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Monologues
for
Teenagers

Drama Notebook holds a Monologue

Contest every month for students ages
6-18. We are building a collection of
fantastic original monologues for kids and
teens entirely written by students.

Winners are
chosen
monthly and
featured on
this page.

~PERMISSIONS~

While the monologues in this collection

are FREE, they are copyright protected.
They may be used for educational
settings without asking for permission.
They may be used for auditions,
performed in educational settings, used in
school and community theatre
performances, and video-taped.

The performer must cite the author

AND Drama Notebook in his/her
recitation, and if possible, add a link to
the Drama Notebook Monologues on a
web page where the performance is
shared.

For commercial rights and other inquiries,

please contact us.

~2021 ANNOUNCEMENT~

If students or adults want to perform

these monologues on video, we may
be interested in sharing the video
performance on this page. Send us the
link to the YouTube video, or the mp4
file. No need to write to us ahead of
time. Send videos here: contact us.

Listen to Me
The Robbery
How Do You Silence Your
Phone?
Don’t Blink
Human, I Promise I Won’t Eat
You
A Scientific Study
I Pledge Allegiance
Mariia
Lost
Visit to the Briarville Library
Halloween Mix-up
By the Mystic Monologues of
Munnopor
Am I the Only One?
Circle of Unhappiness
Is it a Fairytale?
Scars
Misunderstandings of a Villain
Lab Versus the Bunny
Wedged
From Ribeye to Filet Mignon
The Audition
Tense
The Perfect Day
The Long Walk Home
Scared of the Dark
Inner Thoughts of an Ex-
Lioness
After the Movie
What Luck!
What Are You So Afraid Of?
Pressure
Deployed Brother
Her Last Words
Are You There, God? It’s Me
Cassidy
Liar
Is This Normal
Ifs and Whys
Campaign Speech
A Look into my Mirror
The Crush
Embodiment
Driven
Truth
Life Can be Hard
A Word to the Living
Death No More
Letters
I’ll Miss You Too
Is That What You See?
Crumbling Beauty
Mad Mockery
Sister Parent
The Monster Under My Bed
Military Family
Space Unicorns
Sorry
Shrimp Fried Rice
Who Do You Think You Are?
The True Feelings of Godzilla
My Mistake
Mother of a Reader
Brunch
They/Them
Miss Fortune
Book Cleanse
Zoom, Zoomy, Zoom
Glasses
Monologue

Forgive, Forget, and

Fiddlesticks
Felony? I Think Not!
It’s All Because of Me
I Don’t Like Chocolate
The Pompeii Project
Stupid Cupid
Mrs. Wright is Wrong
My Past
Harold’s May
Our Kind
Why Can’t They See Me?
Jailhouse Wolf
Quarantine Diary
The Casket
The Dream
Very Bad Day
Dying to be Thin
Girls
The Nomad
Asphalt and Sky
Gas Station Murder
First Cat on Venus
Cheating
Ticket
The Pool
Lazy Teacher
Focus
Evil Reflection
Middle School
Iceberg
Wish Me Luck
Wedding Jitters
The Life of Marilyn Monroe
Little Racist Things
Genie Blues
Thanksgiving Acceptance
Pasta on Trial
No One
Psychologist
Zombies
Vote for Me
Supernatural Computer
Storytime
Throw it Back!
The Sleepover
The Receptionist
Feral Cat
Bad Day
The Ex
Courage
Thinking
That Which Carries On
Identity Crisis
The Coolest Kid in School
Counting Calories
The GoodLife Interview
Stars
Obsessed? I’m not Obsessed!
The Hospital Visit
Lost in New York
Dear Diary
The Mystery Club
Bitter Eulogy
Girl Who Cried Wolf
Chores
Pretty
Amnesia
Struck by Lightning
Cat Lady
Jealous? I’m not Jealous.
Sorry I’m Late!
Coming Out
Fearless?
Hey, I Miss You

Babysitter’s Rules
The Darkness
No Feeling
The Mall
They Won’t See it Coming
Selfish Samaritan
The Dancer
English Class
I Remember
Spritey O’Doodle
You’re Melting
Homeless Goldilocks
Big Girls Get Dates Too!
Lights Out
Whippin’ Boy
Lovestruck
Goddess
Goddess
Mind Reader
I Hate Performing
No Cell Signal
The Things at School You
Hate
Grim Reality
Punctuation Society
If I Were Him
The Day My Brother Left
How it actually went
Fight for Light
Killer Cat
The Assignment
I’m an Artist, not a Thief
Rudolph’s Older Brother
A Burger Cook’s Ramblings
Listen up, Doggie-O
How are You?
Trapped in an Elevator
Elves on Strike
Chicken
The Bully
Pigeonpocalypse
A Place to Hide
You’d Better Pay Me
I’m not Sorry
The Interview
Generation Gap
I Don’t Need Therapy
No Burial
DNA
The Promotion
My Sister’s Song
Younger Self
At What Cost?
The Unknown Known
No Regrets?
The Assistant
Paper Cranes
Fencing 101
I Hate Disco
Blue Eyes
When I was Your Age
Struggle in the Land of
Opportunity
I Know I’m a Freak
Apologies
The Test
A Short Monologue
Best Friends
Emergency
Funeral
Every Flavor of the Rainbow
Confession
Renouncing God
Crushed

“Listen to Me”
Second Place Winner!
By: Isabella Whittingahan
Jimenez, Age 14, Oklahoma, USA
Description: A 17-year-old argues
with their mother about feeling
under pressure
Genre: Dramatic

You’re not listening to me! I’m

tired! I’m tired of always trying so
hard, and it’s never enough for
you. You’re never satisfied. You
know, you never once told me
you’re proud of me. No, stop, let
me speak. I can’t take it anymore,
I’m tired. I’m tired of everything.
You always want more and more
and there’s like this hole in my
heart that I thought I could fill if I
made you proud of me. Now I’m
realizing that’s stupid because
you’ll never be proud. I’ll never be
enough; I’ll never be everything
you want me to be. Your
expectations are so high, it’s not
letting me breathe. The pressure
you put on me is like a weight on
my shoulders and I try to make
things better, but everything just
stays the same. Not one
“congratulations”, or “I’m happy for
you”, or even a “good job”. You
make me feel like I’m always
behind. Like I’m not trying my best
when actually, I’m trying even
more than my best. All for you to
ignore it, dismiss it. I don’t want
you to do it anymore. I’m done. I’m
done trying to be perfect for you.
You’ve never been concerned
about anything that I wanted. I
sacrifice my happiness for yours
but you’re never happy. But it’s
okay, it’s fine. I’ve accepted it,
there’s nothing I can do for you.
I’m going to do what I want now,
for me. So I can be happy.

“The Robbery”
Third Place Winner!
By: Mia Westbrooke, Age 11,
Iowa, USA
Description: A robber tries to
convince their victim to keep quiet
in exchange for a percentage of
the loot.
Genre: Comedic

You’re probably wondering why

I’ve tied you up, allow me to
explain. In case you hadn’t
noticed, this is a robbery. I had to
tie you up! You saw everything!
Though I am willing to make a
deal. If you keep your mouth shut
and don’t go around snitching, my
crew and I will give you…2% of
everything we steal! Does that
sound good? Oh wait, you have
duct tape on your mouth. I should
probably take that off. (rips it off)
Sorry about that! That had to hurt!
Woah! Woah! Woah! Calm down!
I’m trying to make a deal with you,
jeez! Listen, I’m not giving you any
more than 2%. WHAT DO YOU
MEAN I’M BEING “UNFAIR”?! I’M
GIVING YOU MONEY IN
EXCHANGE FOR YOUR
FREEDOM! Oh, so you’re gonna
become a snitch now. I see how it
is. You want 15%? Wow! You’re
hard to please. You know what?
I’m feeling generous. I will give
you 12% in exchange for you
keeping your mouth shut. Finally,
we agree on something. (unties)
You’re free to go! Meet us in the
alley at 11:00 pm for the
exchange. I know, I know, it’s late
but we have to calculate and
prepare some distractions, so we
don’t get caught. (bomb goes off)
That’s my cue! Gotta blast, but this
was fun! DON’T FORGET!

“How Do You
Silence Your
Phone?”
First Place Winner!
By: Addison Steffer, Age 14,
Texas, USA
Description: A villain gets a
phone call from their mother while
fighting a hero.
Genre: Comedic

Well, well, well… take a look at

what we have here. It would
appear that you and the rest of
your so-called “heroes” have been
bested by a villain. By me!
(Laughs manically) Oh, you poor,
poor thing. You thought I was bad
before? Just wait. I have all the
power now. This is all going
according to plan. And now,
nobody can stop m- (phone rings)
…One second please… (answers
phone, starts whispering) …no,
no, Mom, I can’t talk right now. I’m
busy. (Pause, getting louder) What
do you think I’m doing? I’m
working! Just turn on the news.
You’ll see me. (pause) Mom, I will
not wave at the camera, I have a
reputation to uphold. (pause) No,
no, no, no, no, don’t get dad.
(waves) I’m waving, see? I’m
waving! HI MOM! (Stops waving,
turns back, and sighs) Anyway,
why were you calling? Yes, of
course, I’m coming to dinner, why
wouldn’t I be? (pause) No, Mom, I
am not inviting them. (pause) I
don’t know, maybe because we
are MORTAL ENEMIES? (Pause,
turns to the hero) My Mom wants
to know if you want to come for
dinner tomorrow night. (Turns back
to phone) They said no. (pause,
turns back to hero) She said to tell
you that it’s meatloaf. (Turns back
to phone) It’s still a no. (pause)
Ok, I really have to go now, Mom.
Stop calling me while I’m at work.
(pause) Because I don’t know
HOW to silence my phone.
(pause) What do you mean there’s
a button? There’s no button!
(pause) Mom, I am not asking
them to help me silence my
phone. Do you know how
embarrassing that would be?
(pause) Fine, fine, I’ll ask. (Turns
to hero) How do you silence your
phone? (Turns back to phone)
They don’t know either. (pause)
Ok, Mom, I have to go, just don’t
call me while I’m working, ok? I’ll
see you tomorrow. (pause) Mhm, I
love you too, bye. (Turns back to
hero) Where was I? Oh, yes, that’s
right, I will become the most
powerful villain on this planet, and
NO ONE CAN STO- (phone rings)
Mom, we just talked about this,
what do you need? (pause) Wait,
Stacy’s Mom did what? (Pause,
turns to hero) Sorry, I really need
to take this. You can go. We can
do this another time. (Turns back
to the phone and walks away) You
have got to be kidding. She cut all
of her hair off? What does Stacy
think about that? (exits)

“Don’t Blink”
Second Place Winner!
By: Karly Anderson, Age 14,
Texas, USA
Description: A young adult
realizes they shouldn’t have
wasted the moments being in such
a rush to grow up.
Genre: Dramatic

Have you ever heard the phrase

don’t blink? I grew up hearing that,
but I never looked at its true
meaning until now. Don’t blink. It’s
your first day of Kindergarten
you’re in your brand-new shoes
with a bright new backpack excited
to make new friends. Don’t blink.
Now all of a sudden you find
yourself leaving elementary going
to middle school. Just six more
years and I can drive, you think.
Don’t blink. You’re in high school
now, and those friends from
kindergarten are long gone. You
don’t know who you are. But it’s
okay. Just four more years and
you’ll go off to college and leave
behind this side of the world. Don’t
blink. You get your driver’s license
and suddenly it’s like a whole
world has opened up. Don’t blink.
You’re a junior now, “hardest year
yet” they say. Only a few months
till you’re finally an adult. Don’t
blink. It’s your first day of senior
year and you still don’t know what
it is you’re doing but you go with it
anyway. One year left, you think.
This is your chance. Don’t blink.
Before you know it it’s the end of
senior year. Tears stream down
your face while you walk among
the peers you’ve grown up with
and all of a sudden you realize…
You blinked.

“Human, I Promise I
Won’t Eat You”
Third Place Winner!
By: Maya Wilson, Age 12, Idaho,
USA
Description: A misunderstood
dragon tries to have a friendly
conversation with a human.
Genre: Comedic

Hello little human! I’ve always

wanted to talk to one of you guys,
but never got the chance until now.
Sorry, I’m pinning you down, but
otherwise, I’m afraid you’ll run
away. (beat) No, I don’t terrorize
villages. You’re thinking of my twin
brother, he loves doing that. I have
never killed a human in my life.
Would you stop screaming, I am
not going to hurt you. (beat) If you
don’t want to get eaten, why did
you climb into my cave in the first
place? Tip; if you don’t want to
become a dragon’s lunch, then I
recommend you don’t waltz into
their home. (beat) Thank you for
finally realizing that I am your
friend. (beat) Do I like treasure?
Do I like treasure? Human, I am a
dragon, of course, I like treasure! If
I were you, I’d probably hide the
watch, necklace, earrings, and
rings before I take them. (beat)
Yeah, I do steal sometimes, but
my brother gave me half of the
jewels I have. Okay, he probably
destroyed a castle or two to get
that gold, but that’s my brother for
you. Speaking of him, he’s coming
over today, so you’d better scurry
along, it was nice to meet you!
And, you’re screaming again.

“A Scientific Study”
First Place Winner!
By: Madison Fannin, Age 15,
Tennessee, USA
Description: A child confronts
their family after being ignored for
two weeks.
Genre: Comedy

No one says good morning to me.

I did an experiment for two weeks
straight by not uttering a single
word to any of you first. My
hypothesis was proven correct. I
am not spoken to unless I speak
first. This is not a cry for help nor
an…”Oh please, Mother! Your
ignorance has driven me to my
breaking point!” No. This was
simply a scientific study. It’s
fascinating how my own family
managed to ignore my existence
for fourteen days. I wasn’t asked
to do any chores, or finish my
homework, and I didn’t have to
attend Uncle Wyatt’s funeral. RIP
Uncle Wyatt: if only you had seen
that bird headed straight for your
jugular. Anywho, being invisible
actually benefited me. I’m so glad
none of you care for me because
then I would actually have to care
for you guys, too. And that’s a lot
of work on my part. But, good
morning! Have a good day at
work! Don’t think about me too
much!

“I Pledge Allegiance”
Third Place Winner!
By: Luis H., Age 14, Illinois, USA
Description: A student interrupts
the pledge to question what it
means.
Genre: Dramatic

I pledge allegiance to the flag of

the…wait a minute. Excuse me Mr.
Jacobs. I’m sorry to interrupt, but
what does that mean? Pledge
allegiance? I’ve been saying the
pledge since I was five years old,
but I never really thought about it
until this exact moment. I pledge
allegiance to the flag. I mean
pledge means promise, right? And
I think allegiance means loyalty?
So, I promise to be loyal to the
flag? That’s weird. Why would I
promise anything to a flag. The
flag’s not a person. I mean I get
that it’s symbolic. The flag
represents our country. But, what if
our country is not living up to its
part of the deal? What if it’s not
being loyal to me? That doesn’t
seem fair. Why should I promise
my loyalty to a country that isn’t
loyal to me? Don’t get me wrong.
I’m happy I live here. I know I was
lucky to be born in this country.
But if I’m expected to be devoted
and faithful to this country that
believes in “justice for all,” doesn’t
that mean me too?

“Mariia”
First Place Winner!
By: Masha, Age 14, Switzerland
Description: Inspired by the
Drama Notebook “My Name”
lesson.
Genre: Dramatic

Call me Mara, because the

Almighty has sent me great
sorrow.

One of the oldest names we know.

In Hebrew, it means bitter,
desirable, serene.

For me, my name means long

Ukrainian songs. How many
Mariias have buried their
Cossacks, so many songs are
folded in Ukraine. How many
foxberries, with red berries, like
blood stand around the road, so
many bloody tears were shed by
young women, seeing their
husbands off to death.

For me, my name is a broken

Soviet dacha in Odessa on
Tehnicheskaya Street, the
nineties, stuffed cabbage rolls and
adjika, a curly, skinny little boy
who loves his grandmother. For
me, Mariia means hopelessness of
having nothing and only hope left.
For me, my name means good
taste in music, unhappiness, great
books on a shelf in a
Khrushchevka, career, marriage
and children — my name reminds
me of my father. It reminds me of
Odessa. The story of my family —
ordinary, miserable, with its silly
joys and such terrible
unhappiness.

Bitter fate of my people, bitter my

name, bitter tears were shed by
the dying, how many people drank
their fate with bitter vodka, so
many Mariias in the world, that
forever people remember their
sufferings and do not repeat
mistakes.

“Lost”
Second Place Winner!
By: Abbey Sourov, Age 14,
Seattle, Washington, USA
Description: Sixteen-year-old
Bianca is grieving and frustrated.
She is confronted by her sister as
she prepares to search for their
lost brother (who may or may not
be gone for good).
Genre: Dramatic

(Surprised, she gasps.) Oh. It’s

you. Why are you back here? I
thought I’d be alone, sneaking out
this late. You can’t tell anyone you
saw me here. Just listen to what
I’m about to say, okay? I’m going
to find our brother. I’ve got
everything I need, a camera, a
flashlight…(Summoning courage)
I’m going to find him, okay? And
you can’t convince me otherwise,
because I can’t just keep sitting
here, day after day, doing nothing,
and feeling so…so WORTHLESS!
(Tearing up. Exhales to calm
herself.) It’s just that everyone has
given up on him; even you and…
and our parents have decided to
move on, but I- I can’t…okay? I
can’t just…leave him! He wouldn’t
have left me. And I know he’s still
out there. He’s… He has to be.
And I can’t even live in this house
anymore, because it’s so full of his
memories, full of the things that we
did together. For crying out loud, I
sob when I see our favorite books
at the library, or those frogs at the
zoo we used to like. I feel like I’m
going insane, and I…(Gasping for
breath and trailing off)…I…
(Wiping her eyes) You gotta let me
go. I have to go. Alone. (Laughs
humorlessly) It’s funny…because I
really am so tired of being alone.

