This is a monologue I wrote for my Theater Pro class. I am preparing to get into a play in a few months about a suicidal boy who writes poems, and ends up killing himself at the end when everything seems better. So sit back, relax, and get freaked out.

 

Bold = Great amount of emotion

 

Setting: Psychiatric's office.

 

*Enter stage left and sits in chair*

(Audience is the Psychiatrist)

 

So, tell me something Doc. How exactly are you supposed to help me? By saying everything is alright? Come on, who are we kidding? That only gives false hope to those who are already lost. And another thing, don't tell me that "I understand" bullcrap. You don't understand anything about the world. What made you think you have the right to say that you understand me? Unless, of course, we are the same. Like, we were both put through the exact same emotional torture, correct? Oh Doc, you and I are like, brothers! Oh for so long I needed someone who understood me!

 

Enough joking. Although, it feels great to just smile, eh? Haven't done so in months. For that, I guess I'll follow mothers advice and see if you really just do "Understand",

 

Where to begin. Oh yes, my father. Unlike your conventional family man, my father was a very bad guy. I do not say this lightly, either. He hit us, rather hard. Whenever he felt angry, he decided to take it out on us. For years, I thought his abuse was my fault. I took it out on my friends. Soon enough, I was alone. No one wanted to be around me. I then found out what loneliness feels like. Would you like to find out Doc? Well, imagine you woke one morning, and everyone was dead. Not just dead. Mutilated. Gore spread out everywhere. And deep down, you knew it was all your fault. You caused their deaths. And you must live with the guilt. Imagine that kind of pain. That is how it feels to drive everyone away.

 

Stop saying you understand! You don't know what it feels like!

 

When you're alone, it seems like no one cares. You have to tend to yourself. You learn to... create your own friends. It's better than nothing, right? Well, it worked at first. I wasn't alone anymore. Charlie always had my back. He told me that I was special, that I had worth. And I believed him. I took his word for it, and actually became happy for a while.

 

But like everything else in my life, it reversed directions quite quickly. You see, Charlie gained a mind of his own. Instead of me calling out to him, he began to whisper to me when I didn't expect it. He talked on his own. And he... turned. Instead of his big grin, his mouth was always a scowl. His eyes... god his eyes. They were always bloodshot. Whenever he appeared, he would always scare me. This... it angered him. To the point that he called me named. He would put me down every second he could. My depression grew to such an extent, that I began to believe him once more, What made it even worse was...

 

It was...

 

I was in love with him. So I listened to every word he said. I had to make him happy again.. I had to do whatever he said.

 

No! You don't understand at all! You don't know what he made me do! You don't know!

 

I... Charlie... I killed the source of my issues. The person responsible for everything. I...

 

I killed Father.

 

But now... Charlie is pleased. He's happy now. I see him... He's so happy...

 

Who are you to call me crazy? I've never been more sane in my entire life. Charlie and I are in love. We're together. No one will ever be able to tear us apart.

 

*silence*

 

Hey Doc, guess what Charlie wants now?

 

(Takes out knife)

 

Anything for Charlie. Anything.

Source: I had to.