Flakka Monologue

It all began with a simple phone call one night after dinner. “John,” my father hollered up the stairs, “It’s for you. It’s Jackie, and she sounds distressed.” As I came down the stairs to pick up the phone, I was not happy. I was tired and had looked forward to a nice quiet evening at home, not another stupid adventure with Jackie.

The next visit was a couple weeks after, the overall vibe was different. The vibe from walking in, her parents, the nurses…something was different. I couldn’t figure it out, and I didn’t figure it out until I got into Hunter’s room. I walked in to see her standing there, waiting for me with a warm and bright smile on her face. My smile grew so wide my cheeks hurt, and tears of joy ran down my cheeks. I ran over to her and pulled her into a hug, and for that moment, everything instantly became better.

I had drifted in and out of consciousness, momentarily forgetting the memory of the metal pipe connecting with my body. I had felt like shit back then, I knew I had probably looked even worse. I could still remember the feeling of my left eye twitching under my bruised eyelid. The image of my darkened and swollen eyelid had kind of resembled the bottom of the rounded end of a half-smoked bong, which had made me immediately swear off drugs.

It has been a long day. The last few days have been long, drawn out by the uncertainty and anger my wife and I share. We have every reason to stand together, hold each other and lament, cry in to each other’s shoulders. However, we stand with our backs to each other, a growing distance between us. Our daughter, Malva, our brand new baby girl not much more than two years old, is dying. She is so young, but still the hands of death reach for her. Her head is swollen. Cerebrospinal fluid, the fluid that is supposed to keep you brain safe, protecting it from life’s falls and trauma. Instead, it is killing her. She has too much of it, it is swelling inside her head, pushing on her skull and brain. Despite the tragedy we share, Maryka

She spoke with such a calming voice that it knocked me out of my shocked state, resulting in me asking what I should do. She instructed me to grab her cell phone and bring it to her, quickly. I ran out towards her room and fumbled in the darkness to reach the small device that layed on her nightstand. Once back to my room I handed my mother the phone and saw the three simple numbers that made my stomach churn, nine one one. The ambulance arrived within ten minutes and rushed Cierra to the hospital. After speeding through the empty streets to the hospital, we ended up waiting thirty minutes before anyone came out to talk to

“Mama! Por favor!” A little girl's blood curdling scream is heard everything goes pitch black. Sofia wakes up with cold sweat running down her face, she looks around everyone is passed out on their beds. She turns around until she’s on her back. Her face is lost in the deep blue ceiling that lays upon her. “10, 9, 8, 7-” she whispered to herself trying to go back to sleep, or at least just let time pass by. After counting to 100 Sofia was fast asleep. “Sofiaaa!” a voice whispered “WAKE UP, you're going to be late!” she groaned in response “Frost is giving an announcement that you can't miss. He's been looking for you.” Sofia ran to the bathroom to get changed, she took one glance at herself before running out. Joe laughed “At least you woke

She grabs me hard her icy hands are like a brand I look at her in surprise she's never rough with me. Her warm brown eyes are filled with fear and ringed with black; her once sloped nose crooked and bloody. I can't help but look at her long thin arms and pale bruised face and know that in a few years this will probably be me. When her grip tightens I look up again she tells that something bad is going to happen and that I need to protect Sam. I already know this. i knew something bad is going to happen when i saw Rob's truck pull up and, i know that as bad as dad gets rob is still worse. i also know i need to protect Sam. I know he's all i have except for her and, I know that he is going to get out of here if it kills me; I have always known that. When I open my mouth to say I knew this she stops me. She hands me a role of money and tells me to keep Sam safe. When She starts to cry, i'm confused she always said never to cry she said that it showed weakness and made you prey. i look up at her expectantly waiting for something instead she just grabs me and pulls me to her chest i can feel the sobs racking her body as she pets my hair down, and whispers that she loves me and that she's sorry. i don't know what she is sorry for but now i'm scared.

At 2:30 in the morning I hear the default ringtone of my iPhone ring for what felt like minutes. I looked at my phone to see who was calling me this late and when the brightness of my phone shined in my face I looked at the caller I.D. and saw my father’s name on my phone I answered quickly. “Hey dad! Is Caleb okay?” I hear chatter and yelling. “Dad! Hello!” I hang up, collect my thoughts, bear myself for what I’m afraid to hear and call back. “Hello? Dad?” I yelled about three times. While my heart beats at a million miles per second I finally hear my father speak, “Yes, Joshae’ I’m sorry I must’ve butt dialed you. Are you okay?” After hearing this the pace of my heart slowed, but I still felt sick to my stomach. On the verge of tears I tell my dad that I’m fine and fail in my attempt to go back to sleep.