“Visit to the
Briarville Library”
Third Place Winner!
By: Elizabeth Pall, Age 16,
Florida, USA
Description: A bookkeeper from a
town stuck in time, welcomes a
guest to her library.
Genre: Dramatic

Oh! I didn’t see you there. Do

forgive me, we don’t get many
visitors to the Briarville Library. If
Dr. Reginald and his mad
experiments aren’t enough to
scare people off, the 500-step
staircase has a way of dissuading
guests. But I’m glad you’re here.
My name is Olivia Lester, I’m the
sole bookkeeper, and sole
inhabitant, here at the library. Well,
except for our resident ghost,
Arnold. He doesn’t say much. You
really couldn’t have come on a
better day. Today’s my 21st
birthday! Though, come to think of
it, yesterday was also my 21st
birthday. And so was the day
before that, and the day before
that, and the day before that. In
fact, I can’t remember a day when
it wasn’t my 21st birthday. Funny,
isn’t it? Ooh! Do you hear that?
That’s the bell tower; it’s 2 o’clock!
Come, come, look out this window
here. There! There he is. That
man down there, do you see him?
He comes by every day at exactly
two o’clock to feed the gargoyles.
Brave man he is, most of the
townsfolk are too scared to even
go near our stone beasts. An
irrational fear, of course, they’re
perfectly harmless. Most of the
time. I wonder who he is. Maybe
someday I’ll be brave enough to
ask his name and invite him into
the library. Maybe someday. Thank
you all for stopping in today.
Please, make yourself at home. If
you need any assistance don’t
hesitate to ask me. But watch out
for Vera our Venus Flytrap over
there. She’s been a bit peckish
lately and I don’t want any of you
fine guests to lose a finger.

“Halloween Mix-up”
First Place Winner!
By: Madison Brown, Age 16,
Idaho, USA
Description: A girl on Halloween
encounters someone with a really
cool and realistic costume.
Genre: Comedic

Hi! I saw you from across the

street, and I just gotta say, I love
your Halloween costume! It looks
so realistic! I mean the fur and the
teeth are really authentic. The
mask even moves when you talk.
It’s such a convincing werewolf,
you’d almost think it’s real!
Hahaha!! Honestly, it’s kinda
creepy. It looks like you could eat
me and my grandma up. Get it?
Because I’m Little Red Riding
Hood? And her whole story was…
whatever you get it. You know I
DIY’d my costume, and it took me
HOURS, but it’s nowhere near as
good as yours. Seriously, yours
puts mine to shame. Heck, it puts
everyone’s costume to shame. So
did you buy it or do it yourself?
(Don’t let him answer) I ALWAYS
make my own because I’m so
creative, but I understand that not
everyone is as talented as me!
Speaking of which, yours is so
good you should enter the
costume contest. I’d bet you win,
which sucks for me, but hey
maybe I’ll get second, which is in
some ways better than first.
(giggles) You’ll have to tell me
where you got your costume, so I
can win next year. If you tell me I’ll
invite you to my Halloween Party,
which is going to be like totally
cool, but if you don’t you can’t
come! JK!!! Hahaha (Serious) But
not really. So, tell me where did
you get it? (He answers) Oh!
You’re a real werewolf. (awkward
silence) Whatever, you can still
come to my Halloween Party.

“By the Mystic

Monologues of
Munnopor”
Second Place Winner!
By: Henry Osher, Age 17,
Connecticut, USA
Description: Hero interrupts the
Villain’s monologue
Genre: Comedic

Listen buddy, I’m gonna stop you

right there. You don’t understand
how many times I’ve heard this
kind of thing already. I’m honestly
sick of monologues. You’re just
gonna waste my time explaining
your master plan and patting
yourself on the back even though
we both already know how this is
gonna go. I’m gonna send you
packing like I do to everyone else,
and you’ll end up nothing more
than a two-bit, D-list villain with an
inferiority complex. If this was a
comic book, they’d put you in a
filler issue, give you a mediocre
backstory, and never talk about
you again. All you’re gonna be is a
piece of trivia for superhero nerds
with nothing better to spend their
time on. But me? I’m the Golden
Boy! I literally get paid to beat up
people like you. So I have an idea,
instead of giving me a novel, how
about you just sum it up in a few
words and let me enjoy the rest of
my Sunday? What’s it gonna be?
Kidnapping the Mayor? Bridge
bombing? Mass mind control? I’ve
seen it all buddy. You’re nothing
special. That’s what you gotta get
through your thick skull. You’ll
never be an archenemy or on the
starting roster of an evil team.
You’ll never take over the world or
have any henchmen. You’ll never
do anything with your sad little life
and that’s that. Oh, did I make you
cry? Sorry man, but the truth hurts.
You know what they say; if you
can’t handle the heat, stay out of
the kitchen. Now let’s get this over
with.

“Am I the Only

One?”
Third Place Winner!
By: Emma Morrill, Age 18,
Michigan, USA
Description: A girl addresses her
bullying in a video she uploads for
the world to see.
Genre: Dramatic

(Turns webcam on) I could come

on here and say I am fine, and that
today was an amazing day, but
that would be lying. My life has
been nothing but painful for the
past two years, with names thrown
at me from every direction and
pranks pulled on me just to see
me in pain and agony. My self-
esteem has gone down, and half
of the time I don’t even want to
show up to school or be seen at a
store or a mall. Bullying has been
my life at school and even on the
internet. People say such cruel
and harsh things…and I believe
them sometimes. What have I
done to deserve this? Why can’t
everyone just be accepted for who
they are? I’ve been dieting and
trying new styles just to make
people like me more. But even
then they make fun of me. Even
when I lost ten pounds, or when
the clothing was their style! I’ve
started wearing baggy clothes
because I am seen as overweight.
I wear makeup due to the fact that
I am seen as a monster with a
bunch of acne. Will it ever stop? I
literally come home in tears, but
nobody cares what I think. The
more bullying happens to me the
more I become depressed. Anxiety
hits me from every angle. I want to
change schools and throw away
social media to get away from the
one thing that is stopping me from
being happy. Bullies. If society
keeps going on like this the teen
world will be in shambles. I just
have to say one more thing. Is
bullying truly what the world
needs? Or do we need to rebuild
the world on peace and trust?
(Turns off the webcam and
uploads video to YouTube).

“Circle of
Unhappiness”
First Place Winner!
By: Isabelle Bidal, Age 18,
Ontario, Canada
Description: A young teenager
struggles with their appearance
and clothing
Genre: Dramatic

It’s not that I don’t think I’m

beautiful, I do… sometimes. The
problem is that no matter how
many times you tell me this shirt
doesn’t make me look bad or that
skirt fits perfectly, the mirror tells
me otherwise. I mean how long
will it take for me to realize it
doesn’t matter? It’s one thing to
say but I need to believe it. I know
I should just wear things that make
me happy. I know that nobody
cares enough to judge what I look
like when they have their own
insecurities. I know it isn’t worth
this much energy and anxiety, but I
can’t stop. The shirt is too tight, or
too loose, or not the right colour,
and the pants are too rigid, or too
short, or too… everything. I’m just
in this circle of unhappiness
because I don’t look like I want to.
I don’t look like everyone else, and
I don’t know how to fix it. But…
maybe that’s okay. Maybe, just
maybe, if I could find happiness in
people and experiences, rather
than clothes and looks, I would
wake up and look forward to
picking an outfit every day.
Maybe… a source of anxiety could
become a source of joy. It just
takes a lot of work, and I don’t
know if I can do it.

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

“Is it a Fairytale?”
Second Place Winner!
By: Addie Page, Age 12, Idaho
USA
Description: A girl texts a boy that
she likes him.
Genre: Comedy

(pacing) Oh, what should I say?

What should I say? (stops pacing)
Oh, I know! (starts texting) I’d like
to tell you something. Just promise
you won’t make fun of me. I’ve
liked you for quite some time now
and have decided to confess my
feelings. (accidentally sends it) Oh
no!! I just sent it. What if he thinks
I’m weird for liking him? What if he
likes me back? (to herself) Oh,
stop it Linsay! You know he won’t
like you back. This is real life, not
a fairytale! I know! I’ll just try and
make a cover story. (looks at
phone nervously) Uh oh! He saw
it! He’s typing!! (waits a second)
He… stopped. I can’t believe I had
hoped that he would like me. I
mean look at me! I’m just the
nerdy, smart girl that no one likes.
(looks at the phone again and
looks shocked) He likes me back! I
think life just might be a fairytale!

“Scars”
Third Place Winner!
By: Cassie F
Description: A girl with a skin
condition acknowledges all her
scars and learns to embrace them.
Genre: Dramatic

The first time I remember being

“physically hurt” I was probably 7
or 8, and I was on a bicycle. My
sister left her scooter on the road,
and I went crashing into it. All I
saw was a blur of the ground, and
then the sky, then the ground, and
then sky again. My mom
screamed and came running to
help me. When I realized what had
happened, I was bleeding from my
arms, knees, knuckles…pretty
much any exposed skin that you
can imagine. I have scars from
that one. The second time I
remember being hurt is when I
was maybe 9 or so. I was so
dumb. I tried diving headfirst into a
pool that was 4 feet deep. Yeah,
you can probably imagine how
well that went. I hit the top of my
forehead. It took about a roll of
paper towels to clear away the
blood…and tears if I’m being
honest. Those scars never really
affected me. I never thought twice
about it when kids at school would
ask how I got them. But when it
comes to my skin condition, those,
those get to me. I have blotches
on my arms and the backs of my
knees that I can’t get rid of no
matter what. They won’t tan, and
no lotion or potion will erase them.
They just exist. I’ve had them for
as long as I can remember, and I
have no clue why God chose me
to have them. But, that’s just how
it turned out. Most days they make
me feel disgusting and ugly. When
people see the scars or the
blotches, I freeze. I’m worried
they’ll think horrible things about
me. But those splotches and
blotches are a part of me. All my
scratches, scrapes, and slices are.
All my scars are. And in a way, I
love them. They show where I’ve
been, but also give me hope for
where I’m going. They show how
I’ve been hurt, but also how I’ve
healed. I guess I love them. My
scars are beautiful.

“Misunderstandings
of a Villain”
First Place Winner!
By: Joy Seon, Age 12, Illinois,
USA
Description: A villain tries to
persuade you that they are the
good guy.
Genre: Comedic

Sorry about the whole blindfolding

and kidnapping thing. Here, let me
just take this blindfold off…there
you go! Welcome to my secret lair!
Pretty cool, right? (sigh) Could you
stop yelling for help so much?
You’re hurting my ears. I promise
you I am not a bad guy… here. I
only kidnapped you because you
knew my secret identity. What else
was I supposed to do? Let you tell
everyone who I really am? No
way. (beat) What was that? The
‘heroes’ will save you? They’re not
heroes. They’re the bad guys!
(beat) Stop saying I’m the bad
guy! I do tons of great things. I
have a family…yes, it’s an evil
crime family, but I also have a pet
cat! What villain has a cat? (beat)
No, I do not stroke it with one hand
while laughing madly. What can I
say to convince you I’m not a bad
guy? I do community service…
which by community service, I
mean, committing crimes for my
community. I also help elders get
up when they fall down…after I
push them. Okay, I can see why
you might think I’m a villain, but I
swear on my cat that I’m not! Oh
shoot, the alarm is going off!
Probably some so-called heroes
here to rescue you. Don’t you dare
move a muscle. I’ll be right back.

“Lab Versus the

Bunny”
First Place Winner!
By: Sanjana Bhahirathan, Age 13,
Sydney, Australia
Description: A bunny finds itself
in a lab that tests animals.
Genre: Dramatic

This all began on Monday.

Monday the 26th of April. 44
hours, 36 minutes, and 50…7
seconds ago. I was simply
chowing down on a carrot stick,
when all of a sudden, I felt sick
and dizzy. Then everything turned
pitch black. The next thing you
know, I found myself here, inside
this chilly, dark, and ominous-
looking structure. I really thought I
was dead… but then I discovered
my long-lost uncle! We had a nice
catch-up and blah blah blah…
Then suddenly the dreaded words
came out. I didn’t want to believe
him, but I had to. We are being
tested for beauty products; Brands
like Chanel, Dior! How did I go
from being a happy rabbit living a
life of freedom, to being chained
up and tortured? They are
experimenting on us with
chemicals! Excuse me aren’t we
entitled to a life? We are being
held as if we were lab rats. There
is no light. I’ve tried to flee, but I’m
stuck. The only time I can escape
is in my dreams. I dream of
carrots, carrots, and more carrots.
But then I wake up and I feel the
excruciating pain. My shoulder, my
skin, my muscles…completely
burned through. It’s unbearable.
I’m not going to die in misery
though. Will you help me?

“Wedged”
First Place Winner!
By: Isabelle Bidal, Age 18,
Ontario, Canada
Description: A straight-A student
finds themself in detention
Genre: Comedic

Hey! Can you stop? Just for a

second? Tapping your pencil on
my chair for this whole 30 minutes
won’t make the time go by quicker.
(tapping persists) Okay, fine, you
want to talk? I can talk. Let’s start
with this – I have NEVER been in
detention. Okay? I have been a
straight-A student since I came out
of the womb. I have participated in
clubs you have never even heard
of and my extracurricular record
spans 5 pages. I have been
captain of the debate club since
you said your first word and
believe it or not, sitting here beside
(pause) obvious genius’ like you is
not exactly how I wanted to spend
my time tonight. Why am I here?
All I wanted to do was share some
of my knowledge with this girl in
class. (embarrassed)
Unfortunately for me, I may have
gone a bit overboard and called
her a stupid wheel of cheese…
Now I’ll never be invited to her
parties… It’s not my fault some
people are just born idiots…
(pause) Can you.. Stop tipping
your chair back. You’re gonna…
aaaand you fell.

“From Ribeye to
Filet Mignon”
First Place Winner!
By: Liam Cantin, Age 12, Quebec,
Canada
Description: A middle aged dog is
determined to not like babies…
Especially not the one his human
parents have brought home.
Genre: Comedic

This is the worse day of my life, for

real this time. Worse than the time
I had a tick stuck in my ear. I
swear it wasn’t my fault. It was a
big misunderstanding. I never
intended to chew and steal the
pacifier, I thought it was for me, a
new gift! You would’ve snapped
too if your owner brought back one
of those revolting creatures, also
known as a B.A.B.Y. Man, all they
do is cry and cry and cry, twenty-
four seven. This baby has stolen
ALL of MY attention. How do you
think that makes me feel, huh?
One minute they’re all like aww
who’s a good boy, who wants a
doggy ice cream treat, do you
want a belly rub, or a head
scratch? What about a nice LONG
walk? Then of course “Baby Erk”
had to drop into our home. And
they just dumped me, that’s right,
dumped me for that ugly, smelly,
poop machine. I’m lucky if I eat
three times a day. I used to get
Ribeye, now all I get is Filet
Mignon, the portion size dropped
significantly, as well as the fat
content! Uhhhh, I just vomited,
thinking about him. You know what
I need? A vacation. That would
feel sooo good. I’d finally get a
break from him pulling my poor tail
and plucking my precious apricot
colored-fur. Oh yes, my nose
would finally be able to smell the
sweet scent of roses. I wouldn’t be
stressed to step in his “acid reflux”
secretions. Oh, is that a piece of
PB&J he just threw on the floor?
You know what, maybe “Baby Erk”
isn’t so bad? Maybe I can tolerate
him? Just this once. No!!! I didn’t
say we can be friends…don’t go
putting words into my mouth!

“The Audition”
Second Place Winner!
By: Karly Anderson, Age 14,
Texas, USA
Description: A young person is
nervous about a big audition.
Genre: Comedic-Dramatic

Don’t you get it? Today is the day

of THE audition. The audition
where all my dreams could finally
become a reality. I’m totally
pumped. Well, except for the fact
I’m scared. But just a little. I mean
just because it’s my first major
audition doesn’t mean I should
worry. I mean naturally, I’m a
worry-free person. But what if I
don’t make it? What if I don’t get
the part? That would be so
embarrassing. I would have to
change my name. I would never
be able to show my face in public.
I might have to move to a foreign
land and live alone with 2 cats in
an abandoned warehouse
because I can’t make a living
because no one wants to hire the
girl who couldn’t land the role she
had prepared for, for so long.
(Moment of realization) Ok so
maybe I’m like totally petrified.

“The Perfect Day”

Second Place Winner!
By: Kara Smith, Age 14, North
Carolina, USA
Description: A student is asked to
imagine their perfect day.
Genre: Dramatic

What’s my idea of the perfect day?

