy warm bed with the phone in my hand. I remember

Public speaking is one of the most trivialize mastery taught in school, yet it one of the most beneficial thing that we need to overcome some way or another. I’ve been an AVID student for 6 years in total, the AVID program taught me how to be a more outgoing and fearless individual; when it came time to present in front of numerous students. Before, the Avid program I was tense when it came time to my turn to present my topic to the class. People tend to be stressed about doing presentations, because they see countless pairs of eyes setting on them and that makes them very nervous. Individuals have a tendency to freeze, cry, or even have anxiety when they know that they are going to be put in the spotlight. For me, I was constantly being engaged

When Kise saw him, he could hear something sizzle from within his chest. With a snake-like hiss, low and hushed, it snapped at him with a bite, concocting minute droplets of poison, dripping over him — burned the skin, peeling it off alive with tiny touches of death.

I killed Innocence, her neck so small and fragile, so easy to snap. Her face only showed a moment of fright as I grabbed it in my rough hands and jerked it harshly to the side. Her chocolate brown eyes turned dull as I stared into them angrily, without shame or sympathy. I could see the life leaving her, could almost feel her soul escape with her last exhale. I dropped her body to the ground, only to be met with the cutting knife of Logic.

There I was sitting, hoping I would come closer to finishing a dreadful class assignment, pushing a cheap pencil that could give my fingers skin peeling blisters in a few more strokes. It was a frigid Saturday night during October, I looked out the window smeared with water due to condensation and noticed the sky was a rich navy, smoked clouds began to settle behind the steep mountains and the wind was giving a gentle cry. Ruddy brown leaves were twisting off their branches and rocked back and forth until I imagined listening to them make a hushed scratch on the asphalt. The night was too beautiful to ignore, so I tossed my pencil over my shoulder and thought I deserved to enjoy my weekend. The homework made me forget I was hungry from all

Anxiety, the first feeling that hits me when the word “presentation” or “speech” is said, following that, is an overall feeling of dread when I realize that until after the project has been presented, I will need to trudge myself through thick, globs of stress and anxiety to cross over to the next set of presentations. Junior year was evidently the most convenient time for teachers to place such globs of stress and anxiety, as they appeared in a bizarre abundance. It is not as if I did badly on presentations, on the contrary I almost always received good

With my headphones positioned uncomfortably in my ears, I sat slumped against my headboard. The inelegant curving of the wood dug into my shoulders, I didn 't pay attention to the discomfort of the plastic pressing into my ears or the misshapen wood digging into my skin as my mind trailed off with a stream of words that filled cracks and gaps like water in a dry river bed. The urge to write was tugging at the edges of my mind, but despondency precluded me from putting pen to paper. Eighteen years of memories were painting pictures in my head, but the right words eluded me.

My day had started out seemingly normal. I hadn’t known when I awoke that this would be the day that would mark my life for years to come. The day had begun like any other. I gathered my things and went to school. All of my morning classes passed by rather quickly. I didn’t have much work to do, as it was a Friday. The bell rang, signaling the end of fourth period, and I grew irritated knowing that I was on my way to the class I hated most, Language Arts.