Monologue opens with a spotlight on EMMA, who delivers the monologue in any emotional way she sees fit that still sticks with the character. This may mean pacing, or sitting, or however feels most appropriate.
Emma: I remember almost losing my best friend to suicide. It’s a lot more common than you think. (Asking audience) Can I get a raise of hands for all of the people who have known someone who has attempted or committed suicide?
My friend, she is like the comic relief in our very own Disney movie. She brightens my day and introduces me to new experiences. I have spent an unhealthy number of hours fangirling and singing at the top of my lungs with her, more than I ever expected.
Anyways, it happened in October, I think. The week after homecoming, actually. It was Monday when we first notices she was missing from class, but we all assumed she was sick so of course we sent her the famous “Get well!” text. The panic didn’t set in until the next day, when no one had received a reply. As our brains worried on overtime, we called her mother, who finally responded, explaining that my friend had an allergic reaction to some medicine, that she would be fine, and that we were sweet for worrying. It felt fishy at the time, but no way in hell was I going to question it.
She wasn’t out of the hospital until Thursday, and didn’t come back to school until Monday. Everyone could tell that she was different, but no one wanted to bring it up. She looked exhausted yet still proceeded to regale us with stories of the hospital like nothing had happened. The tension began to disperse.
She didn’t tell me she had tried to kill herself until a month or two later. I don’t remember how it came up, probably a conversation about my mom’s attempt at suicide or at a friend’s depression.
It was then that I realized that part of me had already known that was the case when we heard she was in the hospital. It was like I had this clairvoyant tendency and somewhere deep down I just knew. And when she finally said it, it was finalized.
I felt chilled, and more than ever, the hurt set in. There was no anger, I had been through this situation before so I knew better than that, just a strong urge to let my friend know how much she meant to me, to all of us.
I remember sitting in my room that night, around 10:30 PM, overcome by sadness. I am not a person who cries easily, so those tears surprised me. I finally realized how close I had come to losing my best friend.
Still, to this day, the only people who know about the attempted suicide are me and her parents.
I think about that a lot.
This one was written for a playwriting class I took over the summer. Feedback is appreciated!
Photo used under Creative Commons from e-Magine Art.