Honestly, it would have to be when
I was six or seven years old.
Those were the days when I didn’t
feel anxiety or sadness. The only
thing I worried about was missing
an assignment at school or
dropping my ice cream on the
floor. Life was good and easy, like
nothing in the world could hurt me.
Now things are different and
unstable…like a terrible patchwork
put together. But if I could
magically have that perfect day, it
really wouldn’t matter the location.
Preferably I’d like for it to be
something like a big day out with
my family. Then I’d get to talk to
my friends about how great it was.
And my old childhood friend would
still be kind to me. Or maybe the
perfect day would be playing with
my cousin at my old house with no
chaos or drama to disrupt it all.
Just two kids playing. Or maybe
the perfect day would just be a
regular, calm day in elementary
school. Back when the kids
weren’t loud and obnoxious. When
they weren’t mean and tormenting.
Back when the teachers would
only discipline the ones who
deserved it, not the innocent ones.
But I guess we can’t go back in
time, can we? We just have to
move on and let our scars tell the
stories. Who knows, maybe there
will be a perfect day in the future. I
hope so.

“The Long Walk

Home”
Third Place Winner!
By: Sena Ramlyn
Description: Someone is lost on
their way home after making an
impulsive decision to take a
different route through the forest.
Genre: Dramatic

It’s been hours and I’m still lost.

(looks around) Where am I? I think
this is the right way, but I’m still
scared. What if I don’t ever find my
way back? (shaking head) I knew I
never should’ve taken this route. I
know better than to trust my
instincts. (to self) Calm down, you
will be okay. You will find your way
back. I wish it was that easy. I
don’t know which way to go, and
this forest is so creepy and full of
shadows! (sits on a tree stump)
Why did I take this route? What
did I expect would happen? I am
so lost. I don’t even want to go
back! How am I going to explain
this whole situation? Even if I try, I
know I’ll get the inevitable “Why
didn’t you take the normal route?”
which will make me even more
embarrassed. I just want to go
home, man. (standing) I guess I’ll
just have to keep going even
though this eerie forest is making
me feel like I’m going insane.
There has to be a way out of here.
I’ll find it eventually.

“Scared of the
Dark”
First Place Winner!
By: CJ Lawrence, Age 14,
Minnesota, USA
Description: A girl explains to her
brother why she doesn’t go out at
night.
Genre: Dramatic

You’re asking why I don’t go out

alone at night? Well, let me tell
you. I don’t go out alone at night
because of the possibilities. Now
don’t get me wrong, there are so
many good possibilities hiding in
the darkness. Seeing all of the
stars and constellations, finding an
underground party filled with bright
lights and happy faces, seeing the
world from a different perspective
than I see during the day. These
are all reasons I want to go out at
night. But there are also the
reasons that I don’t. They’re also
the reasons I walk against the flow
of traffic, why I carry pepper spray
in my pocket, and text my friends
my location every time I go on a
date. Because yes, the night holds
good possibilities. But it also holds
so dark ones. And if I’m being
honest, the bad things outweigh
the good. So I settle for staying
home at night. That way I don’t
have to worry about all of the
things that could go right or could
go wrong if I go out into the
darkness.

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!
 “Inner Thoughts of
an Ex-Lioness”
First Place Winner!
By: Erin Ryan, age 18,
Pennsylvania, USA
Description: A cat muses on how
its mistress doesn’t appreciate it
enough.
Genre: Comedic

I can’t believe this; I’m locked out

again. After all I do for her,
following her around the house to
keep her safe, bringing her gifts,
that I have hunted for her. And yet,
she chooses to keep me locked
outside of this door. I can sit here,
and I can meow for hours,
knowing she’s right inside. But
rarely does she open the door to
me now. (pause) Perhaps it is
because I take a special interest in
some of her plants. But I think they
are rather nice against my fangs
and surely, she would understand
that. I mean I see her do
something with her teeth, it must
be similar right? But every time I
try to do something with my teeth I
get shooed out. (pause) I have
been her protector since I came
here. If only they would try to
understand me. When I walk to the
door that is clearly a sign I no
longer wish to be here. But she
waits for me to sit and beg, like
some kind of… dog. (pause)
Although I guess she can be
useful for some things like bringing
down the jar of the magic tasty
food and cleaning out the old poop
box. But other than that, honestly, I
could live alone. I used to run
outside all day and night before I
came here. Now I’m forced to stay
inside, just watching the nature
that I used to prowl. So, when I
ask for things like to be let into her
room, I expect a little more pep in
the step. Especially since they
have tamed me into a protector.
(gasp) Don’t even get me started
on those things they call dogs. Oh!
Big. Wet. Smelly. And there’s two
of them. They’re the bane of my
existence. I will not make friends
with such oafish creatures. I will
stick to my own. And keep yelling
at the door, hoping one day she’ll
let me in again.

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

“After the Movie”

Second Place Winner!
By: Tesia Hennessy, Age 15,
South Carolina, USA
Description: A teen is frustrated
that their parent doesn’t accept
them despite all they’ve done to try
to conform.
Genre: Dramatic
I do work hard. Maybe not in the
way you think, but I work hard. I
work hard to be utterly ordinary. I
work hard to get good grades, but
to not be the top of my class. I
work hard to be funny, but to not
be known as “the funny friend.” I
work hard to be sporty, but not too
sporty, to be artsy but not too
artsy, to be quirky but to make
sure that my quirks are normal.
For example, I like yellow, the
least liked color. I know everything
there is to know about The Lord of
the Rings, but only because – your
words, not mine – I “went through
a phase in middle school. ”I wear
normal clothes. Do my hair in a
normal way. Have a normal
sleeping schedule, have normal
reactions- I laugh the appropriate
amount at sit-coms. I cry the
appropriate amount at dramas. I’m
scared the appropriate amount at
horrors, and I’m thrilled the
appropriate amount at thrillers. I’ve
calculated every move, gesture,
emotion, facial expression, every
minute detail to the “perfect
normal” because all you ever
wanted was a normal kid, but it’s
just not enough. Because when
we’re at the movies, and it’s too
loud, I can’t leave because “it’s
loud for everyone.” And I can’t buy
candy with my own money
because “it’s unfair” even though
everyone else is eating popcorn
that you bought for them, but I
can’t stand the texture of popcorn.
I’m sick of being normal for you. I
am sick. At least, you think I’m
sick. And maybe I am, but I’m not
going to pretend I’m normal
anymore. I’m tired of sacrificing my
identity just to make your life a
little more comfortable.

“What Luck!”
Third Place Winner!
By: Isaac T., age 14, California,
USA
Description: A long-time player of
the lottery runs into some bad
luck.
Genre: Comedic

For years now I’ve played the

lottery. And in doing so, I’ve
wasted so much time and money.
Not only that, but I end up losing
more than I win. Heck, I’ve never
won! Well, okay, fine. That’s a lie. I
did buy of those cheap $1 tickets
before, and guess what I won?!
Another ticket! Isn’t that just the
bee’s knees! But that’s not even
the worst of it! One day, they had a
special lottery offer. The prize was
millions! I went out and bought as
many tickets as I could afford.
Which was quite a few, mind you.
Apparently, I’m not the only one
who likes to gamble though. There
were tons of people waiting in line
after me. And oh boy! When they
found out that I had bought the last
ticket, things start getting
interesting. People yelled,
screamed, argued. Most surprising
of all though, people started
whipping out their money to buy
the tickets from ME. At first, I didn’t
know what to do. I didn’t dare give
up even a single ticket. What if
one of them was the winner? If I
gave up even one of them up,
would I give up my chances of
winning? But, as quickly as I
thought those things, I asked
myself, “What are my chance of
winning really?” Like, honestly…
I’ve never won a thing in my life.
Except for that other ticket of
course. But here, right now, I could
sell the tickets I had already
bought and make a tidy little profit.
So, I sold them for a little more
than I paid, and by the end of the
day I had made about double of
what I had spent. Plus, I still had
two tickets with me! And being in
good spirits, I went home and
gave one of the tickets to my
newly 18-year-old brother,
absolutely free. And what
happened then you ask? Well, the
next thing I know, the numbers
were announced and, like always,
I didn’t win. But someone I know
did! And that someone was my
brother. The brother to whom I
gave the ticket to! The brother who
had never even played the lottery
before that day! The brother who
didn’t share a single cent with me!!
Didn’t even say thank you!!! The
brother who then moved out and
we never heard from him again!
What luck!

“What Are You So

Afraid Of?”
First Place Winner!
By: Trinity Marmo, Age 14,
Washington, USA
Description: No one can convince
this child to get on the boat. The
ocean is a scary place and a
child’s imagination is even scarier.
Genre: Comedic
I can’t swim and you want me to
go on a boat in the MIDDLE of the
ocean. I would rather stay here on
the docks, thank you very much.
(Referencing stuffed rabbit) Mrs.
Bunny says I can´t go, and you
know nothing will change her
mind. She’s scared of the ocean
and her stuffing could get wet!
(Not convincing, they turn to new
tactics.) Please, don’t make me
go! What if I fall in, what happens
then? The ocean is so
unpredictable. What if a shark
bites my head off? Or some crazy
sea monster grabs my legs and
pulls me down. Have you seen the
creepy stuff that’s down there? Not
even scuba gear can save us from
the horrors of the ocean! Frankly, I
don’t know how YOU aren’t scared
of the ocean. There are so many
things to be afraid of. (Dramatically
sets the scene) Seriously just
imagine it, a storm suddenly hits,
the air grows cold, and the sky
darkens. You feel yourself panic,
the waves getting bigger and
bigger! You look to your left and a
gigantic wave is coming towards
you! See doesn’t that sound scary
to you? Well, I know it’s a sunny
day, but it could still happen!
Please don’t make me go on that
boat!

“Pressure”
First Place Winner!
By: Jeremiah Young, Age 16,
Kansas, USA
Description: A student struggles
with their life
Genre: Dramatic

My sister gets away with

everything. According to my
parents and all the teachers, my
sister, the class president, the
popular kid, the star student, is
excellent and never does anything
wrong. Everyone holds me up to
her standards. It’s always, “When
Emily was your age, she
already…”, or “maybe if you just
follow what Emily does, you would
do it right.” I am sick and tired of
always being compared to her. No
one ever stops to think about my
feelings. They never seem to care
about anything that concerns me
unless I make a mistake. I know I
am not the best at, well, anything,
but is it too much to ask for a
“good job Julien” or “we are so
proud of you”? It must be too hard
because I haven’t heard anyone
say that stuff to me my whole life.
Just once, I want the praise that
Emily gets. Just once, I want to be
a good comparison. I don’t want to
be the screw-up that I am. People
say you shouldn’t live for the
praise of other people, but I think
the opposite is true. Praise means
you’re actually doing something
right in your life. I’ve never gotten
any recognition, so clearly, I must
not be doing anything right. And I
have no clue where I would even
start. No matter what I do, I don’t
think I’ll ever be good enough.
What breaks me the most is that
no one sees me hurting. No one
sees me cry. Not because I don’t
show it, but because they don’t
bother looking for it.

“Deployed Brother”
Third Place Winner!
By: Shelby Diner
Description: A teenager tries to
write a letter to their brother who is
in the military
Genre: Dramatic

(Jack is sitting at his desk in his

room with a single piece of paper
and a pencil on his desk.)
Ok, where to start? (Taps pencil on
his head) Hey Jason, the house is
quiet without you here. (Grabs the
paper and crumbles it up) Why is
this so dang hard!!!! UHHHH.
What should I write? Hey Jason.
Life is boring without you here and
it makes me so upset that you are
overseas. UH! (Grabs a new piece
of paper) Hey Jason, the house is
quiet and boring without you here.
Life has been rough, people at
school are laughing and making
fun of me, they say things like (in a
funny accent) “You’re so ugly” or
“Wow where do you get your
clothes,” and it reminds me of
when you used to stand up for me.
I’m almost always late to school
because mom wakes up so late.
Please come back and fix
everything. (Looks across the hall)
Your room is very dark. I opened
the windows and watered your
plants. Your trophies are all dusty.
The pool is green, and I don’t
know how to fix it. I tried to mow
the lawn, but I think I messed up
and the lawnmower doesn’t work
anymore. Please come home, I
miss you. – Love, Jack (Grabs
paper folds it up, and puts it in an
envelope)

“Her Last Words”

First Place Winner!
By: Emily McLaren, Age 14,
Sydney, Australia
Description: Medusa waits in her
cave at the top of a mountain
hidden from the world, until
Perseus arrives with a sharp
sword and shield.
Genre: Dramatic

You don’t waste time, do you? I

thought it would take longer for
you to arrive. It’s quite a
momentous mountain. The other
men took far longer. (Medusa is
amused at Perseus looking at the
statues surrounding him) Don’t be
scared, they can’t hurt you.
They’re just… statues, now. So,
am I right to assume you’ve come
for my head? It was wise of you to
bring a shield. No one’s been
smart enough to try that before.
Though I suppose it wasn’t really
your idea, was it? Only someone
with the blessings of Athena could
have enough foresight to think of
using something shiny to deflect
my gaze…You won’t need it. I’m
not planning on turning you to
stone anyway. There is just
something I need you to do for me,
and my head is yours. All you
have to do is turn princess
Andromeda and Poseidon’s Sea
serpent into stone. After that I
don’t mind what you do. You will
have a deadly weapon for life. No
one will dare oppose you. That
power will be better in your hands
then mine. It will be better if I’m
dead. My life is useless anyway. I
can’t make any friends, can’t fall in
love, or be loved, and I can’t even
walk into town without everyone
around me turning into garden
ornaments. The only thing I want
to have before I leave this world is
the knowledge that I got my
revenge on Athena, the goddess
who made me like this. If you
turned Andromeda to stone
Athena would be furious. Turning
the serpent to stone wouldn’t hurt
either. After all, Poseidon is the
reason why Athena was even mad
to begin with. If he hadn’t made
me fall in love with him, I never
would have been turned into…
this! And besides, if you turn that
monster into stone, you’ll be a
hero! You won’t even need to
barter the fates for your fame like
Achilles did! You’ll be famous
without any drawbacks! Though if
you go back on your word and
marry the princess, I swear I’ll be
cursing you from the underworld.
You’ll have to live with that regret
for the rest of your days. Knowing
that you angered an old priestess
tired of the world and its trials. So,
do we have a deal?

“Are You There

God? It’s Me
Cassidy”
Second Place Winner!
By: Amira Reid, Age 16, Ontario,
Canada
Description: A teenager reaches
out to God to get some answers
about her recently dead friend.
Genre: Dramatic

People come to you when they

need answers right? I guess that’s
why I’m here, I need an answer. I
want to know why she did it, and
why I was stupid enough to never
suspect her. I mean that stupid
account basically ruined my life! I
know that’s weird to say now that
she’s dead, but everyone was
talking about me, laughing at me,
and making fun of me. Ellie helped
me pick myself up by day, and by
night wrote about how hilarious it
all was in her diary. Am I even
allowed to be mad at her? She
was my best friend and I loved her
so much, but how can I watch the
entire school honour her memory
and think she’s a saint when she
was the reason most of the
students were depressed? Listen I
don’t know how this works
exactly… I’m not … you know the
religious type. I don’t suppose you
can just locate her quickly up there
and ask why she did it and then
pass the message on to me?
(waits for a response) Yeah… I
didn’t think so.

“Liar”
Third Place Winner!
By: Alyssa Flowers, Age 14
Description: This person has
been lying for so long they are not
sure why want to stop.
Genre: Dramatic

Someone who knows me well

enough might call me a liar. I call it
decorating the truth. I mean, what
you don’t know can’t hurt you,
right? I’ve been this was as long
as I can remember. Everyone
around me thinks I am a goody
two-shoes, always doing
everything to the best of my ability,
wouldn’t hurt a fly. The only person
who sees me for who I truly am is
my best friend, Rebecca. She is
the one who taught me how to lie
without giving myself away. It’s
come in very useful with the lie
detector tests I’ve been through. I
know I should start telling the truth,
but honestly, it’s nice when people
think you’re better than they are.
It’s nice when they think you have
everything they don’t have. It gives
you a superior feeling. And I don’t
think I want that feeling to go away
quite yet.
 “Is This Normal?”
By: Amira Reid, Age 16, Ontario,
Canada
Description: A teen talks to her
mom about how her life is far from
normal.
Genre: Dramatic

The first memory I have isn’t

happy or filled with laughter. It’s
being drowned in a bathtub
because Pedro was asked to give
me a bath instead of playing
soccer with his buddies down the
street. Was that normal for you
Mom? Did you not think maybe
that was a red flag? Then there
was the time I woke up in the
middle of the night and had to use
the bathroom. I was just a little kid
and in Guatemala we had to go
outside to use the bathroom.
Pedro was mad I woke him up so
he hit me. And kicked me. Was
that normal to you Mother? But I
guess that led to something
wonderful because when
Grandma, Nene, found out I got to
live with her in America. I
remember waking up and crawling
in her bed to warm up. I remember
her fingernails gently scratching
my head as she scrubbed
shampoo into my hair. I remember
drinking chocolate milk while she
drank coffee. She would walk me
down the street to catch the bus. I
remember having sleepovers and
playdates with my cousin. Nene
would take us to the gas station
where she would buy us huge ice
cream cones. That’s what I wanted
my normal to be. I wanted to stay
in her safe little bubble forever. But
when you came and took me
away, I never really felt safe again.
Every time we moved to another
house there was one of THOSE
memories. I would do something,
anything, like literally anything
miniscule and it would irritate you
and “give you anxiety.” Your
mental illness was an excuse to
take a belt to my face, throw me
into a cupboard, choke me, push
me up against bricks. Was that
normal for you? I know you said
Nene neglected you, but she was
a single mother with three girls,
and she couldn’t afford all the
things you wanted. I want things
too, but for now I have to be a
mother to my brothers, fight
suicidal thoughts, figure out how
not to fear men, and try to sort out
what normal means.

