Friday, January 10, 2014

The 24-Hour Play Festival Audition Monologue


There’s really not much more I can say.
I mean, I feel bad, sure, but who wouldn’t?
Sometimes people just snap, you know?
You can’t help it.
But I do recognize that it’s a living thing, and I should have used self-control.
The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.
But still, I’m sorry.
 
(The actor makes a sound of unbridled frustration.)
 
Okay, well, basically, it’s Arbor Day, whatever day that falls on.  Arbor Day is one of the few holidays where there isn’t an official holiday—it’s based on, like, the climate or the season or something.  In that way, Arbor Day is the most mysterious of all the holidays.  I’m a kid—a teenager—thirteen or maybe I was twelve, but—Never mind.  I’m a kid.  That’s all you need to know.
 
(The actor stretches, as if preparing for the memory itself—the way one might prepare for battle.)
 
Anyway, we were planting a tree—my parents and I—this little tree, to celebrate Arbor Day, because we HAVE to celebrate every stupid holiday, because my Mom gets seasonal depression and excessive celebrating is the only way she chills out.  She’d already snapped at me twice because I wasn’t putting the soil down right, and my Dad was standing up and sleeping at the same time, which is this thing he learned to do once he realized he was married to a crazy person.  I asked him if he ever thought of leaving, but all he would say was “There are no re-funds on laughter…or tears”—my father was basically a fortune cookie with a gun permit.  He said it was for his safety, but he always forgot whether or not he had the gun on him, so sometimes I’d see him get really mad and reach into his coat only to get one of those “Damn I Knew I Forgot Something” looks on his face and slowly pull his hand back out of coat pocket and go back to sleep.
 
My mother didn’t know that I knew she was still drinking.  I caught her with her flask behind the tool shed in the yard right before we started planting the tree.  She didn’t know I saw her, and I would have been in trouble if I said anything to her, so I kept my mouth shut.
 
(The actor starts to laugh about something, and laugh, and laugh.  This can go on for a few seconds or not, depending on the actor.)
 
So we’re planting the tree, and I’m so bored and so mad from being yelled at that I’m standing there thinking, I wish that I could move things with my mind.  I thought, I’d move myself down into the ground right underneath the tree, and yank the whole thing by its roots right into the ground, into the core of the Earth, and watch it burn up in seconds.
 
(The actor should think about something disturbing at this time.  Bonus points if you can make yourself cry—just don’t take too long.)
 
That’s when I heard the screaming.
 
And suddenly, I was very aware of myself, and my situation, and like, where I was and what I was doing.
 
There was an axe near the shed where we were planting the tree, and while I was thinking about destroying the tree, I had walked over, picked up the axe, and started chopping at the tree.  My mother screamed, but she didn’t come near me, because I looked totally crazed—I WAS totally crazed—and all she could do was watch as I chopped and chopped and chopped…
 
My mother was so upset at what I’d done, and so terrified of me, she peed right where she was standing. Then, she took off towards the driveway, and I heard her car start up.  Being completely drunk, she didn’t make it very far.  In fact, she ended up crashing into our neighbor’s house two doors down.
 
(The actor should sort of smile, but in a sort of wild way.)
 
My father slept through the whole thing.
 
It was sort of like Equus except with a tree instead of horses and I wasn’t naked at the time and my mother refused to let me see a therapist about it, but other than that…
 
Needless to say, we never celebrated Arbor Day again.
 
There’s really not much more I can say.
I mean, I feel bad, sure, but who wouldn’t?
Sometimes people just snap, you know?
You can’t help it.
But I do recognize that it’s a living thing, and I should have used self-control.
The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.
But still, I’m sorry.

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