Tag Archives: murder

death, hate, love, murder

ZOMBIE HATE

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[A seventy-year-old drunk, skeletal and haggard.]

I sometimes wish zombies existed.

And no, I’m not crazy…I just miss my dead daughter.

I don’t want her to come back as a zombie either. That’d be awful, worse than missing her. She didn’t just up and die anyway… she was murdered. There’s a big difference.

Although I didn’t give her much thought when she was alive. I couldn’t.  I was brimming with hate and anger; always shit-faced drunk or just sober enough to make some money for more booze. I was also an asshole to her and to her mother.

But on the day she got murdered, when the police caught the sonofabitch and they told me how he had made my little girl suffer, just out of pleasure… well, I stopped drinking right then and there. It was easy. I didn’t want to drown my pain anymore. I needed it so I could focus it on the murderer, with all its intensity, all its venom.

During the trial, I wished they would let him go free… so I could kill him myself. But they sent him to jail. Many years.

And me? Well, I remained sober, got a job, cleaned up my act. I even started exercising. I just wanted to be alive when that sonofabitch got out. I was tempted by religion too but, again, I didn’t want anything  interfering with my hate.

Thirty years went by. I lived a normal life. Uneventful. I didn’t suffer. Didn’t feel pleasure. I just did the time with him…waiting for mine to come.

And it did.

The day he got out, I followed him into an alley and shot him six times. Then went straight to the first bar I saw and got drunk.

I’ve been drunk since… because as soon as killed that sonofabitch, I knew my hate  wouldn’t die along with him. And indeed, it’s still inside me, more painful than ever.

That’s why I said I wish zombies existed… because if that sonofabitch was one of them, I could spend the rest of my life killing him time and time again.

But I’m afraid this hate of mine is the only possible zombie.

It must be because I don’t see a way to get rid of it.

Are you an actor or director interested in using this monologue? Contact us in ABOUT MONOLOGY!

 Copyright Abel Gonzalez 2016

death, memory

THEY SAID I KILLED A GIRL

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[A sixty-year-old man with messy hair and bags under his eyes. He seems slightly deranged.] 

“They said I killed a girl… But I didn’t remember doing it.

Someone had strangled her near the river and dumped her body in the water. A family on a picnic found it floating downstream later that day.

The police came home looking for me at midnight; they took me to the station, they questioned me about the girl, who, yes, I had seen that day because we had a date… we had met online.

I told the detectives I left her at a café two hours after I met her because I got a call for a job… I used to be a plumber.

The police asked more questions and took lots of samples. And a few hours later, I stopped being a free man for the next twenty-four years.

During the trial, I couldn’t believe the evidence the police had found. My fingerprints around her neck, my DNA at the crime scene, her skin under my fingernails…

And, like I said, I didn’t remember killing her. I still don’t.

Why shouldn’t you believe me? … After all, what would be the point of lying? I already paid for the crime!

Anyway, I was going crazy during the trial. The more evidence the plaintiff put forward, the more obvious it became that I was guilty, even to myself.

I ended up accepting it. I had killed her and, somehow, forgotten all about it. It’s happened before. A kind of selective amnesia triggered by deep feelings of guilt… at least that’s what the prison shrink said.

I changed my plea to guilty. According to my lawyer – who was an ass by the way – that strategy saved me from a life sentence.

I was thirty-five when I got locked up. I’m almost sixty now. I got out yesterday.

The first thing I did was to visit the place where they found the girl’s body.

I did it because my biggest fear, the heaviest load I carried while in prison, was not knowing for certain if I had done it. What if everyone was lying? What if it was a conspiracy?

I needed to know.

And I was hoping that place would help me unearth some buried memories, force me to remember. Because I still wanted to believe I’m not a murderer, that despite all the evidence, I couldn’t have killed that girl…

But nothing happened when I got there. I still couldn’t remember a thing.

Well, something actually happened, something that surprised me because I had never felt it before.

I felt like killing someone.

So I waited  until eventually this woman came jogging by. It was easy to strangle her. She wasn’t very strong. There was no one around. I dumped her body in the river and then came here… I’m waiting for the police to arrive now.

I have a good defense this go ‘round. After all those years paying for something I don’t remember doing, I needed to do it. I had to know how it feels to kill someone… and make sure I remembered it this time.”

Are you an actor or director interested in using this monologue? Contact us in ABOUT MONOLOGY!

 Copyright Abel Gonzalez 2016

economy, politics

THE CORP AND THE CORPSE

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[A man around fifty-years-old in a suit.] 

“Remember that industrial waste spill a few years back? The one that contaminated our bay and drove all the fishermen out of business?

I was one of the lawyers who represented the fishermen in the civil suit against the corporation responsible. And, as you probably now, after two long years of litigation the jury came back with a non-guilty verdict.

My clients couldn’t believe it; They were crushed… they couldn’t grasp how the clear culprit of could get off scot-free like that…

So I told them this story to help them understand.

I asked them to imagine they find a corpse stabbed several times… and right next to the body there’s this guy holding a big knife that’s dripping with blood.

The guy, the obvious suspect, doesn’t resist arrest. In fact, he’s very courteous and fully collaborates with the police.

As expected, he gets charged with murder. But when the trial starts, to everyone’s surprise, he declares he didn’t do it. He assures the court it was actually his right hand, who, acting on its own accord, pushed the knife into the victim’s body.

So then they call the guy’s right hand to the stand. And among his sobbing, the hand states he happened to just be holding the knife when the guy’s feet started walking toward the victim.

To confirm the hand’s story, they call in the guy’s feet to testify. First, the right foot, who quickly clarifies it was the left foot who took the first step.

Under duress, the left foot accuses the guy’s heart of forcing him to commit the crime since he couldn’t have moved without its constant supply of blood.

The heart is also called in and, in a big twist, he blames the brain for everything… He calls it the mastermind.

And you may think this is the whole truth… Of course, the brain did it!

But not really because the brain quickly excuses himself by pointing out it was the guy’s eyes who selected the victim…

In turn, the eyes accuse the mouth of being the one who called out to the victim; the mouth does something similar to the ears, the ears to the nose, etc.

In the end, the case is so tangled and convoluted that it’s impossible to lay any blame on the guy… or his limbs.

So he walks out a free man. Just like in our case against the corporation.

Because although many of its members showed up for the trial…

There wasn’t a single conscience among them.”

Are you an actor or director interested in using this monologue? Contact us in ABOUT MONOLOGY!

 Copyright Abel Gonzalez 2016