“Ifs and Whys”

By: Marina Paul, Age 16, Utah,
USA
Description: Daughter confronts
her mother about their
relationship.
Genre: Dramatic

Sometimes I wish we could just

get over ourselves. Just go back to
the way things were when I was a
little girl watching Finding Nemo in
the living room and climbing up the
stairs like a monkey at 5 am. What
happened to us? How did we get
here? Did I do something wrong?
All I wanted was to be open with
you and become who I really am.
We used to be best friends.
Remember when we used to take
trips to the library and perform
puppet shows for each other?
Now, we just have meaningless
conversations full of nothing.
Sometimes I wish we could just sit
and talk. Face to face. I wish I had
the words in me to give to you.
You deserve more than a daughter
like me. Everyone in this family
does. But the little girl everyone
used to laugh at, and praise is
gone now. I don’t know where she
is. Maybe it’s too late for us. Funny
how these things work.

“Campaign Speech”
First Place Winner!
By: Jared Goudsmit, Age 18
Description: Dean goes full
populist in his bid for Class
President.
Genre: Comedic

Look, I could talk credentials. I

could tell you all about my
experience in the JROTC. I could
flex my Debate Club prowess. I
could mention offhand that I am, in
fact, an Eagle Scout. I could, but I
won’t, because I’m not here to
show off.

No, I’m here to talk about you. You

get up every day before the sun
rises. The bus is late. Your locker
is jammed, the custodial staff
couldn’t care less. Your desks are
full of busywork, your lunch trays
are full of mush, and your teachers
are full of – you know, uh,
nonsense. I say it time and time
again: This whole operation, this
machine they’re running you
through, it has no interest in you.

Now, I’ve pushed for reform! But

when I try and do something to fix
this place, I’m dismissed. “We are
not hiring caterers, Dean, eat your
casserole.” “Dean, the Anglerfish
with a Missile Launcher is not an
acceptable school mascot.”
“Foolish Dean, the hallway is no
place for a Slip ‘N Slide.” We’ve all
heard it, in the same
condescending tone, a million
times before: “You’re just a child.”
Well, po-tay-to, po-tah-to. You say
I’m “just some kid,” I say I have
fourteen years of life experience,
thank you very much, and when
I’m elected? I’ll stop at nothing to
get you what you want.

Now, my opponent has

credentials. High class rank,
Honor Society… every teacher’s
favorite. Rose is a shoo-in, right? I
see the appeal. I mean, she works
like a, uh… oh, what’s the word?
Right! A machine.

So go ahead. Vote for Rose… if

you’re content. But if you’re fed up
with the powers that be, if you’re
sick and tired of being overlooked,
if you want to see a Tammany Hall
Junior High that reflects your
needs… if you’re like me? Then
Fight the Machine! And vote for
Dean.

“A Look into my
Mirror”
Second Place Winner!
By: Gracyn Eitel, Age 14
Description: A Look into my
Mirror
Genre: Dramatic

When I look at myself in the mirror,

I don’t see my looks. I see the
inside. You see, when I was little, I
was a naughty troublemaker. But,
like most children, I eventually
learned from my parents how to be
kind and loving. They taught me
by their example. It was a happy
childhood. I even had a horse!
Every night Majestic and I would
ride to where the sun touches the
earth. I was devastated when he
died. But losing him taught me that
sometimes life is sad. It taught me
how to grieve. When I got my first
iPhone, I spent days glued to the
screen. I didn’t even realize what I
was missing out on. It took a while,
but I finally decided to put the
phone down and live in the real
world. That’s when I learned to be
social; To appreciate my friends
and family. Then there was the
time I was sitting in a classroom
facing the chalkboard. The science
teacher was teaching us about
watersheds. I learned that creeks
and rivers carve and shape their
way, leading to a big body of
water. This got me thinking about
myself, and all the things that have
shaped me; They are like the
creeks and rivers of my life and I
am that big body of water. My
parents, Majestic, even my
iPhone, have made me who I am
today. I guess that’s how I’m able
to look past my appearance. When
I look in the mirror today, I see the
inside. I see me.

“The Crush”
Third Place Winner!
By: Nicholas Schaeffer, Age 12,
Ontario Canada
Description: : A nerdy kid asks
his friend for advice on how he can
talk to a girl he finds cute.
Genre: Comedy

I need some advice. (Shyly) I

kinda like the new girl Jessica.
(Quickly warning!) But you can’t
tell anyone ok! I’m just not sure the
best way to approach her. (In a
very nerdy way) Statistics show
that the easiest way to get
someone to like you is to be
popular. But I’m not popular.
Science also shows that to
become popular you should spend
time with popular people. (Snaps
fingers with idea!) Wait a minute.
Why don’t I talk to Jake? He is
definitely the coolest kid in school.
How can I impress him? Throw a
football 20 yards? Break the
school record in track and field?
Do a backflip? Ugh! You’re right.
Who am I kidding? I can’t do any
of those things! I’ve got it. I’ll just
give him the answers for the test.
That’s easy. That will totally make
him think I’m cool. Next thing you
know, I’ll be popular. Maybe then
I’ll get up the courage to talk to
Jessica.

“Embodiment”
First Place Winner!
By: Audrey Robbins, Age 13,
Florida USA
From: Ontario, Canada
Description: A monologue about
girls struggling with social status
Genre: Dramatic

There are always days when you

feel horrible, but what if it’s every
day? What if you never feel happy
or excited about anything? What if
you wake up every day feeling like
you just want to disappear, sink
into a cloud of nothing? I can’t
speak for every girl, but I can
speak for the ones who know what
I’m talking about. Every day you
wake up and put on multiple outfits
and hope one isn’t too revealing or
“slutty” or hope it’s not too boring
or basic because the standards
people set for you are either high
or low and you have to meet the
standard or you have to go above
and beyond to prove that you are
something. You take a few
minutes to decide how you’re
going to do your hair and how
you’re going to do your makeup
and if you even want to do
makeup. You hope and hope no
one criticizes your hair or your
clothes or your makeup.
Sometimes you don’t even want
the good compliments because
they make you feel bad because
you feel like what you wear
shouldn’t matter. People can take
one look at you, and make a
judgement that lasts a lifetime.
You could have one bad day and it
could ruin everything.

“Driven”
Second Place Winner!
By: Tessa Lassinger, Age 15,
Washington, USA
Description: An overachieving
teen boasts about her
involvements and dreams.
Genre: Comedic

I guess you could say I’m driven. I

mean, I have goals and ambitions
and I know what it’s gonna take to
get where I wanna go in life. I
typically spend about two hours a
day here at the library after school,
then I either head to violin,
lacrosse, or karate. Oh, and I’m
really looking forward to spring
break. This year I’m going on a
mission trip to South America. I’ll
get to practice my Español.
Actually, I speak five languages,
but this mission trip will be great
because it will really set me apart
on my college applications.
Speaking of college, I am planning
to get a perfect 1600 on my SATs
which is why I’m studying right
now. No rest for the wicked.
Speaking of Wicked, I am playing
Glinda in our school version of the
Broadway musical this spring. This
really cute guy is the stage
manager and he asked me out this
Friday night. But I mean come on
people! I don’t have time for a
social life. I have dreams.

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

“Truth”
Third Place Winner!
By: Shirley Andoh, Age 16,
Pennsylvania USA
Description: Claudia moves
through emotions following an
accident that is her fault.
Genre: Dramatic

Claudia: (Yelling) I’m not going to

tell the police what happened
Jayla! Unlike you, I don’t want to
go to jail. I’ve been trying to stay
away from jail all my life and I’m
not going to go there over
something this dumb. You took
care of her didn’t you? So there’s
no need to tell the police anything.
Almost my entire family has been
in jail before and I want to be the
one to set an example for my
family’s next generation. (Breaks
down and begs) Please don’t turn
me in. I’m begging you Jayla.
Please don’t turn me in. (Beat. No
response from Jayla) You know
what, do whatever. I’m tired of you
acting all goody-two-shoes. I can’t
be like you, and I don’t want to be
like you anyway. But trust me, if
you say anything to the police, I
will never forgive you for that. It’s
not like I intentionally hit her. Yes, I
was driving but we were both
drunk. (Consider ending the
monologue here or continue
through the end with Claudia
taking responsibility.) I’m sorry
Jayla. I will tell the police
everything that happened. I know
the right thing and I have to do it.
Everyone has to face the
consequences of their actions and
I guess I have to face mine too, no
matter what it may be. I’m sorry I
gave you a hard time before.

“Life Can be Hard”

Fourth Place Winner!
By: Emma Lugo, Age 13, USA
Description: A spoken word piece
reflecting on the speaker’s mother
who lived in foster care.
Genre: Dramatic

Her life didn’t go as planned but no

one will ever understand
I wish I could have held her hand
and told her everything was going
to be ok
Because she always lived in pain
Yet she never complained
I saw that face she made
whenever she heard that name
Because she remembered that
day
And tried to hold in that pain
That felt like rain
And she tried to play the same
But she knew it wasn’t going away
Until she coped with the pain
and let the pain heal itself away
She is very inspiring to me
From what I see
Because everyone left her all
alone
With no place to go
No one knows what she’s been
through on the inside
Because she hides what she feels
Too afraid to reveal
People might judge her
But they don’t know her like I do
And what she’s been through
So don’t judge someone without
knowing them on the inside
And what they’ve been through

“A Word to the
Living”
First Place Winner!
By: Sophia Blakely, Age 17
From: Ontario, Canada
Description: A ghost of a soldier
attempts to dissuade living
soldiers from continuing to fight in
what he believes to be a losing
war.
Genre: Dramatic

[Austerely] Those men who still

have their living wits about them,
listen well to what I’m about to say.
The world is cruel. That fact is
without debate. [Scornfully] I have
witnessed first-hand how vile men
can act in times of war and tyranny
– all in hopes of their survival, and
possible glory. But that is strikingly
less noble. I was not unfamiliar
with traversing trenches – walking
back and forth as the pools of mud
tried to swallow me whole. I first
maneuvered that path when I was
younger than most of you are now.
Though I’m not young anymore.
Really, I’m not much of anything.
[Dejectedly] It was an unfortunate
thing to be my age in a war like
that. If you fought well, you were
guaranteed a spot in the next one.
We all learned that lesson too late.
[Dementedly] So, I’ll say this to
you. If it’s glory you seek, go
home. If it’s pride that’s keeping
you here, go home. And, if it’s a
life you want at the end of this, go
home. Had I known better, I would
have done the same. It bodes well
to be a coward at a time like this.
[Absently] Ah, but death is calling
me back. How sweetly she
beckons. Adieu. Adieu. Adieu…
[Trails off]
 “Death No More”
Second Place Winner!
By: Lauren Mohr, Age 14
From: Manitoba, Canada
Description: A soldier finds out
they have died in battle.
Genre: Dramatic

The last thing I remember is trying

to duck from the horrific sounds
coming from the other end of the
field. I felt pain and then…black
nothingness. I woke up in a
familiar place. I couldn’t remember
but then it came to me…I was
home. Finally, no more feelings of
fear and terror. No more death. No
more loss. No more depression. I
made my way out to the kitchen
and then I saw her. The beautiful
woman I was going to marry one
day standing there just in her
beauty alone. We are only sixteen,
so Mom thinks we’re too young,
but one day it’ll happen. I just
know. The feeling of excitement
came up inside of me and I ran to
her, to comfort her from feeling
alone. But then I realized that
tears were overflowing from her
eyes. She fell to the ground.
Sadness filled the room when I
saw it. The paper she was holding
with my name and the time of
death. William Jones 15/05/1942.

“Letters”
Third Place Winner!
By: Maddie Hazeu, Age 14
From: Manitoba, Canada
Description: A letter to a fallen
soldier from a wife.
Genre: Dramatic

My Love Charlie,
I miss you. I know you said to stay
strong and to take care of the
family for you, but it is hard. Not a
day goes by that I don’t think of
you. I hear the sound of marching
boots in my dreams, wondering if
you’ll ever come home. Every time
the doorbell rings, I’m scared to
answer for fear of bad news. Don’t
think I’m not proud of you love, our
country needs you. You trained
hard and worked harder, being
more than just a soldier to most.
Charlie, please do your best to
make it home and meet your son.
He has red hair, and brown eyes
just like his father. I hope this letter
(with pictures included) reaches
you in good time, and that you
may find joy and comfort within.
We miss and love you so much.
From your Love,
-Catherine and baby Jake.

“I’ll Miss You Too”

Honorary Mention
By: Alexandria Davidson, Age 16
From: Ontario, Canada
Description: This piece is based
on my real life experience as I
parted realms with my late father,
Jeffrey Alexander Davidson. It is
told from my creatively augmented
inner perspective. It is more of a
spoken word piece than a
monologue, so feel free to use
creative movement, music, or
multi-media in your performance.
Genre: Dramatic

“You’re stronger than I thought you

were.”

Oh, I don’t think I’m strong. You

though, you’ve been through so
much. Yet people question why
you continue to drink, and
staggeringly, if you’re okay.

“Stop asking if I’m okay.”

It makes you sad when someone

asks if you’re okay. Because they
know, and you know, you’re not. I
accidentally did ask you one time.
Your response still lingers in my
mind, your smile.

“I’m okay.”

You heard sniffles, under a poorly

masked smile. I was trying to be
strong for us.

“Lexi, are you crying?”

I was scared you weren’t going to

be okay.

On a separate occasion, you were

laying down, I was tickling your
hair.
I began to tear up, and you just
opened your eyes and smiled.

All I could see was your beautiful

blue eyes, and I was thankful I
have the same ones.

“He’s not going to make it to

tomorrow”

There’s no way. We’re gonna go

boating next summer. We talked
about it. We’re gonna go tubing, all
of us. He’s gonna be so excited to
play games for real again, I got
him an Xbox for Christmas, it’s in
two days. We’re gonna play a lot
of games again, like we used to.
I’m gonna be moving into his
apartment.

We’re
gonna
be
together.

“You got that from me, you got that

from me.”

A chin-dimple I was insecure about

when I was younger. I cried when
you teased me for it, but it feels
good to look in the mirror and see
you. To look at my eyes and see
your eyes. To drive the boat and to
make new memories. To build a
better future, with your name
everywhere I go.

We were together. Those

moments I’ll never forget, and
they’ll always be ours.

“Is That What You

See?”
First Place Winner!
By: Briana Rivera, Age 16, New
York, USA
Description: Anita, a character
from West Side Story is talking to
her brother Bernardo. (Inspired by
West Side Story but stands alone
as a monologue.)
Genre: Dramatic

Is that what you see? Is that really

how you feel? We have barely
been here for a year and you
wanna give up now? I can’t
believe it. We grew up with so little
money and you wanna go back? I
know you think Puerto Rico is
amazing, and it is, but we
struggled so hard to make a living
there. Sure, it was fun going to
beaches and being with friends
and having the time of our lives,
but we can’t go back. It’s time to
grow up and live a life we dreamed
about. I wanna work at this design
store and show people my talent,
and you wanna run away? No!
(angrily) We worked too damn
hard to give up now! I don’t care if
you don’t like it here, suck it up
and deal with it. This isn’t just for
us, it’s for our future. I regret
having to leave our family but
they’ll join us soon. You know that
we need to do this, not only for us
but for them too. Listen to me, we
have never, ever had an
opportunity like this before. We’ve
never been given a chance to
change how we live. Think about
our siblings who are growing up
how we did– is that what you want
for them? To get bullied and called
worthless– do you want that? I
would regret that for the rest of my
life if that ever happened. Stay.
Please, I need you. They need
you. We need you.

“Crumbling Beauty”
Second Place Winner!
By: Xavier Johnson, Age 17,
Pennsylvania, USA
Description: Jessica struggles
with depression and shares how
difficult it is to get through the day.
Genre: Dramatic

So, this is what I do when it seems

like the world is against me. When
everything feels like it’s crap and
my world shatters into numberless
little fragments: I take a steaming
hot shower, feeling each red-hot
drop like a needle piercing my
skin; the pain I feel is numbing.
But, through the numbness, I still
manage to find a way to cry. I
sleep for a few hours or even a
few days and eat all the junk food
in the fridge and pantry. I try to
laugh it off and tell myself that I’m
okay…and maybe cry a little bit
more. (Pause) When I look around
and realize that the world hasn’t
come to an end yet and the
buildings around me are still
standing and people are still living,
that’s what I realize what I have to
do: get out of bed, throw away the
crumbled junk food wrappers
along with the tear-soaked tissues,
and put on my best clothes and go
out and live.

