Simon Dramatic Monologue

Thank you for taking an interest in the role! I really appreciate it. — So I have some background for the Emilia role, but it's open to creative freedom. She, Brandon (me) and the Kit all grew up on the bad side of town (I haven't picked a location yet, as I wanted everyone's input once I got the group together) She and Brandon are very close, almost like siblings, and he's very protective of her; they have a relationship like Dom and Mia from Fast and the Furious.

Wolfsheim, a man over embellished by rings and lavish attire. He leans forward to address a young wide eyed Gatsby. Gatsby leans in and follows Woldsheim’s story of his tough childhood in Manhattan. Wolfsheim blight was being the son of an abusive business man and that he knew nothing better than a life of physical and emotional abuse.

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.

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.

“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.

was when Paul went out the window and walked on the fire escape to see if he could make it to the next apartment to get help.

I felt the sticky, sweet summer air plaster my clothes to my perspiring body, the wood of my violin getting dangerously damp as I cranked out note after note; a mechanical doll spinning slowly around my room as I performed to nobody but myself and the smell of mochi rising from the kitchen.

Surrounded by crowds of people sharing the same thought; are we really getting home today? Pepsi is too anxious. Vomiting all over himself and his new uniform. Sunshine lays into him, cussing and screaming. Laughter erupts! Growing rowdier as Doc yells “No matter what don’t stop us now, I’ll fix him”. Close knit groups of friends are scattered around having vivid discussions of the first thing they are going to do when they’re finally off. Grady chimes in on a conversation with his deep southern accent trying to imitate his favorite musician, DJ Screw saying “Man shiiitttt first thing I’m going to do is grab me a bottle, some shrimp, and sit my ass in the tub”. Craw Daddy can’t help but tease Grady, by reminding him to lay off the alcohol

I'll never forget that scream as long as I live. Many years ago I killed a family called the Williams that lived in Liverpool, England, in an eerie, well-kept, and impressive mansion that overlooked the village below. The Williams were rich sluggards that treated us villagers with no respect. Over time their pitiful outlook on us villagers was too much to endure. One fine summer's night at midnight, I crept into the mansion drawing-room stealthily and poisoned the Williams by putting some arsenic in their amontillado. That night I stayed in the mansion and watched the Williams slowly drift to sleep, never to awake again; moments later I disappeared into the dark moonlight night. The next morning a maid entered the drawing-room of the mansion

She stood from her bench when I was a few feet away, I dropped my bags and we embraced for a very long moment. When we released ourselves hug she quickly directed me through the bustling maze of people in this place. Out the front door we went.

“Sweetie? Where are you going?” I heard my mother’s faint voice call out from the kitchen. I was standing at the front door, halfway through opening it when I heard her voice. It was Oli’s, my best friend’s, birthday and her, Angelo, and Dante, were going to Las Vegas to spend her special weekend.

Just the mention of her name sends bolts of fiery pain shooting into my chest nearly rendering me incapable of breathing in any more of the heavy school building air. But more than that - how dare he compare Mack to his warped and tainted perception of me?

Setting provides children with a wide range of activities that support in heuristic play, where it helps children to find and discover things out by themselves through trial and error. (E.g.) provide children with treasure basket, box with Surgery items in the home corner, I encouraged children to feel free to explore and discover how to use them, I let them carry out their own investigation and use their imagination to act out as Doctors and Nurses and some children act as patients. They start with examining patient, asking questions and giving out pretending prescription. I stay close to see and observe the way children play and

I live in a small town called Oia. Because Oia is a small town that everyone lives there knows each other like family. We always help each other when they needed help. One day coming back from work Simon stop us.

He lost his grip on the dog’s leash at one point, and the latter made a quick getaway. After a while, I could hear Kovo calling him: “Chouuuuraaaaaaa…” That call was repeated tirelessly until dawn, sometimes nearby and sometimes far away, ringing out like the wail of an oboe.