Monologue: What's His Problems

Today is the day. Today is finally the day that I am to be released from the psychiatric hospital since that day when I passed out. I know last time you heard from me, I was broken and unhappy and had hate for the world, but i'm in the best state i could ever be, I really am I tell you. Oh how excited I am to see old Phoebe. I haven’t seen her since i’ve been admitted into this wing of the hospital. Oh I wonder how much she has grown< She was so intelligent and pure, nothing could ever compromise her. So I hope nothing hasn’t. I was retrieving most of my belongings before I left, when I happened to run into old Ms. Patty. This was my nurse and oh, how lovely she is. “Oh hello Holden, leaving so soon ?” she said so to me with great compassion. Naturally I said, “Why yes sadly, I must go on with myself and enjoy the world, perhaps find myself a woman”, I said this suave as hell, I tell you.

The rain had just stopped pouring, and we had all gathered in a park nearby, as a makeshift memorial for Johnny. It wasn’t really a funeral, we didn’t have the budget for that, and it wasn’t like his parents cared enough to give him a proper goodbye.

Its is 1914 and joey a farm horse sold the the army and thrust into the midst of world war one. Into the western front when he is dragged away from his owner Albert his heart aches will he find him. Albert said they will meet again

I kept writing. It was hard, but I could get everything off of my chest. I could explain to people what had happened to me. I could tell my English teacher. It was a little hard, but I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry. Greasers didn’t cry.

The horn has already sounded and I’m still running. I can feel my blood pulsing in my ears. The sounds of useless advice feels the air. I continue to run. I come across a cave and ran into it. I gasp in shock and as I walk into a lab filled with mindless people editing videos. A film crew rushes at me and says, “If you were able to be in Divergent, which character would you be?” I shake my head in confusion. I attempt to back up slowly, but they grab me and place me in front of a computer and yell, “Edit!” The slam the headphones on my head and everything becomes a blur.

The man sat in the booth across from me studied me with old eyes. His wrinkles which formed when he used to smile so much are no longer quite as prominent. The man’s irises were currently an icy blue, resembling the seasonal weather among the small town. This I only knew because I’ve seen him once before. His eyes were almost like a crisp auburn- resembling what was known to him as “the falling of the children”

Markus Zusak’s, The Messenger features the protagonist Ed Kennedy, and how he completed each mission of aces; diamonds, clubs, spades and hearts. The suit of spades was symbolic to Ed’s overall mission as Ed had to dig through truths about himself. Before the suit of spades Ed’s thought of himself was that he was worth nothing, evident through the narration of Ed’s monologue. The suit of spades saw Ed wanting more for his life, evident through the characterisation of Ed, the changes in his monologue.

I awoke to beams of a dozen spotlights, my vision gradually adjusted to the brilliant white light which illuminated everything around me. The realization that I had fallen asleep during rehearsal caused my eyes to widen in utter shock and confusion.

Thornton Wilder, a Wisconsin native, is the writer of the Pulitzer Prize winner play Our Town. In Our Town, Wilder tells the story of a town in Grover’s Corners, New Hampshire, and the daily lives of the inhabitants. In the play, the author uses minimal props and scenery as well as including a main character known as the Stage Manager that has the ability to break the fourth wall, allowing him to talk to the audience. This factor of talking to the audience is a major component of making the public a part of the town. Throughout the play, there are many instances in which the Stage Manager uses various cues as well as dialogues to incorporate the audience and develop an intimate relationship to create a true sense of “our town”.

Nothing was heard, only the water droplets that drops from the crack ceiling. Making a small puddle on the ground, having mice roaming around the place.

Shannon and myself used preventative measures to stop an argument from escalating, i.e. diverting co-residents attention, as both (BM), and (DD) were getting quite upset with one another.

He hadn't thought it would hurt. Of course, everyone had said it would, but everyone is not the Winchesters.

Hiding in this damn room is a stupid idea but I really don’t have a choice in the matter. Not after everything that’s happened today. The Division Leaders are here and this is where Jensen put me, out of sight and away from prying eyes. It’s probably for the best, considering that Samuel possibly believes that I’m unconscious thanks to Doctor Estin. Unless the doctor told him that his plan went wrong. I don’t believe Estin did though. He would be to scared that Samuel would take his daughter off ice. He wouldn’t risk it.

I slipped out of bed trying my hardest not to disturb Red. I could still hear the light, upbeat tune drifting through the open window. I don't know why but there was something that was drawing me towards the sound.

Laughter bubbled out of her as she pushed him away, just in time for two pints of mead to be slammed onto the table by a tall, lanky woman with unkempt black braids pinned haphazardly to the top of her head. “You must be the stowaway.” She greeted Evangeline sliding a pint toward her, half of it spilled on the table. She slid Trevor’s to him as he tried to conceal his laughter.