“Mad Mockery”
By: Marina Paul, Age 16, Utah
USA
Description: Mother Nature goes
to therapy.
Genre: Comedic/Dramatic

Well. Here I am. Miss. Perfect,

Miss. Pristine, Miss. Loving, Miss.
Goddess, Miss. Ovaries for Days!
I… uh…I’m not sure exactly where
to start. It’s just that everywhere,
all around me, all I see is dead,
dead, dead, dead, dead, dead,
dead, dead, dead! I mean it
shouldn’t bother me, but it does
and everything’s dead and
everything’s hot and everything’s
warming, and no one cares about
Mother Nature. I keep this planet
growing with my own two hands.
But at this point is it even worth it?
These humans are walking all over
me like I’m their actual mother.
Sometimes I think THEY should
be the ones going to therapy, not
me. When I first started this job,
the grass was pristine. Crisp, cool,
green, soft, forgiving. What is it
now? Dry as a whistle. If I wanted
my grass to be used for a whistle, I
would have made it a whistle. You
know another thing? The sky used
to be blue. Yeah. B-L-U-E blue. I
miss those days. It used to be so
blue you could actually see the
clouds. Now it’s grey. I hate grey. I
don’t know. Maybe we should let
the greenhouse gas emissions just
wipe me out. Then see how they
like it. They asked for the purge
they’re gonna get the purge. Oh!
And you know what else really
gets my vines in a twist? Sea
levels. That’s not even on me, I
stay hydrated. Those guys down
there? Well, just between you and
me, they could use another
shower. Sorry folks, it’s not gonna
start raining men until that water
goes down. (Pause) Can I think of
anything good? Uh…well I like the
stars…that is when I can see
them. Maybe I just need glasses.
No that can’t be it. Sorry – what
was that? The session’s almost
over? Well, I guess there’s one
thing that I really do need to talk
about. Do you know how to
reverse climate change? I might
have gotten a little heated.

“Sister Parent”
By: Audrey Cherwinski, Age 16,
Pennsylvania, USA
Description: A teen expresses
anger at needing to share her
room with a baby sister but
decides to rise to the occasion
because her mom was never a
real mom.
Genre: Dramatic

You’re telling me I have to share

my room? This is outrageous. You
know we live in a two-bedroom
apartment, yet you still decided to
get pregnant. Thank you for being
so considerate, mom! I’m turning
thirteen next month which means
I’m basically a teenager. And what
do teenagers need? Oh yeah…
privacy! This just isn’t fair. None of
my other friends have to share a
room, and none of them have a
mother like you. You don’t care
about me, and you’re never there
when I need you. Where were you
when I needed help with my math
homework? Why weren’t you there
to make me dinner when I was too
young to use the stove? Oh yeah-I
remember now. You were too busy
running around with guys that only
stuck around for one reason and
one reason only. Which one of
them banged you up this time?
Was it Carl? John? Someone I
haven’t met yet?!? Is he going to
watch the baby, change their
diaper, feed them? No, he isn’t,
and neither are you. You and I
both know I’m going to be
responsible for this child I didn’t
even ask for. (Pauses to collect
herself and changes tactics.) But
you know what? I’m up for the
challenge. I WILL share my room,
but most importantly, I’ll give that
kid the childhood I never got to
have. As soon as I can get a job,
I’ll use the money from my
paychecks to spoil them with all
the coolest toys on the market. I’ll
make them feel loved. Make time
for them. Give them everything
you didn’t give me.

The Monster Under

My Bed
First Place Winner!
By: Sarah McCroan, Age 15,
Georgia, USA
Description: A young person
struggles with the ugliness of the
world.
Genre: Dramatic

When I was a kid, I used to be

afraid of the monster under my
bed. I’d toss and turn all night,
afraid that one day it would take
me! For years just the thought of it
gave me nightmares. But as I got
older, I let go of that fear…or so I
thought. When I started middle
school, I was bullied for my
“fascination” with insects. My dad
is an entomologist, so he got me
interested at a young age. This
“fascination” earned me the
nickname “Roach Girl” after I
caught a roach during class.
That’s when I realized that the
monsters aren’t under my bed,
they are all around me. And in
high school, the bullying got
worse. The monsters there would
attack you for the smallest thing
like staring too long, not giving
homework answers, or even just
saying no. I’m surprised most
people can’t see through their
hand-crafted disguises. Those
painted on faces, fake smiles, and
pretend emotions are all designed
to fool you into thinking they’re
good. You know, the kind of
monster that records a fight rather
than breaking it up? The ones that
have no shame hurting people. I
thought I could fight back to
expose them. I mean the world
would be better without them,
right? I tried to fight fire with fire,
but there are too many. So, I gave
up. For months I felt like a failure,
and I couldn’t sleep. Then one
night it happened again. I felt that
old urge to check under my bed. I
was horrified by what I saw- a
nearly perfect figure of myself, but
the image twisted. It was awful
looking and had teeth that could
bite someone in half. That’s when I
realized that monsters truly are
everywhere. They are all around
me because I was one too. I am
the monster under my bed.

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

Military Family
Second Place Winner!
By: Emily Newland, Age 17,
Georgia, USA
Description: A young person
ruminates about their military
family.
Genre: Dramatic

You shouldn’t be upset about not

getting what you want, especially
when what you want is so
materialistic. Be thankful for what
you have, for who you have. You
have two parents who love you,
who are always there. You have
the liberty of not worrying about
whether your mom will come
home. Or if your dad will come
home- as himself. I cherish the
moments I have with my family
because I know that at any time,
they can be taken away from me;
Off to fight some war and never
come back. Or even worse, when
they do come back, they’re a little
less themselves. Do you know
how it feels to know that the
people you love are suffering –
that internally they’re losing
themselves? Do you know how it
makes a little girl feel to see her
parents fade away? No. No, you
don’t. Stop being so selfish and
appreciate what you have. I would
do anything to get my family back.

Space Unicorns
Third Place Winner!
By: Jayla and Selene, Age 13,
New South Wales, Australia
Description: An astronaut gives a
rather enlightening talk about
space.
Genre: Comedic
(Astronaut enters, tripping and
staggering) Sorry, sorry, my legs
are still getting use to gravity.
Thank you for coming to my
seminar on “Gallivanting through
the Asteroid Cosmonaut
Magnitude of Outer Planets
through Orbit.” For the kiddies out
there… SPAAAACE! To get to
space, first I had to go seventeen-
thousand-five-hundred miles per
hour. Or FAAAAST! And it’s very
cold in space-brrrr! It’s minus two
hundred and seventy degrees
Celsius! Lucky my granny knitted
me a warm jumper! And let’s not
forget about the leg warmers! She
was like … (Turns dramatically to
the side, lowers glasses and
hunches over, shaking a finger,
mimicking granny.) “You young
whipper-snippers don’t know how
lucky you are! Back in the day, if
we wanted to go to space, we had
to build our own rocket ship. We
weren’t given one by NASA.”
(Straightens up again) A lot of
people think I went to space to
explore the planets, but I was just
trying to escape my old granny!
Next thing I know, I’m working for
NASA. Lucky, I liked the suit!
(Holding up a real rock, or
pantomimed rock.) Here’s a
memento I brought back from
space. You’ll know it’s from space
because it’s labelled “space rock”.
You bet that I’ll be selling this on
eBay for millions! But we don’t
want people putting googly eyes
on it and turning it into a pet rock,
so I think I’ll keep it. (Drops rock
on foot, hops around, clutching his
toes.) Shi-Schnitzel with gravy!
Schnitzel with gravy! Sorry, I keep
forgetting I’m on Earth, where
gravity exists. Since returning
home, I’ve dropped eggs, the
family dog… I’ve even dropped a
mic, not on purpose though.
Wasn’t even saying anything
clever … Anyway, why I’m here
today is no laughing matter. I’m
here because when I was in
space, I saw a massive group of
unicorns flying with swords in their
mouths. NASA says hallucinations
are simply a side effect of being in
space, like when astronauts report
seeing streaks of light that come
from nowhere. NASA says they
are just cosmic rays-tiny particles
launched by the explosions of
distant stars-But I say they are
UNICORNS! And because NASA
doesn’t believe me, or they think I
ate too many Mars bars and am
lacking oxygen, they’ve dismissed
it. BUT I’M TELLING YOU, I SAW
THEM! WITH THEIR MASSIVE
HORNS! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE
PEOPLE! THEY’RE COMING
FOR US! (Disorientated, lies on
the ground, trying to run away,
makes a dramatic exit.)

Sorry
First Place Winner!
By: Thato Sibuyi, Age 17,
Haenertsburg, South Africa
Description: Amy and her team
just lost a competition that had a
large amount of prize money. Amy
really needed that money.
Genre: Dramatic

SORRY? (Hysterical laughter)

Sorry? Really that’s all you have to
say? We just lost thousands of
dollars and you’re sorry? (Angry)
No. You don’t get to be sorry. You
don’t care, not enough to be sorry.
You did this competition for fun,
and the prize money was just the
cherry on top for you. I put my life
on the line for this! You go home to
a big house, with working lights
and food on the table. I’m going to
go home to a two-bedroom house
and pray to God we have enough
to pay for the electric bill. The bill
that I was supposed to pay for with
the money that I was supposed to
win from this competition. (Angrily)
And you want to know why we
lost, Jack? Because of you! You
and Lisa going at each other’s
necks the whole time! You couldn’t
set your pride aside for two hours?
TWO HOURS for the greater good
of everyone else, but no! That
didn’t work for you, did it? (Starts
crying) I did everything,
EVERYTHING in my power to win
this, and all my efforts were
wasted. You’re not sorry. Not for
losing this, you’re okay, you lost
nothing. You just feel bad because
some of us really cared, and that’s
not sorry, that’s pity. And I don’t
need that from you. So don’t tell
me you’re sorry, cause I’m not
buying it.

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

Watch another video

performance of this monologue
here!

Shrimp Fried Rice

Second Place Winner!
By: Jeremiah Reid, Age 16, North
Carolina, USA
Description: A person who takes
things a little too literally gets quite
upset when their date orders
shrimp fried rice.
Genre: Comedic

Woah, woah, woah! Hold on just a

minute here waiter. I wasn’t gonna
say anything before, because I’m
no marine biologist, but if she
(gestures across) is gonna order
that, I’m gonna have to speak up.
Now, when I saw it on the menu I
did some research, and I am fairly
certain there is no way that is
possible. I mean, shrimp? Frying
rice? The very concept is
preposterous! There are a million
issues I can think of! There is no
way shrimp could get their tiny
little hands on the frying pan, and I
don’t think they have the brain
capacity to know when rice is done
cooking. On top of that, there has
to be a health code violation here!
I mean, it says on the menu:
“warning: consumption of raw
meat or poultry may cause food
poisoning,” but it doesn’t say
anything about consumption of
food prepared by meat or poultry!
(Turns across) Look, I’m gonna be
honest. I was fully prepared to
propose to you tonight. I have the
ring and everything! But if you are
seriously going to give in to the
delusions of this restaurant and
order “shrimp fried rice,” I don’t
think I can anymore. In fact, I think
we should see other people.
This is false advertisement, and I
will not, no, CAN not stand for it!
Can you imagine walking into the
kitchen to see an army of little
crustaceans manning the grill? It’s
insane! It’s delusional! The only
explanation I can think of is a sort
of ratatouille situation, where
there’s a shrimp controlling the
human cooking the food, but if
that’s the case the shrimp certainly
shouldn’t be mentioned in the
name of the dish! I mean what’s
next, “manta ray steamed
vegetables?” Oh OK, now I’m
“causing a scene?” You know
what’s causing a scene? THE
FACT THAT YOU HAVE SHRIMP
PREPARING FOOD! I can’t take
this tomfoolery anymore; I’m
taking my business elsewhere!
Good day to you sir, but a terrible
day to whoever decided to claim
shrimp could cook! (Storms
offstage)

Who Do You Think

You Are?
Third Place Winner!
By: Kathryn McAllister, Age 12,
Minnesota, USA
Description: Olivia meets a girl
who might just take her place as
the dance captain, and she is not
happy about it.
Genre: Dramatic

Excuse me, yeah hi. I’m Olivia, the

dance captain. That was a pretty
good dance routine, but it’s
nowhere as good as the one I did
when I auditioned for the squad. I
know you think you can just waltz
in here and take my place, but I
got news for you, it’s not
happening. I mean who do you
think you are? Trying to take the
place I worked so hard to get. You
are a monster. And again, I say
WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?
I know who I am, I’m the queen of
this place and there is nothing you
can do to change that.

The True Feelings

of Godzilla
First Place Winner!
By: Jordan Onyia, Age 10,
Newfoundland, Canada
Description: Godzilla is looking
for a little understanding as he
apologizes for his actions.
Genre: Comedic

Guys, I know I knocked over a

couple of buildings, but if you were
my size, you would too. I’m not
such a bad guy if you really get to
know me. I don’t mean to alarm
you. I bet you’d scream too if you
stubbed your toe on a corner
store. Oh, and sorry about the hot
dog guy, he made me mad when
he got my order wrong. It gets
lonely being this big and living in
the ocean. That’s why I thought
the Statue of Liberty would make a
nice girl friend. Sorry I knocked her
over. It was an accident. By the
way, it is hard to turn with a tail this
long. Sometimes, stuff gets swept
away, you know. Tell City Hall that
I’m sorry their building is now a
boat. So give a monster a break
will ya?

My Mistake
Second Place Winner!
By: Ruby Whitehorn, Age 17,
Michigan, USA
Description: Nationally ranked
high school basketball player
struggles with making the decision
to confess using steroids for the
championship game.
Genre: Dramatic

Pops, my national ESPN ranking

dropped from #1 to the very
bottom of the list. Everyone thinks
I am a cheater. A fake. All my hard
work, just thrown away. What am I
supposed to do? Playing
basketball is my whole life, my
dream. Now it is all over because I
made one mistake. Because I
gave into peer pressure. Because
I gave into the stress I’ve had to
deal with. Because I doubted
myself and got tired. How do I fix
it, dad? What can I do to get back
to #1? Do I lie about it and deny it,
or do I come clean and tell the
truth? I guess there is no hiding
from it now. My coach knows, my
teammates know, my friends
know, social media knows, and
worst of all, my friends and family
know. Everyone knows I used
steroids before the championship.
I’ve let everyone down. I’ve
disappointed everyone. Maybe I
don’t deserve to be #1 again.
There’s only one way to make this
right. I’m going to issue an
apology, and I’m going to accept
whatever consequences come
along with it.

Mother of a Reader
Third Place Winner!
By: Jordan Dittamo, Age 12,
Virginia, USA
Description: A mother wants her
daughter to stop reading and help
out around the house.
Genre: Comedic

Jessie? Jessie! Come do the

dishes! You can’t? Why not?
You’re reading? Oh well. There
are worse things.
Jessie? Jessie! Help me with the
groceries! No? You’re at a good
part? Fine. Just this once.
Jessie? Jessie! Can you watch
your brother for a bit, while I go
out? You’re almost done? Ok. I’ll
hire a sitter.
Jessie? Jessie! Will you please
take out the trash? You’re busy?
Five minutes, that’s all.
Jessie? Jessie! Help me set up for
your sister’s party! Put down that
book! Right now! Oh, your favorite
character died? I’m sorry. I’ll let
you mourn. Don’t worry. Take all
the time you need.
Jessie? Jessie! Fold your laundry!
You’re at a boring part? Then why
can’t you help? Ohh. You have to
get through it, so you can read the
more exciting part? Ok…
Jessie? Jessie! We’re going to the
bookstore! Oh, so now you’re
available.

Brunch
First Place Winner!
By: Jack Lassman, Age 13, New
York, USA
Description: Sharon, a mother
from Savannah, Georgia, speaks
to her group of friends.
Genre: Comedic

Hello girls! How are we? Great!

Glad to hear it. Melissa, how are
your girls? Wonderful. Barb, how
is Dave? Sorry, I meant how is he
for you? Does he make you
happy? Does he make your kids
happy? Does he have a good job?
Because I have a list of perfect
matches for you if you ever need
to take a gander. No? Okay. Well
girls, today has already been the
craziest day of my life. After I woke
up and got the kids fed, I went to
get ready for today’s brunch. Well,
I walked into the bathroom to do
my lady things and after I came
out, I noticed something on my
blanket. Yes, the Versace one.
Naturally, I went to investigate and
saw a sight so horrific I might
never recover. What was it you
ask? It was a big, green frog! I
know! I grabbed the nearest object
and smashed that little stinker till
he was flatter than Flat Stanley
himself. Now hold on, why are you
girls suddenly so angry? I
shouldn’t have smashed it? Well I
didn’t enjoy smashing it. I mean,
the frog was asking for it. If you lay
one of your webbed fingers on my
Versace blanket, you better
prepare to be smashed with my
stilettos. Of course I love animals.
Just not on my stuff. The
relationship I have with animals is
the same as the one with my dear
husband. I love you, just keep your
distance and we won’t have any
altercations. I’m not going to put
the frog in a cup. Those cups are
worth 50 dollars each and Rob
worked very hard so I could afford
them. I can’t have Kayley-Anne
drinking out of a frog-infested cup.
She’d die. I read that on
Facebook. Well girls, I cannot
believe y’all have turned on me
like this. You are looking at me like
I’m some murderer. The beast
came into my home and ruined my
stuff. I’m not to give it some food
and water, and send it off with a
coupon for a free spa-day. Barbara
if you found a spider in your
daughter’s room you would not
hesitate to smash that creeper.
Melissa, if you found a mouse in
your home you would set up a
mousetrap for sure. So why am I
such a monster for smashing a
frog that entered my home and
crawled on my belongings. On that
note, I brought some champagne
so we could make mimosas, but I
forgot to bring orange juice. Silly
old me. I did remember to bring
the glasses though so drink up
because whatever we don’t drink,
Robert will.

