#1
I have to write a monologue for a school project and this was what I came up with. I'm not sure I like it. C4C, I suppose.


I’ve done a terrible thing. I’m a bad person. I said that to Danielle, said what we’re doing is wrong. She doesn’t agree. She said to me "You have needs, and if she doesn’t satisfy them, you’re going to look to someone else who will. She should know that. It’s not your fault." She said it like that in her counsellor voice though, that patronising voice that she uses on her patients. The one which sounds like she’s narrating an advert for some kind of beauty product. That voice which is soft like the inside of a coffin. It sounds so fucking insincere too, so calculated, like comforting someone is a clinical procedure for her. You can tell because she says “It’s not your fault”, not just once either, but over and over again, at specific intervals. I counted, it’s about 3 seconds.
(Reflective pause. Then continues as though he's trying to convince himself.)
She just says it so I’ll keep seeing her. She’s such a whore. I should just tell Cathy the whole thing. All of it. I’m going up there now. I’ll bring her these, and then I’ll come clean with her about the whole thing. Still, there’s always something wrong when I bring her flowers, she knows that. I can see her now, asking “What’s happened? Why have you got flowers?” without missing a beat.

So… I told her. She was just very still, very quiet, but I could tell she was upset by it. Then I got told to leave. Me? I’m her husband! “Visiting hours are over, sir”.
(Pause.) I think the nurse was new – she didn’t seem to recognise me. They all know me down at the hospital. “Mr. Cooper”, they all call me. I always tell them to call me Andrew, but I guess they prefer not to get too attached. It’s ok, I don’t hold it against them. I’m not the type to hold things against people. Anyway, I told the nurse to talk to ask one of the regular staff, that they’d vouch for me, but I left anyway.

I’m seeing her again later this week. She keeps telling me it’s not my fault, that I couldn’t have known, just like everyone else. But it should have been me driving the car. She went out to get some orange juice. I forgot to buy it. I bought everything except that bloody orange juice. I told her I’d get it, that it was my fault so I should be the one who gets it. I should have been the one who got it.

…I think I’d have enjoyed a coma more than this.
I play by my own rules. And I have one rule; There are no rules... but if there are, they're there to be broken. Even this one.


Confused? Good.

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Last edited by break-me-in at Jul 3, 2009,