On April 14, 2017, I was reminded to never take life for granted. When you’re seventeen, you think you have all the time in the world. However, on this day, time came rushing in. I had just put on my bathing suit and gone to the beach barely even making a dent in the sand. My cell phone buzzed continuously like the nagging of a dog whining for food at the foot of the dinner table. The type of noise you drown out constantly. After settling into a soft sandy spot, I decided to take a quick peep at the missed calls. My sister had called multiple times which is rare. A little curious, I called her back. She answered in a panic with the muttering of alarming words “Mom’s been run over, and we have to go home now! Come get me.”

One day, the penguin was flying around, looking for his dinner. As he was flying, he found an island, where a old woman was weaving a basket. “What’s going to go in that basket?” The penguin asked. “It will have some bread and clothes in it for my daughter.” The woman replied. “Where does your daughter live? I can bring her the basket if you would like.” Offered the penguin. “Oh my, that would be wonderful! Would you like to stay for awhile? I have some extra fish for my kitten, you can have it if you would like.” The penguin liked this idea. He agreed and waited for the woman to finish her basket.

Years ago, my youngest son died—dropped into the icy waves of the sea, drowned in water almost as salty as my grief-filled tears. When he was pulled from the waters, a ring carved of smooth, white bone was clutched in his hand, and his eyes were covered, bound closed with leather.

Sitting against a smooth, tall tree, seventeen year-old Susan struggled to comprehend the terror that she had experienced in the past ten minutes of her life. “Six billion people on the planet. Only hundreds of survival stories, and now I’m part of one.” She said to herself bitterly while gazing into the fiery wreckage of the plane that was carrying herself, two adults, and three of her teenage peers, for a church mission to a small village in South Africa. She had desperately searched for other survivors, but was overcome with nausea by the smell of smoldering flesh. She fled only minutes before the wreckage exploded and crushed her last hope of any survivors. Susan’s flight was only one hour from reaching her destination, but she was stranded in a desert with only a small patch of trees to shield her from the blazing sun. The crash, her

It was a Monday night; I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just completed my review of Office Administration in preparation for my final exams. As part of my leisure time, I decided to watch my favorite reality television show, “I love New York,” when the telephone rang. I immediately felt my stomach dropped. The feeling was similar to watching a horror movie reaching its climax. The intensity was swirling in my stomach as if it were the home for the butterflies. My hands began to sweat and I got very nervous. I could not figure out for the life of me why these feelings came around. I lay there on the couch, confused and still, while the rings continued. My dearest mother decided to answer this eerie phone call. As she

A loud ringing noise filled my ears, i sit up from my bed; look at the time and realize that i slept through my alarm twice. I bolted out of bed and quickly went up stairs and checked my phone for any texts that i might have gotten that night. When i turned my phone on i saw that noah had messaged me. The text read, ¨Hey when are we picking you up for the beach?¨ ¨Shoot!¨ I exclaimed. I had totally forgot that we were going to the beach that day.

I was awaken by the noise of the annoying ice cream truck. I slowly roll over as my eyes scan the room looking for the time; 3 am. I heard the sound of the ice cream truck again. I quietly got up and walked over to the hallway. I thought I was just hallucinating because it was just my 11 year old daughter Lizzy slamming the window down. Then I watched as she skipped down the steps with a five dollar bill in her right hand and her long blonde hair bouncing off her shoulders with every step she took. Down the stairs she went outside looking back over her shoulder making sure I didn't see her. That's when it had hit me, I heard the Ice cream truck once again. I dashed back in my room knocking everything over that was in my way and threw clothes all over my floor looking for my shorts. I sprinted down the steps, but by the time I got outside, she disappeared There was no sign of her. My heart dropped deep into my chest as if I were on the first drop of a ginormous rollercoaster. It was just silence , Dead silence and pitch black darkness. Were all the bad things that happen in the movies happening to me? Am I the reason she's gone? I'm gonna find my Lizzy and I'm gonna get her back! I stumbled back inside. My vision became blurry, salty tears began staining my face, and a huge lump grew in my throat. I snatched the house phone off the hook and struggled to press the 9 on the phone with my fidgety fingers as I continued to press two ones.