They/Them
Third Place Winner!
By: Janisha Pyakurel, Age 13,
Texas USA
Description: A child shares their
gender identity with a parent.
Genre: Dramatic
It’s not a bad thing Mom! Just
listen. Ever since I was a kid the
way people referred to me always
sounded odd. “She’s getting
water” Or “It’s her turn” never sat
right with me. My feminine name
made me want to throw up,
“Samantha.” But I didn’t want to be
a boy. “He’s getting water” or “It’s
his turn,” that was definitely not
right either. I thought I was weird
not feeling like either a boy or a
girl. Then I found out there is
actually a name for what I am.
Non-binary. It describes people
like me who don’t identify as either
a boy or a girl. Not she or he, but
they. That feels right to me. I want
to use the gender-neutral name,
Sam. And I have thought about
this for a long time Mom, so I hope
you can be accepting. I know that
you think of me as your cute baby
girl with her pretty dress and
crown hoping to one day marry a
prince. But it’s just not going to
happen that way. All I am asking is
that you try to be a little more
supportive.

Miss Fortune
First Place Winner!
By: Marina Paul, Age 15, Utah
USA
Description: After aspiring for it
her whole life, Missy Lewis has
just won the title of “Miss Fortune.”
She is now being questioned
about the mysterious injuries to
the other contestants.
Genre: Comedic

All right, let’s get one thing straight

Mr. Brown. I wouldn’t just go
around murdering my competition
like I was on a hunt for Black
Friday bargains and clearance bin
steals? Who would enter such a
competition and then murder
someone just ensure their victory?
As this sash was laid upon me I
swore to uphold the standards of
“Miss Fortune”. I took a vow of
charity, kindness and beauty. If
you ask any of the girls they would
tell you of my beauty, my kindness
and my charity. Yes, I understand
all the girls are in shock, or
admitted to the hospital because
the…but you can imagine that’s
how they would all respond. When
I became Miss Fortune I promised
myself that I would always look at
each contestant through the eyes
of a girl who’s desperate shyness
hides her opulent confidence to
take control and get what she
wants. I mean Mr. Brown, how
could someone as innocent and
beautiful as me grab a green knife
handle and…Oh, I could never
stoop to that level of foul play Mr.
Brown. Miss Fortune is not a title
that I take lightly. If I have to
answer that then I’ll take my sash,
and my baton and I’ll leave. Oh
right, I can’t. Miss Fortune would
never strike at a time when
another contestant was
supposedly answering a question
about what they would supposedly
do if they won the supposed title…
and the entire audience was in
tears about her heartwarming
answer. Where was I? Well, I just
happened to be in the booth
cheering on my sister contestants.
You see, if I was in the light booth,
then there was no way I could
have run down the stairs until I
reached the stage and found the
knife stashed in a lock box by the
rigging system roughly 25 feet
away from Alice. And there is
certainly no way that I could have
used the knife as she completed
her double turn leading her
offstage directly into a vegetable
patterned cutting knife. I was in
heels after all. Can I have my
heels back now, Mr. Brown? I
realize they’re a little stained but
isn’t that just the sort of thing that
happens as you use them? How
dare you make such an accusation
about an impressionable high
school junior Mr. Brown! I’ve
worked to the bone for this school,
and this title, and I’ll work to clear
my name until the blood of all past
and present Miss Fortunes runs in
the street and stains my heels…
you believe me don’t you?

Book Cleanse
Second Place Winner!
By: Avani Ingole, Age 14, New
Jersey USA
Description: A book nerd decides
it’s time to take a break from
reading about heroes and
heroines and start having some
adventures of her own.
Genre: Comedic
I never noticed how much space
books take up–in my head and in
my actual room. I mean, it’s kind of
sad. I didn’t think I relied on
fictional characters this much, but
here I am sitting on the floor in an
empty apartment. My mom always
used to say,
“Lizzie you need to make friends,
Lizzie you can’t sit inside and read
all day.”
Why not? Why deal with the
drama of friend groups when you
can enjoy a good mystery? I mean
yeah I do have friends but ever
since I was a kid books were my
go to. Some kids read to escape,
others read for fun. Me? I read
because of the people I could
be.Now that I think about it, I’ve
never actually had an original
thought. Everything has been
taken from a book I read. Not that
it’s a bad thing. Who doesn’t want
to be like Elizabeth Bennet? But
now that I’m going to be in college,
and I’m no longer the only kid in
3rd grade who’s read Pride and
Prejudice. Someone is bound to
realize that Lizzie and Eliza aren’t
clever nicknames that my family
made for me, but names I forced
them to call me so that I could be
just like my favorite character. It’s
hard to have your own unique
personality when you spend the
majority of your day reading
books. Especially when the
characters are so interesting that
want to be them. So I’ve decided
to go on a book cleanse. I have
three months to create a new me
for college. Obviously it’s not going
well, but at least I’m trying right? I
actually socialized with people
without bringing up books, and
now I’m going to buy paintings for
my wall! They won’t look as good
as the color-coded bookshelves I
used to have, but that’s beside the
point. The point is that I am no
longer the “book nerd” who
dreams of being in every book
they read, cries about fictional
characters, only wants to do
something because the strong
female character did. I am a social
butterfly who has their own original
personality and doesn’t rely on
books for happiness.

Zoom, Zoomy,
Zoom
Third Place Winner!
By: Jade Preeya-Werba, Age 13,
Islamabad Pakistan
Description: A teacher struggles
to teach her class virtually
Genre: Comedic

All right. Good morning, class.

Welcome back to another day of
online school. Hope you are all
doing well. Let’s get started. Wait,
before we start, um, Jason, can
you please turn on your camera?
It’s required to have it on. EARTH
TO JASON. Please turn your
camera on. JASON. *sigh* Okay,
then. Oh, Felicia, can you please
adjust your screen so we can see
you and not your forehead? Oh-
dear, that’s too much. Can you
adjust it so we can’t just see your
mouth? We want to see your
whole face. Maybe move your
screen back a little? It’s fine. We’ll
figure it out later. All right, class.
Seems like we can finally get
started. Earl, son? You’re un-
muted. Why are you watching
Youtube? It’s not even the most
boring part of my class yet! Ugh,
Mia, please would you get out of
bed? We are literally in class right
now. You can’t be sleeping in
class! Get out of bed and find a
desk already! Sean? What is that?
You can’t hear me? Oh. Uhhh,
have you tried reloading the zoom
page? You can’t reload zoom? Oh.
How about you try to leave and
rejoin? Okay? Oh no. Geena, it
looks like your frozen. Are you
frozen? You’re frozen. AHH,
MUTE YOUR MIC DEAR. MY
EARS. PLEASE. TURN. OFF.
YOUR. MICROPHONE. Thank
you. Moving on- oh, what a
pleasant surprise! Everyone, look
here! My cat, Peanut has decided
to join our lesson- OH DON’T YOU
THINK ABOUT IT. GET OFF MY
COMPUTER. GET. OFF. NOW.
*hurling motion with hands* Sorry
about that. Guys, I realize we have
been doing this for months now,
but we only gotta hang in for a little
longer. And yes, it’s been hard,
and extraordinarily frustrating, but I
believe that we can do it, so let’s
go to it. Only a little longer guys.
We’ll be in school soon enough.
Come on…And I disconnected
from the lesson. In the middle of
my inspirational speech. Okay, I
will not cry. I will not cry.

Glasses
Honorable Mention!
By: Jackie Huang, Age 15, New
York USA
Description: Sometimes we
would rather erase ourselves than
face the reflection in the mirror.
This monologue focuses on body
image and self esteem.
Genre: Dramatic

I have terrible vision. I’ve always

had a terrible vision. When I was
7, my mother took me to the
optometrist, where they had little
reading charts with E’s plastered
all over. (Sweetly) “Point to the
right direction” she would say. How
would I know? I was 7. I could
barely tell my left from right.
(Lowers voice to a loud whisper)
Those E’s were like tiny claws that
touched me, scratched me. I could
tell my mother was disappointed.
But I needed glasses. (Picks up
prop glasses) My first pair was
rectangular and brown. I liked
them at first… until I looked
through the lenses and realized
they made my thighs look like
swollen sausages, the kind they
only sell in bulk at Costco. I didn’t
like the way I looked through my
glasses. I could only focus on the
skin on my belly rolling into layers
one on top of the other, like a thick
and heavy blanket that draped
down to my ankles. I guess that’s
why long dresses don’t like me –
because I already have my own. I
refuse to wear my glasses, even
though it makes my mom mad,
and I probably need them.
(Saddened) I refuse because it’s
nice that you only see blurs of
everything. (Pause) I refuse
because I can’t make out what
new places the eyes of others are
staring at. (Pause) I refuse
because I would rather the
reflection in my mirror remain a
blur.

Monologue
Honorable Mention!
By: Caroline Seawell, Age 15,
South Carolina USA
Description: A frustrated theater
student brainstorms ideas for a
monologue they must write.
Genre: Comedic

C’mon brain, THINK! This

monologue is due tomorrow and I
have nothing! Not a single word!
This sucks, I am going to fail my
theater class all because I can’t
come up with one stupid
paragraph. Perhaps some cookie
dough ice cream could help me
think? No! I can’t eat yet! I have to
stay focused! Maybe I should
make it about love or something.
Teachers like to read stuff like that,
right? Or I could write about a kid
with a scar who gets a letter from
a foreign school and finds out he’s
a wizard and, wait, nope that’s
Harry Potter. Ooh, maybe I could
write about a character who can’t
come up with a monologue and
they are trying to brainstorm ideas
on what to write about. No, that is
way too meta. Ugh. I am making
this way harder than it has to be
but I really can’t fail, I just can’t! If I
fail this, then I have a B on my
report card, then I’ll lose
motivation and then that B will turn
into an F and then boom! I’m
failing all of my classes and I drop
out of school to become a sign
spinner outside of KFC. Not to
mention that my mom would kill
me. I wouldn’t blame her either. If I
was a single mom working two
jobs just to provide for a kid who
failed all of their classes I would be
mad too. She really is the best.
She’s always supported my love of
theater and to be honest I wouldn’t
be where I am without her. She’s
my hero. Wait a minute, that’s it! I
should write a monologue about
my mom and how hard she works
every day! This is going to be so
good. I think all of this
brainstorming has earned me a
visit with some of my good friends:
Ben and Jerry.

Forgive, Forget, and

Fiddlesticks
Honorable Mention!
By: Isabella Besly, Age 13, Texas
USA
Description: The protagonist is
mad at their best friend and tries to
give them the silent treatment.
Genre: Comedic

I’m not talking to her. She knows

what she did. (beat) No, I don’t
think I’m overreacting. I’m not!
(turns to someone who’s not there)
You know what you did! (turns
back around) Snickerdoodles. I’m
not supposed to be talking to her.
I’m giving her the silent treatment,
if that’s not clear. She deserves it.
She knows what she did. (turns to
back and looks really annoyed,
then yells) I’m not talking to you!
(turns back around) Dolly Parton. I
just talked to her. I’m really bad at
this “ignoring your best friend
because she stabbed you in the
back, showing you the cold,
merciless person she really is after
thinking you knew her since
kindergarten”, aren’t I? Well, live
and learn. (pauses like someone’s
talking to her, gets really mad then
turns to where the invisible “friend”
is) I will not forgive and forget!
(turns around and sighs)
Fiddlesticks. I talked to her. Again.
Ugh. I think she’s trying to get me
to snap at her so she can talk to
me. But she doesn’t even deserve
my yelling. Traitors don’t deserve
anything. (beat) I’m going to ignore
her. Really ignore her. I’m not
going to talk to her nor
acknowledge her existence. She’s
dead to me. (turns to the friend)
You’re dead to me!
(exasperatedly) Tea and crumpets!
(exhales) Starting now. She’s dead
to me starting now. Ugh, why do
you think I’m overreacting? I’m
not. Do you really want to know
what that cockroach did? Fine
she- (turns around and starts to
talk to the “friend” but stops
themselves and turns back
around) Did you see that? I totally
ignored her. Well, maybe I turned
to her, but I didn’t say anything.
Nothing! Rainbows and unicorns,
that felt good! (beat and gets sad)
But, now it doesn’t. (turns to where
the “friend” is) Shish Kabobs. I
really messed this up, didn’t I? I
just threw away a friendship after
one mistake. I mean, it was a big
mistake, huge. Like Godzilla
couldn’t even—okay not the time.
(sighs) I don’t know if I can ever
forget what she did. But I can try to
forgive, can’t I?

Felony? I Think
Not!
First Place Winner!
By: Evelin Rienzo, Age 13, Florida
USA
Description: A teen explains why
they are a thief.
Genre: Comedic

Hello Officer (Holds up wallet and

reads name. Takes time to
pronounce correctly) Tu-ff-in.
Wow, no wonder you’re a school
cop and not in the big leagues. I
mean, with a last name like that
you would be laughed out the
door. (Imitates in a deep voice) “I
am Officer Tuffin, you are under
arrest. Anything that you say can
and will be used against you.”
(Goes back to normal voice) I
mean honestly! You’re not tough at
all! I bet I could beat you in a race.
You want your wallet back? Well,
here you go. (Tosses back wallet.)
Oh and you might want to change
your driver’s license picture, your
hair is almost as bad as your last
name. Whoa there, this isn’t about
me this is about your horrendous
drivers license photo. Whatcha got
there? Oh crap I have a file?! I
thought only bad kids had those.
What I do is an art not a felony. It’s
not my fault the principal left her
purse on her desk… granted the
door was locked. But that didn’t
stop me! She didn’t even notice
until I was in math. It was kinda
embarrassing, (Imitates speaker
voice) “Jackie McCartney please
come to the front office.” We were
in the middle of a math test!
Anyway, I can’t control it. It’s like…
how would I explain this to a
simpleton? Okay… What do you
want most in the world? Other
than to change your name. For me
it’s like something I want is sitting
on a golden platter but I can’t
touch it. Only the urge is like 10
times stronger and sometimes if I
don’t steal the watch, wallet, ring,
or whatever then I feel really
nauseous and I vomit. Almost
every kleptomaniac lives by the
four W’s, it’s kind of our motto. We
want wallets ‘n watches.
Whenever I tell someone they look
at me like I’m an idiot and should
be behind bars. But honestly,
that’s never going to happen, I
could steal your belt buckle before
you had time to put me in
handcuffs. Anyways, what’s in my
file? Eww! Is that my school
picture? Officer Tuffin! Can I
change it? The only reason I’m
asking politely is because you
have a taser… I mean I could
have taken that along with your
badge, keys, wallet, and rolex
watch. (Kid has taken all those
things.) Oh you didn’t notice that
did you? Now, behave Officer, I
don’t think the security cameras
would appreciate a cop lunging at
a student. Now just take your
hands off the gun and put them on
the table where I can see them or
the watch gets it. (Speaks like
talking to a dog) Good boy. Hey
did I ever tell you that you remind
me of my dog? Except my dog is
loyal. Whoa you even growl like
my dog! Sooo I’m going to go…
unless you want to lecture me
about something else? No? Okay,
bye! Oh before I go, I think I’m
gonna take this pretty little Rolex.
(Can say in an annoying sing-song
fashion) Goodbye Officer Tuffin.

It’s All Because of

Me
Second Place Winner!
By: Lorna McGregor, Age 12,
Colorado USA
Description: A god explains why
humans are greedy.
Genre: Comedic

If you had listened during history

class, instead of dozing off or
chatting with your friends online,
you’d probably know how royalty
in Ancient Mesopotamia and
Ancient Egypt considered
themselves close to the gods.
Well, I’m a prince and-believe it or
not- a true god. My sister is a god
too. We’re only minor deities
though so we aren’t that important
but we still have to go to all the
meetings. Like the meeting when
humans were created. Well not
you guys but your ancestors. The
big guy had us come in just so we
could talk about making “a
creature of power that can eat
anything.” Now I’m not a god who
would say, “Oh My Gosh! We
should totally do that!” Definitely
not! I can’t even believe I just
acted that out… Anyway, I’m the
minor deity of lies and trickery. So
I said, “Sure, why not.” You see,
whenever a new species is
created, all of its traits are put in a
big pot and left to mix. When
humans were created, I snuck
some things of my own into that
pot. What things you may ask?
Well, have you heard of the Seven
Deadly Sins? I created them. My
personal favorite is greed. I just
love watching humans scramble
for power and kill each other in the
process. It makes me feel proud.
But in the end I was punished for
it. I was sent here to the mortal
plain to live until I’m six hundred
and sixty-six. Until then, I’ll just sit
back and enjoy the show.
 I Don’t Like
Chocolate
Third Place Winner!
By: Henry Boudolf, Age 12, South
Carolina USA
Description: When you think you
don’t like chocolate, but then you
try it.
Genre: Comedic

I don’t like chocolate. There, I said

it. I don’t like chocolate and there
is nothing you can do to make me
think otherwise. What good is
chocolate anyway? It only comes
in like two flavors! You also can’t
keep it in your pocket. It’ll just
melt! That gooey melted-ness
along with the color is just… And
in case you’re wondering why I
would need to put chocolate in my
pocket, it would obviously be so I
could eat it at school! And I am no
barbarian. I follow the rules of
being a kid and remember to eat
my candy BEFORE my food. And
another thing, chocolate is
poisonous to dogs! I have three
dogs, so if I accidentally left
chocolate just laying around then
my dogs might EAT IT. (React to
thought of what could happen to
dogs.) Have I tried it, you ask? No,
I have not. I have not, and will not,
ever try chocolate. Not even if you
pay me five bucks to do it. Or ten.
Maybe fifteen. Fine, I will eat this
chocolate bar for 20 bucks. (Eats
the chocolate) That… WAS THE
GREATEST THING EVER! Give
me more please!

