Monologues
Brad Natali
Hey, my name is
Brad. No, not short for Bradley or Bradford, just Brad. I’m named for my dad whose name is Bradford,
but he didn’t want me to be a junior.
Boy, am I glad about that.
I am pretty
much a spoiled brat. Living on a ranch
in the middle of Massachusetts has given me the comforts any young boy can
desire. I like anything that goes fast:
horses, cars, motorcycles. My horse’s
name is Silver Bullet. No one else is
allowed to ride him but me. He runs as
his name suggests. My dad bought me a
BMW M6 coupe – the one where the doors go up, not out – when I got my
license. I had decals painted on the
sides with Silver Bullet and Gentle Rider, our other horse, racing with dirt
swirling behind them. Silver Bullet is
painted on the hood as well. Oh, and
let’s not forget my Harley V-Rod Muscle in Brilliant Silver. It’s a mean machine.
I live with my
dad and stepmother. My dad remarried
after my mother died. I was ten when it happened and losing her at that age
changed my life. I became calloused and
spiteful. I made friends who share my
views in life, and I intend to party ‘til the cows come home, if I had any. My
friends go to Easthampton High School with me. I’m 16 and I’ll be a junior at
the start of the school year in a few weeks.
Lately, Dad’s
been trying to reverse my downward trend.
I fight him though, even though I know he’s telling me stuff that’s okay. Sometimes I give in because I’m tired of
hearing him talk. Other times I give in
because, if I don’t, he’s threatened to take away my Harley. There’s no way I’m letting that happen.
I really loved
my mom. She was the best. Her warmth and kisses meant so much to
me. If I believed in angels, she would
fit the bill. I guess that’s why I still
call my father ‘Daddy.’ She liked it
when I called him by that name and calling him by that name also reminds me of
her. However, I only call him ‘Daddy’
when no one else is around. But don’t be
mistaken, it’s not wimpy. You’d be
surprised by the tone I use sometimes.
My stepmother
is the opposite. Her demon-like attitude
drives me away from my dad. As if things couldn’t get any worse, she has a son
named Butch. He comes to visit sometimes, but whenever he does, it’s like hell
here.
I often wonder
why God would allow my mom to die when I needed her so much. I want to believe He wants the best for me,
but I’m not so sure. It’s not like I’m
trying very hard to do the right things. I really wish someone like my mom
would enter my life somehow. I don’t
think Mommy would like what I’ve become, but I don’t know how to change myself
back or if I even want to. I feel like
I’m in an eternal struggle. I want to
love and to be loved, but I don’t know if I’m even capable of letting myself.
Anyway, if you
care to, you have been invited to join me on my life’s journey.
Kressa Morales
Hola, mi nombre es Kressa y soy de México (Hi, my name is Kressa and I’m from Mexico). Yo hablará en inglés para usted (I will speak in English for
you). My parents are planning a trip to the United States. We are going to live in a place called
Massachusetts on some farm in the middle of nowhere. I hate the fact that I have to leave a place
I love to go to some unknown area to be someone’s slave. My mother told me she worked for this family
a long time ago before I was born, and that she’s been requested to
return. The pay is great, and we’ll have
a place to live, she tells me.
Why do I have
to leave all my relatives in Mexico City, and who will I meet when I get
there? I’m scared. I know English, but I prefer Spanish. Now I’ll be expected to go to an American
school. I don’t even know if I’ll fit
in, but I don’t have a choice.
My father isn’t
too happy about the move either. I just
wish he would put his foot down and make my mom stay, but he’s out of work
right now, so this is how we’re going to survive. Basically, we’ll be live in servants
performing cooking and cleaning duties.
I’m 15 years
old now. I celebrated my birthday in
June. It was grand. In Spanish countries, turning 15 is a big
deal. There was a huge party and I felt
like a princess for the day. It’s the
day I’m considered grown up.
It’s funny how
I couldn’t choose to remain behind while they moved away. I am angry and I resent them for this. I was
hoping to celebrate my 16th birthday in Mexico, but I don’t think
that’s going to happen now. We leave tomorrow.
I want to say
one more thing, there’s something strange about my parents’ interaction with
each other. I’m not sure what it is, and
my mom won’t tell me. Usually, Mama and
I talk about everything – from what we think about to the boys I have crushes
on. We have a very close
relationship. Even my cousins think it’s
too close. That’s why I’m bothered by
the fact she won’t tell me about what’s happening between her and Papa. She’s also keeping her relationship with our
new boss a secret. Hmm. Please come along on my journey to see what
happens next.
Buy now.
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