The Last Secret Monologue

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.

WHAM!, I heard the rocks crash against the floor and the wailing of my pack. I tried to look for them under the debris of the rocks but It was too cloudy, so I asked loudly, ‘’ Are you okay Alpha?”, Then I hear Alpha telling my master that I was a bad dog. I couldn’t believe that alpha had said I was a bad dog because after all, I was just trying to help, so I just ran away until I made it far enough that I couldn’t see the area I had been in. I felt so sad, so I tried to comfort myself, so I started to look at rocks trying to think about what they looked like. Then I saw a rock that looked like a turtle then I saw one that looked like a man, then I heard the rock talk but then I realized It had actually been a man. I ran to where the man was

As a young boy I watched as my organ flowers disappear and I asked myself “will I see them again?” The space was trembling under its weight and I didn’t think anyone would understand how I was feeling. Organ flowers all decayed, and I will see them 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.

I could smell English Leather shaving lotion and stale tobacco, and I wondered foolishly if I would suffocate before they did anything.

Jesus christ! Haha. This is basically the best post I've ever read on here. Sorry for the late reply.

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”.

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

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.

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.

My life was flashing before my eyes, I was realizing what was happening death was coming. Cold and stillness filled the room while the feeling of death started to overtake my body it was a different feeling but it had to come. My limbs felt heavy and I thought real slow everything was slowing down. Just then something odd happened like nothing I ever thought some sound came into the room an annoying buzzing creature.

His last flutter is silent. Feathers engulf his tiny rusted birdcage. At that moment, I know how insignificant life is. The thought of something coming into this world just to die shortly after is disturbing. Trapped inside his bronze bars, tickled with turquoise peelings, submitting to the small confines of that cage, never knowing anything more that the protection of those iron bars. . . . His minuscule talon makes a last pulse shaking, then goes as still as a rock. Heavy but silent, I stand there bloodstained and shaking; fragility and innocence crushed by petty mistakes.

The Wayward Boy, Lot 79.2, Slave, Maggie Vanderthorpe, and Kuro. But the first name I had known him by was “The new One”

I was worried about Eva and about what I did to her; I really feel shame on myself because my parents knew about what happened, I am also regret that I didn’t ask my father for the money instead I stole it, I feel so guilty that I have done these kind of stuff. So far, my life is just complicated, all of these stuff running into my mind and cannot stop thinking about what is going to happen in the future.

The dragon passed overhead again as I took my first shaky steps forward. I trailed back to the castle staying as low as possible. I decided to increase my speed, finding the anticipation to be painful. A shadow passed seemingly closer than the others and it spooked me. I took off running. My sporadic movements caught the attention of the dragon. It flew low to me, its large wings almost knocking me