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

The Pompeii Project

Honorable Mention!
By: Alayna Hall, Age 11, South
Carolina USA
Description: A unique take on the
story of Pompeii.
Genre: Comedic

I know all about Pompeii. Not from

history class. I was talking to my
friends through most of that. But
from that cool water ride at Busch
Gardens. It’s so fun! When Mrs.
Jones assigned us a group project
we had to level up on creativity.
Especially since we hadn’t paid
attention. You should have seen
us trying to brainstorm! It almost
looked like our brains were going
to explode out of our heads! We all
had so many weird ideas, but mine
was the overall greatest. I knew
that Pompeii was an ancient
Roman city, and somehow a
volcanic eruption turned the place
into ashes. So we decided to
make a model that showed what it
looked like during the eruption. We
just started smashing stuff
together. Our hands were so sticky
from all that glue that when we
touched anything, it became one
with our hands! It was a disaster,
but so was Pompeii. When we
finished the project we were
exhausted. But it was all worth it!
We walked into the room carrying
our masterpiece hidden by a cloth.
Everyone looked at us like we
were crazy. Because it was my
idea, I did the honors. I took one
deep breath and then pulled off
the cloth. Everyone laughed. Mrs.
Jones just glared at me. I read the
label on the front of it aloud. It
said… Busch Gardens Pompeii.

Stupid Cupid
First Place Winner!
By: Catherine Young, Age 12,
Texas USA
Description: A teenage girl
explains why she hates Valentine’s
Day while grocery shopping.
Genre: Comedic

Valentine’s Day is the most stupid

holiday that has ever existed if you
ask me. It’s just all of these big-
money corporate companies
profiting off of naive romantics by
selling aphrodisiacs, like
chocolates. (Picks up a heart
shaped box of chocolates.) You
know what chocolate’s made of?
Cacao. Now, cacao looks delicious
from the outside, but boy, is it
disgusting. It’s grainy, bitter – just
like the L word itself. (Puts aside
the box of chocolates and
continues on down the aisles.)
Riddle me this – why should an
innocent teenager be bombarded
with all of this, this pink, red,
artificial, sugary sweetness when
just going to the store to pick up
some Doritos? All I really want
today is to grab these chips, head
to my room, and drown out the
yelling from my parent’s room with
the screams from Chainsaw
Massacre #2, because believe it or
not, that movie is slightly less
terrifying than what’s going on
outside my bedroom door.
(Accidentally steps on a teddy
bear with a tag that says, “I Love
You.”) And the worst part –
everything, everything, everything,
everywhere you look, has the L
word on it. You know, the L word?
(Whispers.) Love? Why should I
have to see that word, over and
over again? Every time I look at it,
it feels like a punch straight to my
gut. And being in a grocery store
the day before Valentines, that L
word isn’t exactly scarce. Why do I
have to suffer through this? Why
do I have to be ambushed by this
word at a drugstore when it’s a
word that my parents don’t even
say to each other anymore?
(Pauses, reigning in her emotion,
and scowls at the bear.) Who
would even buy such a stupid
thing? ‘I love you beary much?’
Disgusting. (She reaches to put
the bear on the shelf, but is
interrupted by a phone call. She is
now speaking into the phone.)
Hello? Oh, yeah, hey Charlie.
Charlie from science, right?
(Pauses.) Oh, no, I don’t have any
plans tomorrow. Why? Yeah, I
know tomorrow’s Valentine’s day .
. . ok, um, sure. I’ll meet you at the
movie theatre at 7. Who else is go
– oh, it’s just gonna be us?
(Begins to smile.) That sounds
great. See ya then! (She smiles
and hangs up the phone.) I mean .
. . Valentine’s Day is still stupid.

Mrs. Wright is
Wrong
Second Place Winner!
By: Jadyn Jones, Age 11, Texas,
USA
Description: A teen explains to
the director, Mrs. Wright, why she
should be cast in the school
musical.
Genre: Dramatic

(Melody, furious, walks up to Mrs.

Wright to talk about the winter
musical audition.)
Mrs. Wright, the selection for the
school musical is downright dumb!
Faith shouldn’t get the lead
because she did nothing special
for her audition when I worked my
butt off. Somebody who actually
attempted should get the part. I
learned how to speak in a British
accent for my audition and sang in
one too! If not me, at least Violet
Little, (Calming down a bit) even
though her accent was more on
the Australian side, but maybe
that’s because she is Australian, I
don’t really remember. (Is furious
again) But that doesn’t matter, and
frankly, I don’t care! What matters
is that we can’t let Faith make this
musical flop like the last one. Let
me show you how she should
have done the audition. (Starts
speaking in a British accent.)
“Hello, may I help you on this
fantastic night? If I may, I
recommend you get the beef
wellington! It brings me back to
when I lived in London, I suppose
you can relate, can’t you mate?”
And… scene! I hope you realize
that Faith brings nothing to the
table when it comes to a musical.
She takes the act out of actress.
Maybe she could possibly be a
playwright, I’ve seen her in English
class, that girl can write two pages
of a five-page essay in under an
hour. But don’t let her be an
actress in a musical or play,
especially the lead! Opening night
would be a flop, and we both know
that would be embarrassing for
you.

My Past
Third Place Winner!
By: Leah Garcia, Age 13,
Maryland, USA
Description: A teen recounts the
night her father left to her
therapist.
Genre: Comedic

This was my mom’s idea. I’m

really fine. It’s kind of weird to tell
a stranger my life story and pour
out my feelings. But I guess that’s
your job, right? To listen? Well,
you might want to get some more
coffee. I guess it happened when I
was around three or four. I know it
was November because
Thanksgiving was close. I got up
in the middle of the night and
noticed my father was packing his
bag. I thought he was just going to
visit friends or maybe my
grandma. I remember being
hungry and asked him if he would
get me something to eat. He gave
me some yogurt. I went to get a
spoon, but before I knew it, the
door slammed, and he was gone. I
guess that is why my mom thinks I
need therapy; to help me get over
the pain. I don’t feel any pain
about that. She’s always told me it
isn’t my fault that my dad left. I
mean come on… that happened
when I was three. I’m now thirteen.
I’m fine. I mean, I’ve gone most of
my life knowing my father left and
it’s all my fault…(starts crying)
yeah my mom thinks I need
someone to talk to, but I say I can
just power through. I can handle it
on my own. (pause) Okay, this
isn’t going to go that way, is it?

Harold’s May
By: Sofia Greenwalt, Age 14,
Florida, USA
Description: A widower talks to
his deceased wife about making a
new friend.
Genre: Dramatic

(Harold could be talking to a photo

of his wife, or kneeling and placing
flowers on her grave.)

It’s been six months since you left

me, but it feels like an eternity. I
sure miss seeing you every day.
My sweet May. Sometimes I
wonder if it’s just a nightmare that I
can’t wake up from. You were the
light of my life, the reason I would
wake up in the morning. But now
there are days where I feel that
there is no light, and the darkness
just fills up my thoughts.
Sometimes, I simply feel there is
no reason to wake up in the
morning. I feel betrayed because
you were taken from me too soon
and I’m just another person
consumed by grief. But today I
saw a flicker of hope. I met
someone. His name is James. He
is my first real friend since I lost
you May. You were all I needed,
and now I’m so alone. I met James
in a grief support group. He is also
grieving; His grandson Timothy
died. We plan to meet in the park
every Wednesday and Friday. We
came to the conclusion that we
both need some light in our life, so
we decided to be a light for each
other.

Our Kind
By: Jannet Almanza, Age 12,
Texas, USA
Description: Elio calls out his
teacher for her bias in the
classroom.
Genre: Dramatic

(Elio gets up angrily from his desk

and speaks to the teacher.)

Excuse me? You can’t get mad at

her for not speaking English well.
You told her to read in front of the
class…and you’re the English
teacher. You’re supposed to help
her. How can you be angry with
her right now?… And “Our kind”
what is that supposed to mean?!
“Our kind.” We’re not aliens or
animals! Don’t talk to us like we
are! Just because she can’t speak
your language yet, doesn’t mean
she’s any less than you. How
about you try learning Spanish and
moving to a Spanish speaking
school. Would you be able to read
perfectly, especially in front of an
entire class? I didn’t think so. Just
because we’re different colors and
we speak different languages,
doesn’t mean either of us is better
than the other. “Our kind” isn’t any
different from “your kind”. You are
constantly picking on her like she’s
some puppy that needs to be
trained. How do you expect her to
speak perfect English when no
one is helping her? You have no
idea how hard it is for “our kind”!”

Why Can’t They See

Me?
By: Alyvia Taylor, Age 12, Florida,
USA
Description: An African American
woman expresses her frustration
and anger about the injustice she
has experienced due to prejudice
and racism.
Genre: Dramatic

Woman: (Starts to cry a little bit) I

just don’t get it. Why can’t they see
me? Why can’t they see me for
who I am and not what I look like.
Why can’t I go into stores without
being stalked as if I was going to
steal something? My skin color, for
some strange reason, is a threat to
you? I mean you shoot us down to
get rid of us because you are
scared of what you don’t know.
You want us to not speak out on
what it is you are doing to us
because you want us to be the
bad guys. Well guess what, I am
tired of it and I’ve had enough!
(clenches fist and then calms
herself down)I mean, why can’t
you see me? Why can’t you see
that I am a good person and
wouldn’t harm anyone? Why is it
that you don’t even ask me my
name? You just assume I am
dangerous? Not to be trusted!
Why can’t you see me? I am sick
and tired of the system, too. I
mean some-(starts to tear up) my
daughter was taken away from me
and they did nothing to find her.
But if some white man’s store gets
robbed, they will do everything
they can to help. Why can’t they
do the same for us? Well, if you
can’t see me now, you will see me
rise and protest against the
injustices of the people! As Maya
Angelou says, “You may write me
down in history with your bitter
twisted lines. You may trod me in
the very dirt but still I rise.” And we
will speak out on what is being
done to us and we will make
change. You will see me and know
my name!”

Jailhouse Wolf
First Place Winner!
By: Konrad Poniatowski, Age 12,
Pennsylvania USA
Description: The Wolf from the
Three Little Pigs complains to his
cellmate in jail.
Genre: Comedic

What am I in for? You’ve got to be

kidding me. You don’t watch TV?
You heard about the Pigs, right?
Well, what they’re saying about
me is fake news. The name’s Wolf,
Trevor Wolf. Lemme tell you the
truth about this whole “Three Little
Pigs” thing. So, I walk up to the
first little porker’s house to
welcome him to the neighborhood.
It’s not my fault that I breathe and
the blasted straw hut falls over. It
was made out of gosh darn hay!
How does it NOT fall over? Fine.
Go to jail. Get the T-shirt. Next
Grunter’s house. This one is made
of wood, but those sure ain’t 2x4s
I’m looking at. Whoosh! Crash!
Clang! The result, more time. I
mean, those houses weren’t even
up to building code, how am I the
one being sent to jail here? (Beat)
What? No! I never threatened to
eat them. We never spoke any
words to each other ‘til the trial!
Anyway, the third swine’s house
looked at least legal, until I knock
on the door and a dragon pops
out! That sure ain’t legal. As I was
running away I knocked over a
flowerpot…and I may have
climbed onto the roof. But that’s
only ‘cause of that dragon inside
breathing fire everywhere! Don’t
even get me started with the trial. I
never “assaulted” or “harassed”
anyone at any time. If anything,
this dragon assaulted and
harassed me! And the jury! That
jury was supposed to be impartial?
If they were impartial, I’ll eat my
tail! I mean come on, 15 years in
the can? Just for trying to say
hello? No wait. I guess it was 17. I
got 2 years just for stepping on
that flowerpot. Anyway, that’s my
story. What’re you in for? (Beat)
Oh…you’re that guy. You didn’t eat
the granny either? You know, that
Little Red Riding Hood looked like
a liar to me. We’re all innocent, I
tell ya.

Quarantine Diary
Second Place Winner!
By: Christopher Parker, Age 13,
South Carolina USA
Description: A teen explains the
craziness of quarantine to a friend
online.
Genre: Comedic
I was just thinking about the first
day of quarantine. I thought it was
kind of like a drill, you know, like it
would only last 1 or 2 days, and it
would be over. Well this is NOT a
drill. I’ve also discovered the
stages to complete craziness. I’ve
been craving just to get outside,
play, or just get out and do
something…ANYTHING. I mean,
who wants to sit inside and do
nothing, am I right? So, the stages
go like this: Sit and stare at the
wall, eat and get bigger, and binge
watch my favorite shows on
Netflix. I started to binge video
games, which is when I discovered
that the pandemic is kind of like a
game of Among Us, right?
Covid/19 is the imposter, and the
spaceship is the quarantined area.
This pandemic is crazy! Man…I
just can’t wait to hang out in real
life again. Waiting for this to end is
like watching a pecan tree grow.
You could call my life with your
phone and it would say something
like, “you’re on hold.” Is it just me,
or do you feel this way too?

The Casket
By: Ellyse Blackburn, Age 13,
Michigan, USA
Description: A casket finally finds
a purpose.
Genre: Dramatic

We’ve finally met. I can hardly

believe it. Everything makes sense
now. (pause) We are going to be
together for a long time, so you
should know a little about my life
and how it is we are together. You
see, I lived in the saddest room on
earth. On a daily basis, I would
see people having nervous
breakdowns. Everyone who came
through the door was sad…
grieving, crying uncontrollably. I
could never figure out the reason
for it. The others who were there
with me couldn’t figure it out either.
We were all so beautiful, but we
made people sad. Oh, they always
left with one of us…but never me.
They would run their hands over
my rich, smooth mahogany
surface, but no one bothered to
actually open me up. Once, this
nice young lady looked at me and I
felt a connection with her, but as
always, she didn’t choose me. I
started thinking that I would never
get chosen, that I would be stuck
here collecting dust in this sad
room for the rest of eternity. Oh,
how awful that would’ve been –
never fulfilling my true purpose.
And then it happened! I saw her
walk into the showroom, just as
sad as the rest. I saw her hand the
salesman a small piece of paper
with no words. And then she saw
me. Truly saw me. As she walked
towards me her tears began to
fade. Placing her aged hands on
my shell and lifting, she looked
inside and saw my true beauty. All
those times before it was never
me, but finally it was me. My
sorrow disappeared, I was going
to have a true purpose, and we
both found comfort in that. After
that meeting, she left and I was
moved to a different section of the
building, and united with you, the
one that had brought her joy for so
many years. It feels like a perfect
fit. It’s like I was made for you. My
purpose is now fulfilled. I heard
them talking about burying us
tomorrow. In the deep soil of the
Mother Earth. There, we will rest
together in peace, far beneath the
cycles of the moon for all eternity.

The Dream
First Place Winner!
By: Quinn Garcia, Age 13,
California USA
Description: A teenager recounts
a dream they had to their older
sibling.
Genre: Dramatic

Last night, I had a dream. We

were all in it. You and Papa and
me. We were all at my old
kindergarten, down off 2nd and
45th. We were looking at the tall
sign outside, the one where you
could rearrange the letters to spell
what you like. (beat) I can’t
remember what it said. I wish I
could. It was important, I
remember. Something to do with…
well, never mind. The odd thing
was, there wasn’t anyone there.
No parents, no children, no
teachers. I didn’t think it was
strange at the time, but now… it
felt almost post-apocalyptic. As if
we were the last people on Earth.
Then we went inside the
kindergarten, and I was suddenly
standing on top of a ravine, and
below me was a long, winding
river, and mist clung to the steep
edges of the ravine like gray wool
to rough wood. And you were
there. You and Papa, but Papa
looked different now. He was
just… blank. Nothing on his face,
like it was incapable of emotion.
And all of a sudden the edge of
the cliff crumbled away beneath
me and I was slipping, and you
were grabbing at my clothes trying
to save me while Papa (beat)
Papa did nothing. It was like he
couldn’t even see me anymore,
couldn’t hear me screaming for
help. I don’t remember screaming
for help, but I know that I did, just
like I know that fish can swim, just
like I know everything in my
dreams. I just know. And then I
was falling, faster and faster, and
the river, shiny and wicked, was
rushing up to meet me, faster and
faster and faster and then (beat) I
woke up.

