dramatic monologue for teens

Reflection

The character enters and sets up a video camera which faces him. He pushes a button on the camera and says something to indicate it’s recording. There is a mirror on stage. The mirror reflects the audience back at themselves. The character addresses the audience directly.

Only two types of people are noticed in this world. Only the best and the worst of humanity are recorded. Mandelas and Hitlers; Mother Tereasas and Bin Ladens; Gods and monsters. Never people like me. Too ordinary, too normal. People like me are merely the darkness of the night sky allowing for the best and the worst to shine brightly.

I’m nothing special… I have enough friends to not be an outcast… But I feel so alone. Sitting at a party with my friends hearing everyone talking about their lives, I just feel distant. Like I’m on the outside looking in. That’s exactly it. Standing in the cold rainstorm of my own rage looking into a huge glass window at everyone warm and happy inside.

My friends don’t know I’m hurting inside. It’s always been easy for me to pretend. I’ve been pretending my whole life. Pretended I was okay with being told I was adopted… Pretended I was okay with my brother’s death at cancer’s hands… Pretended I was okay when I read this letter from my biological mother… (Reading from a letter he removes from his pocket.) “You’re not mine, you never were. I didn’t ask to be raped, I didn’t want you. I don’t want to make contact with you ever.”

I don’t think I could ever describe how deeply that hurts me… That I’m the by-product of crime… A forced mistake. My father, a criminal probably not even aware that I exist, that he has a child. (Pause). I’m a nobody (looking in mirror) an ugly nobody fuckup with no sense of belonging. (Pause).

(Addressing the camera more directly now). Now I want you to understand that I’m thankful to you both for trying to make me feel like I belong when I’m clearly a mistake. But neither of you can change the truth. You might have raised me, but I’m not yours. I’m nothing. A human who was forced into this world by a man’s need to dominate.

He takes the mirror and places it on the floor roughly. He proceeds to take his foot and ram it into the mirror in order to break it. He picks up a piece of broken mirror.

This is all I am. A shattered reflection of this fucked up world. And I’m tired of reflecting a world that doesn’t care… I don’t want to be here when the future arrives… (Looking directly at the camera.) Mom… Dad… I’m not sorry for this, I’m sorry for being the cracked reflection of this world.

He takes the shard of mirror and uses it to end his life.

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Choice

I stand here as someone who has choice. Choice. Choice is a gift. Choice is something to be valued and used. It must be used with great care. It must not be used with an ignorant mind and an unwilling heart. It must be used with careful understanding and intimate knowledge.

I stand here as someone who has choice. There will always be people coming from different angles trying to pull you their way, trying to make you conform to their standards, to what they want for you… To what they want for themselves… This isn’t their journey. I experience the pulling all the time. Like a rope around my neck with ten different ropes coming off it, each in the hand of another wanting me to follow them.

I stand here as someone who has choice. I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t want you to think that I’m being arrogant, I’m being honest. There is a difference between arrogance and believing in yourself. Every second person I met told me to go to med school. “Oh you’re so bright! You must be studying medicine!”, “You’re so precise – you’d be the perfect doctor!” Luckily I’m quite headstrong. But after a while you begin to question…

I stand here as someone who has choice. People will always doubt you. They will always doubt your choices if they aren’t what they would have chosen. They will rip your choices to shreds to make their choices feel like the right choice because they aren’t sure of themselves. Their insecurity is redirected to your security. Do you know what it feels like to be doubted? To have people wanting to see you fall? To have people constantly looking down on you? I do. And it hurts. But it builds character. I don’t think you understand the power of fierce determination.

I stand here as someone who has choice. I’ve decided what I want and no one is going to change that. You either support me genuinely or you take your upturned nose at my choices elsewhere.

I stand here as someone who has choice. And I have chosen.