My Father Monologue

I sat on the stairs with tears streaming down my face. I look up, sobbing as I wipe the snot from my nose. “This is goodbye for now, but I promise I will see you soon”, my dad had said as he held me. I grabbed onto my dad’s shirt as he tried to put me back down on the stairs and I felt as if my whole world came crashing down. Growing up with divorced parents was a challenge, but it has changed me drastically and for the better. I had to take care of my younger brother during the divorce, which made our relationship stronger and would mature me more than I would ever actually realize.

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”

It all started on a warm sunny day, my dad had just arrived from Michigan. He came into the house gave my siblings, my mother and me a hug and told us the big news. “We are moving to Michigan” he said. He said it so calmly as if expecting my siblings, my mother and myself to react in a good way. Immediately I started to panic, I didn’t want to leave the place I grew up in. I was only eleven years old, I didn’t know how the people in Michigan would be. Finally I spoke “ I don’t want to move dad, I love it here!” which he responded with “I’m sorry but we are going to move because we can’t afford to live here anymore” He said this so emotionless as if not knowing how this could affect me. I hardly got any sleep that night for the fact that my parents were arguing for what felt like all night, but in reality was just an hour.

As I got older, my father’s strict educational parenting became a thing of the past. My father started using drugs and became less of a father and more of a person just there to occupy space in a room. He didn’t care about what my grades were like or what I did in school. My grades did start to slip and I went from straight A’s to barely passing classes. It wasn’t until I went to take out the trash one day and found an opened letter from a college recruiter at a college I really wanted to attend in the

Intro this monologue takes place in a small town in Texas its about a family of three the father mother and daughter. The father lost his job and became an abusive alcoholic and the daughter had enough listen to it, then the next morin she is in the sheriff’s office and her mother in the hospital with the father in the morgue. (The daughter has heavy accent and I tried to put that into my words, so some words will not be spelled correctly.)

My dad was getting dressed nice in a collared shirt and slacks. My aunt Keziah was on her way over to watch my brothers and I was going to a friend’s house. Today the court would decide whether or not we live with my mom or dad. I finally understood. My dad loved my mom. He left because he had too, not because he wanted too. I heard him on the phone saying that it is best for him but not for his children. What was good for us was being where there was no abuse. No aggression. I do not blame you, dad. I believe you have changed. And he did.

I stood at the very rock where she had last lied. Her putrid string of words interfering with my line of sight. I had only met her days back, however, I had felt I had known her for eternity. A constant pressure of darkness looming over my back.

As I jotted down the answer to my geometry homework, I felt the vibrations of the floor trembling beneath my feet from the deafening screams of my parents. I continued my work, as I go uninterrupted by the daily routine argument. One day, I didn’t hear the screaming anymore, which was one of the biggest abnormalities in this household. I slunk halfway down the stairs and stretched my neck over the banister to catch a glimpse of what had happened without getting caught. The next thing I knew my older brother was standing by my side, his curiosity piqued. My mom broke the silence by peering her head around the corner of the living room, her eyes locked onto mine. As my brother and my cover were blown, we walked gingerly to the couch and sat down. I watched my mom’s stone cold face quiver out the words, “We...are....divorcing”. My face froze as if I was in a cartoon show. I tried to

The heavy mint cream white fog pours into the room from all sides near and far. In the foreground I can see brilliant cherry red and lime green laser lights flood the room. The four strobe lights positioned behind me are all scintillating a pearl white, in a synchronized pattern. Hundreds of people all sitting out in front of us fill the whole room. The giant vermillion and charcoal colored stage curtains hang from the ceiling all the way down to the floor on the stage right in front of us. Then the giant curtain splits in half both ends quickly accelerating left and right.

That night I didn’t know what lied ahead for me, I just wanted to clear my head from the tragedy that was left for me.  The one thing I can’t decided is which took the bigger toll on me the physical damages or the mental.  Here we will jump in to the horrific things that have happened to me. You may not believe a single word I utter. I tell you this really did happen, this story is true, and I’m not insane.  Let me introduce myself before we get into the story.  I am Izzy Hallis.

I sat on my bed with my arms wrapped tightly around my pillow swaying back and forth. My mom lightly knocked on my door and asked if she could come in. I tried to wipe away the stains left by my long stream of tears, but I felt my skin sting and eyes swell instead. She asked if I wanted to talk about it, but my response got stuck in my throat, so all I could do was shake my head and shove my head deep inside my pillow. Her bare feet smacked on the concrete as she made her way over to my bed. Her weight made an indent in the corner of my mattress as she sat down and laid a hand on my back.

Staring out into the crowd, lights scorching my face as I recited the big monologue that led to my inevitable suicide, time stopped, and I finally realized that I love what I do, and I wouldn’t have made it here without him. He pushed me harder and harder, each time making it more difficult to meet his expectations for greatness, but I know he did it to make me a better performer, and I appreciate that every day. When I’m stuck in that pit of problems, whether it is about my inner obstacles or life in general that wraps its soul crushing tentacle binding me internally, he is there to free me from my internal shackles. With his guidance, I broke out of my shell and literally found a voice of my own.

And he hasn’t made a visible effort to contact me. I remember when I was little and thought that my father could do no wrong. He walked on water and it was always my mother that was the so-called “bad guy.” It never clicked in my mind that he could be human and make mistakes. There is a book by a man named Herzog titled Father Hunger: Explorations with Adults and Children. After eighteen years of being raised by a single mother, I relate to this book; I now realize that many aspects in this book describe me. The term “Father Hunger” means “the unconscious longing experienced by many males and females for an involved father (source 1).” That said, I can now see that during the limited, short amounts of time I’d spent with my father as a child, I was yearning, hungering for his approval and acceptance. That acceptance and approval was never received though. Maybe becoming a father at seventeen years old was too much to handle. Maybe now he is trying to live out his stolen youth. I can’t hold that against him. However, I will always be bitter that my mother never got that

One day, on a crisp summer evening, my two brothers had visited from sebring.My mother had told us to sit down on the couch and thats what we did. I knew something was wrong when my brothers looked at me worriedly...Logan started crying and I got really worried, then my mom began with the words “Olivia, I know you don't want to hear this but, i’m diagnosed with cancer”....she explained how she was diagnosed with it, she had a lot of tumors and a lump in her throat, I didn't believe this, my life had changed forever at that moment, I thought to myself, how was i going to cope with this? The change would be hard but maybe it will bring something good hopefully

“Academy for the Adolescence, founded in 1774.” I read out loud to my parents. My family and I are standing in rounded cement pathway around a statue with what I assume is the headmistress. I gaze up at the statue, I look at all of her face facial and take in the sense of what it would be like to actually be her presence. After awhile of me standing there in awe, daydreaming, my parent 's guide me into the big brick house. There is a deck, wood, very old, it creaks when I walk on it. There are two giant door, side by side, that are propped open by two women who are greeting each family by name. It’s our family turn to walk through the door. “Welcome back Mrs. Emerson!”, the two ladies say in sync with one another. We walk onto newly