Short Story Monologue

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.

Hey, how are you all doing out there ? Well, me I have just been trying to stay healthy and keep my head high so I can make it back to the only thing I have and that’s you all “my family”. I try not to think about you all too much because when I think about what's going on out there it makes me mad and I am so tired ‘’omg’’. We don't eat that much during war but when we get back to the base we eat pretty good, well actually really good. I notice that a lot of people donate food and medicine and first-aid kits too. I just got an Lee-Enfield rifle and it's a pretty nice gun, it can hold 10 bullets. I just been waiting to use it on, Germany, Austria-Hungary and the Ottoman Empire against the Allied forces of Great Britain, and there are some

So uh.... for some reason everyone used a different size for the collab... so I ended up messing around trying to fix the sizes and crap... Oh god. I don't actually know what the original size was so sorry if its a bit off... (Also, Kanji was really blurry... like really blurry... so I tried to sharpen him ._. sorry...

She looked at the child, safely in her arms, breathing steadily. She looked at the man, then turned her head at the semi. The semi woman had no chance. She cared for the child, even when it ended her own life. She cradled the child in her arms, quietly praying that he didn’t what had become of his mother. She didn’t know that the child was hanging onto her arm, sobbing into her sleeve. The warm, wet tears on her shirt had brought something out of her. She broke down in the middle of the road. She cried into the bright blue coat of the little boy. He was tightly holding his Teddy bear when she had grabbed him, but when she looked down, he was no longer in possession of such an innocent creature. He dropped it when she had set him on the ground. She stood up, looked at the burning car and semi, and realized that she had saved a person, but she was mostly proud at the fact that she had saved a child, no older than eight years. The police took her, the man, and the child into custody. She walked to the ambulance with the help of an officer. The girl had been silent from the moment that she had put her earbuds in. She hadn’t spoken a single word. Not a single

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”.

Most people stopped smiling. Screams were heard. Dancing stopped. Why were people screaming? All I heard was the beat of the music. People began running towards the front door, into the bathroom, behind the bar. Anywhere they could hide. I stood on my tiptoes to see the commotion, A guy was holding a gun, shooting us. Bodies dropped rapidly. My heart sunk. Where was Travis? Kendra? I couldn’t find my best friends. Still on my tiptoes, I looked around. I saw Kendra. Then a crowd of people engulfed her and I could no longer see her. I hoped that my friends would be okay before I rushed into the bathroom. A small pile of people cowered together upon hearing the bathroom door swing open. They thought I was him. Once seeing I held no weapon, they yanked my t-shirt sleeve and pulled me into the pile of crying, shaking, scared friends. I pulled out my phone, clicking it on then opening the thread of messages between my mom and I. Quickly, I typed a brief explanation of what was happening and where I was. I sent an ‘I love you both’ before shoving my phone back in my pocket. I gripped a stranger’s hand tightly, tears rushing down my face like a waterfall. A sob choked in my throat, causing my breath to hitch, letting out a hiccup. A stranger hugged me closer. The shouts wouldn’t leave my head. I heard them all over, I heard the shrieks, the calls for help. Why is this happening? was all I could think. I squeezed my eyes shut, throwing my hands over my ears,

The air reeked of alcohol, the intoxicated breaths of young people colliding together over drunken slurs to create one distinct scent. She kept her head low as she made her way through the maze made by the seemingly endless crowd. Full of regrets, she was doing all she could to get out of there, the distraction turning out to be nothing more than a few drinks with people who didn't even know when her birthday was. The song finished abruptly, followed by simultaneous cheering. She kept moving, weaving in and out of people with fierce determination until she walked right into him. She murmured a quick apology and went to continue when the familiarity of the figure in front of her hit. She hesitantly looked up, heart dropping into her stomach at the mere sight of him.

In your eyes yet not able to see but still able to understand. Look to the past, not future, it's went way too far. We've skipped, we've ran, but go back and walk slowly, nicely. Don't miss a thing!

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.

I have something I need to tell you. It feels weird announcing this, because nothing has changed. I feel exactly as I’ve always felt, and I’m still the same person I’ve always been, I’ve just accepted a few things. It  almost feels pointless to say, because it seems so obvious to me, but I think I should tell you anyway. I don’t know how exactly to explain myself, because it’s how I’ve always felt, but I’ll try help you to understand without writing down every thought I’ve ever had.

The cafeteria had always been the noisiest place in Geochang Middle School. Maybe because students were too busy studying and paying attention in class. Maybe because the 5000 square feet of space was the only region in the facility where they could breathe and let out the sparks that had been dimmed inside of them for so long.

I slowly walked into the dark and daunting room. She has beckoned for me once again. She always has and she always will, no matter how many years we spend apart. She was like a drug to me. I hated the addiction but would easily fall back into the habit as soon as she would offer herself to me.

“Concentrate, Aiden!” He clapped his hands. “Please you really need to focus. This is important. Children have to be careful when they venture into the forest. There’s a pack of wild, voracious wolves with gaping mouths reeling with fangs and forked tongues each as thick as my wrist. They roam the woods, ten feet or more, and then hung in the trees, breathing raggedly tasting your scent, considering how best to devour you. As a matter of fact only, the other day several of them snatched a baby elf out of its sleeping mother’s arms and thrashed the poor little dear to pieces.

My drama paragraph: Your mother's "trying to help" days are coming to an end, and the time is coming to let it go. This is a final attempt to reach you saying everything conceivable down to the last atom of my energy. Being strong-minded (in your head) hasn't allowed your heart and spirit to listen and hear the pleas from your children, Grandpa, sister, and parents!!! If this last "try to help" as your "fairy godmother" doesn't work, your parents' twilight years will be peaceful, but with deep sorrow.

I didn’t know any better. I didn’t know it could kill me. One time when I was 8, I was playing with some chapstick. I was putting It on everything when I decided to take a bite out of it. I ended up getting really sick and almost dying.