Very Bad Day

Second Place Winner!
By: Lizzie Towell, Age 18, Texas,
USA
Description: Snow White leads a
support group for princesses who
have evil stepmothers.
Genre: Comedic
Well, it’s actually kind of a long
story, but I suppose we have time.
I woke up, and I was really tired,
right? So, my eyes aren’t even
open when I take a shower and
wash my hair. Apparently my emo
little sister left her hair color stuff in
the shower, cause my hair was
bright green when I took the towel
off. You see this, right? It’s the
ugliest color I’ve ever seen on a
human being. Anyway, I try to
forget about it. I figure I can deal
with my sister when she gets
home from school. There’s no
need to have her miss anymore
school than she needs to: her
teachers already get a lot of
practice writing the letter F. Then,
mom said I had to get groceries,
and the people who work at
grocery stores wouldn’t judge you
if you showed up riding a unicycle
with a parrot on your head, so
green hair shouldn’t get many
looks. Well, it did, and the face
painting stand in front of the store
saw me as easy prey immediately.
“Let us practice face painting on
you,” they said. “It’ll wash right off,
and you can win a Starbucks gift
card,” they said. Neither of those
happened. My face still looks like a
giraffe dipped in acid and the
Starbucks gift card had 27 cents
left. I’d been humiliated, and there
was no way I was grocery
shopping after all that. The family
can do without eggs for a few
more hours. You would think that’s
all the bad things that can happen
in one day, right? Wrong. As I’m
walking home, this child (may the
Lord never curse me with the
burden of offspring) screams like
it’s being slaughtered by the
boogieman himself. I look around
and try to figure out what on this
good green Earth could possibly
warrant such a horrible sound
when the child’s mother looks at
me with the tired eyes of one who
deals with a three-foot-tall
chimpanzee all day. She hands
me the leash to her dog as the
small banshee screeches on.
“She’ll forget she ever wanted this
thing,” the mother says, then walks
away, dragging the feral creature
away and leaving me with
something not much better: a dog.
I can’t even take care of myself,
how am I supposed to take care of
a thing without a sense of self-
preservation, judging from its
missing leg? I don’t know, but I’m
this dog’s parent now. His name is
Bagel, by the way. So yeah, that’s
how I ended up with bright green
hair, my face painted like a giraffe,
and a three-legged beagle.

Dying to be Thin
Third Place Winner!
By: Clara Johnson, Age 17,
Pennsylvania, USA
Description: A teenager explains
her obsession over her weight.
Genre: Dramatic

I’ve been thin all my life. But not

the “wow you’re so thin? Do you
even eat?” thin. I’m only the
accepted thin; where no one would
even take a glance at me, ya
know? I always wanted to walk
into a room and be the eye catcher
because of how thin I could be. I
wanted to be so thin, that I wanted
my cheekbones to look like they
were stabbing through my skin; or
my ribs begging for more room to
grow. But that would be fatal, so
that’s super unrealistic. Some
nights before going to bed, I would
stand in front of my body length
mirror and just poke and grab at
my fat. See, I know about all of the
eating disorders, but I was never
diagnosed. I still never understood
why my relationship with food was
different than my friends’
relationship with food. I thought it
was normal to be scared around
food. Every time I’d step on a
scale, I felt like the numbers would
explode off the screen onto my
face, screaming at me to get off. I
always hated physicals because
then I would know how much I
actually weighed. I remember at
one time I was obsessed with
numbers, I started counting
calories, weighing myself all the
time, etc. It started to become
annoying and time consuming, I
didn’t stop; I simply just took a
break. Instead of writing down the
numbers, I downloaded multiple
calorie counting apps and fasting
apps. I’ve been slacking really bad
about recording what I ate every
day. Mainly because I have a life
and responsibilities; so I would just
count the calories in my head,
before I ate. I also compare myself
to other girls, a lot. By how they
look, how pretty they are, how
skinny they are, if they are skinnier
than me. It ruins my self-
confidence and self-esteem. I’ve
been doing it all my life; it’s not a
great trait to have. Being a skinny
girl in today’s society gives you so
much privilege, no matter what
race or gender you are. So, I
thought if I was skinny enough; I
would be accepted, and people
would actually like me. However, I
know not everyone will like me, but
at that time it made sense.
Although I’m nowhere near
perfect, I still have a lot of work to
do. More than half of the stuff I
talked about I still to this day. I
wish that every girl like me could
easily start to love themselves.
One day I hope to wake up and
not think about my weight, or
calories, or what everyone thinks,
and just simply love being me, ya
know?

Girls
By: Kimo Horvath, Age 16, Texas,
USA
Description: A boy describes his
woes in trying to understand girls.
Genre: Comedic

I used to believe that I could

understand girls. I thought I could
always tell what they were saying,
always know what they meant. But
that was a long, long time ago. I
have since learned that girls are
impossible. No matter how hard I
try to discover the secret of what
goes on in the mind of a female, it
will forever be a mystery. One day
they could want one thing, and the
next day change their mind. Or
say something like, “I’m fine,” even
though they are definitely not fine.
What confuses me most is that
girls genuinely think guys can
decipher what they say. And I’m
like, “How do you expect me to
know that you want to talk about
something when you specifically
say to me, ‘I don’t want to talk
about it’?” Just tell me you want to
talk about it, it’s not that hard. In
my opinion, girls should just say
what they mean and not send
hidden messages. Understand
that we, as boys, will never
understand the mind of a girl.
Please know that we spend long
hours thinking about the
thousands of meanings their
words could have. And finally, girls
need to get the hint that guys don’t
get their hints.

The Nomad
First Place Winner!
By: Astra B., Age 16, NYC, USA
Description: A nomad tells his
sister his philosophy on life and
why he chose his lifestyle.
Genre: Dramatic

I can’t believe you found me,

Kendra. Yes. Today is my birthday.
I’m 32. Born again or this is my
only birth? That I still haven’t
figured that out yet. All I know is
that today, this day, is my first
birthday. I know that might sound
ridiculous or perhaps it is, and I
am the crazy one, but I feel it.
Today. (pause) What do I feel?
(Breathes in, breathes out.) Alive.
To live, to exist and to be alive.
They all balance on a tightrope
struggling to remain steady over
the sea of death. Because
evidently with any of the three you
can and will eventually go into the
sea of death. Whether you jump,
plummet it, tip or fall into it, is a
whole other story though. You see,
I know you’re most likely confused
right now and to that I say you’re
hugging the tight rope as you exist
in this world. We all exist from the
moment we come into life that’s
just how it is, it’s like a chore. First,
we don’t ask to be here then
BOMB, we’re in the world with all
these worldly duties that we have,
like to be nice to your neighbors,
go to school, grow up and be
something, blah blah you know the
rest. And on top of that, the world
is full of negativity, like poverty,
famine, kidnapping, disease. You
know it all because you live in the
world. But for the earthy humans
you realize how cruel this life can
be, so you just do your best to get
by. It’s not the worst thing to do.
It’s what I’ve been doing for 32
years. And you know why so many
do it? Because it’s secure. You go
to school for donkey years then
you graduate. You hear so much
about college all your life, so you
feel like a failure if you don’t go.
So, you go. And after, you follow
the river of job, money, family,
mistakes, money, good stories,
retirement money, money and then
some more money, then you have
grandkids and die. I mean, I’m not
judging you, as I said before, I was
going throughout that order too. I
hated that tie that I had to clip on
to my plain button down shirt each
morning, I hated the time it took to
press my khaki pants just for them
to get a coffee stain from eating
breakfast on the go, or having to
re-press from all the sitting I was
doing. I hated the morning
greetings, office space, computer,
type, print, fax, break, small talk,
back to office, yawn, staring at the
clock, print, make mistake,
constantly worry for the sake of my
job. I’m sorry but even just thinking
about it makes me pity him, the old
me. I was always just walking to
get somewhere, never just to
wander off into some cave and get
bit by I don’t even wanna know, or
throw a rock over a seagull’s head
in order to get the piece of bagel it
was going to steal from me, or
have to drive around to the
nearest beach to catch a bath
before families started coming in
and setting up their volleyball nets.
I know what you’re thinking. That’s
not a life you would want to live. I
know that’s what they all say.
You’re all worried about me!
Wondering what happened. Why I
became such a slack off. But you
know what? I don’t care. Maybe
it’s an art to not care. Because
although you see me as a lunatic,
what you don’t know is that most
mornings I lay flat on my back
playing the stars awake with the
strumming of my guitar. And I get
to walk on a beach that’s empty
just for me, on golden sand freshly
washed by night waves. What you
don’t know is that one fateful night
I went to that bridge over the river
of death, and instead of dropping
my own life in there, I dropped the
trappings of it. I dropped my
working papers along with the
uniforms made by society to make
us all the same clones of work
slaves. You don’t know the elope I
have with mother nature each time
I discover a new piece of her rich
beauty in the unimaginable acres
she has to unfold just for me. So, I
realize that this life I’ve chosen is
disappointing and confusing to
you. But I have chosen this, and
I’m happy. And I hope the best for
you. Remember you only live,
exist or be alive once. And this
birthday boy is going to be ALIVE!
I’m glad that sought me out to wish
me a happy birthday, Kendra. But
quite honestly, every day is my
birth-day now.

Asphalt and Sky

By: Isabelle P., Age 14,
Wisconsin, USA
Description: A teen explains why
they are suicidal.
Genre: Dramatic

(Actor kneels at the grave of

his/her mother.)

Mom, I wish you were here so that

I could talk to you. I’ve been
wanting to tell you about all this
pain and numbness that I feel will
never go away. It’s the reason I
wear hoodies all the time, why I’m
so tired. Having all this doubt in a
better existence. First I tried to tell
dad, but he was asleep. I didn’t
want to bother him with my
problems after he had to work the
night shift this week. Velicity and
Xander are in college now and
they have class today. Sometimes
it really sucks to have siblings who
are ten years older than you,
never getting to play with them,
never having someone there when
you need them. Then when I got
on the bus, I was going to tell
Izumi, but he wasn’t on the bus.
Then at school I couldn’t get in
with the counselor or any of the
people in the office, and all of my
friends ignored me when I tried to
speak to them. Then I thought,
maybe it was a sign, a sign that no
one cares or that I’m not important
enough, that I’m worthless,
irrelevant. That maybe the world
would be better off without me…
Now as I sit here next to your
grave, I wonder will anyone miss
me if I was gone? But now it’s
decided. After I leave here, I’m
going to that high bridge over the
interstate freeway. From there, it’s
just me, the asphalt and the sky. I
guess I will see you soon.

Gas Station Murder

By: Julian K., Age 13, Wisconsin,
USA
Description: A murder suspect
tries to prove his innocence to the
court.
Genre: Dramatic

(Actor sits in a chair as though

he/she is on the witness stand
being questioned by the
prosecutor.)

If you’ll just let me talk, I’ll explain!

Look, I know there is a lot of
evidence pointing towards me, but
you have to believe me. I really am
innocent. When the murder
happened, there were only three
people in the entire gas station,
me, the gas station attendant, and
that truck driver. If you ask me, I
think it was the gas station
attendant. When the truck driver
walked into the gas station, he
looked at the guy and gave him a
really strange look. The attendant
just stared at him. Judging by the
way both of these people acted, I
think that they had some secret
connection. Then the truck driver
walked past me and headed for
the bathroom. I watched him enter
the bathroom, but when I looked
back at the check-out desk, the
attendant wasn’t there. I waited
about fifteen minutes, then I
realized that I had to go to the
bathroom. I set my stuff on the
counter and headed around the
corner to use the bathroom. When
I walked in, I saw the truck driver
lying on the floor covered in blood.
It was everywhere. That’s why my
footprints were in there. I
immediately called 911. I didn’t
want to leave the bathroom
because I was afraid the attendant
would be out there. So instead, I
just waited for the cops to arrive.
When they found me, they
arrested me! I was brought to their
car, I looked at the check-out desk
and I didn’t see the attendant
anywhere. You’ve got to find that
guy. I’m telling you, you’re wasting
your time with me! The real killer is
out there probably killing more
people!

First Cat on Venus

First Place Winner!
By: Derek Olsen, Age 11, Iowa,
USA
Description: The first person to
visit Venus shares a video diary
about his scientific mission and the
challenges of bringing his cat
along.
Genre: Dramatic

Today’s date is April 5th, 2040.

This is my first video diary after
becoming the first earthling to visit
the planet Venus. I still cannot
establish contact with NASA, so I
will recap for anyone who is
listening. Two decades ago, in the
year 2020, scientists hypothesized
that the clouds of Venus might
have bacterial life. My mission is to
gather a sample of Venus’
atmosphere and scan it for proof
of life. My trip to Venus took two
months. My spaceship is small, so
my only companion is my cat,
which took me a while to convince
NASA to let me bring. Thanks to
NASA’s Food-In-A-Tiny-Box
program, all my cat and I have to
eat is dehydrated, compacted
food. I would like to have a word
with whomever thought of this. My
cat can no longer taste the
difference between rehydrated
tuna, which he loved back on
Earth, and rehydrated citrus which
he would never touch back on
Earth. My cat doesn’t like being
weightless. He can’t climb on his
cat tower or practice jumping off
the tower and landing on his feet.
When he jumps, he floats to the
ceiling, occasionally bumps his
head on the lightbulb and breaks
it, making the room dark. I’ve had
to replace the lightbulb twice
already, so I’ve decided to tape a
pillow to the lightbulb. Now my cat
can no longer break it. I’m starting
to regret bringing him on this
mission, because that was the
only pillow NASA packed for me.
There’s a small gas leak in the
spaceship’s cooling system, which
makes a high-pitched squeaking
noise. That is not good for two
reasons: 1) It’s getting hot in here.
2) My cat has been looking for the
squeaking “mouse” for the past
two weeks. He really wants to
catch the “mouse” because the
rehydrated foods all taste the
same. He’s looking for something
that doesn’t taste like year-old
toothpaste. My spaceship also
brought a small blimp to Venus.
This blimp will allow me to fly
through the clouds and collect
samples. To collect the samples,
I’ll use gloves with motion sensors
to control two big robotic arms on
the exterior of the blimp. With
these arms, I’ll scoop some of
Venus’ clouds into a jar, screw the
lid on, and bring the jar back to
Earth. My cat is not allowed in the
blimp because he might scratch a
hole in it with his claws, causing
the blimp to crash into Venus’
surface, where I will be cooked
alive. That’s unfortunate because
my cat really wants to come with
me on the blimp. So, tomorrow, I’ll
be boarding the blimp and getting
ready to collect a cloud sample
with possible bacterial life, but not
before saying goodbye to my cat.
If all goes well, and I’m not killed
immediately by accidentally
coming in contact with a deadly
space bacteria, or being scorched
on the planet’s surface, my next
entry will be tomorrow.

Cheating
Second Place Winner!
By: Kallie Carter, Age 17, Georgia,
USA
Description: A young woman tells
a co-worker about her lifetime of
cheating.
Genre: Comedic

(Actor pantomimes washing and

drying dishes intermittently during
the monologue.)

How’d I wind up here? Well, I

wasn’t supposed to be washing
dishes for a living. That’s for sure.
What finally got me was Harvard.
The school I’ve been dreaming
about since I was a little kid. It’s all
I’ve been thinking about since
graduation. As soon as I finished
my Valedictorian speech I was
done and out of high school. My
mom told me it was the most
beautiful speech she’s ever heard.
She got calls for weeks after that
praising my academic
achievements. She got calls like
this often even as far back as third
grade. I guess I might as well tell
you that that’s when cheating
began. Since then I have been
able to cheat my way through
school like the best of them. One
time at fifth grade field day, I cut
holes in my potato sack to win the
race. How did no one notice, you
might be wondering? Two words:
brown shoes. They matched the
potato sack perfectly. Everyone
else was left hobbling around like
idiots while my brown shoes
trudged through the grass. No one
suspected a thing when I was first
at the finish line. I was better than
everyone else and that is how I
like it. In middle school I got
trickier. Every test I took in middle
school was a breeze. Stealing the
Teacher’s Edition textbook helped
I guess. The night before each test
I wrote the answers on my thigh
and made sure to wear a skirt
because if the teacher tells you to
pull your skirt up, they are bound
to get in trouble. As I entered high
school, the cheating became
serious business. I was known for
how smart I was. My Junior year I
hired someone to take the SAT for
me. This wasn’t an easy task, but I
was able to forge a test ticket.
Let’s just say copy and paste is
the best thing ever created. Now
that you know how I got into my
dream college, it’s time to tell you
how I got kicked out. I was sitting
in my Intro to Law class taking a
test with flashcards tucked under
my thigh. You thought the cheating
would stop after I went to college?
I walked out of the class knowing I
aced it. My hot pink flashcards
though were left on the seat. You
can probably guess the rest of the
story. The professor called my
parents to inform them I was
kicked out. My mom came and
picked me up in her white Benz.
She was speaking to me the whole
way back to this Podunk town.
Something about her reputation
being ruined. I was too busy
thinking about how fast my life has
gone downhill and how easily it
could’ve been avoided. If only I
would’ve written the answers on
my thigh and not on the hot pink
flashcards.

Ticket
Third Place Winner!
By: Celeste Pompa, Age 16,
South Carolina, USA
Description: A young driver gets
pulled over for the first time.
Genre: Dramatic

(The actor should pantomime

driving a car and being pulled
over. The actor is also speaking to
a friend, hands-free on a cell
phone.)

I’m sorry. I’m running late. I should

be there in about five minutes.
(looks in the rearview mirror,
scared, and then yells in
frustration) Oh no. No! Dude, I’m
getting pulled over! I think I was
speeding. Okay, okay, I’ll stay
calm. But what do I say? cause
he’s definitely gonna ask me why I
was going so fast. I could tell him I
was late for work. No, ’cause then
he’s gonna ask me where I work
and he might call them. I…I could
say there was a family emergency.
No, no I can’t make it too serious.
I’m gonna say I had to pee. But he
won’t believe that everyone says
that. Holy crap! Holy crap! What
am I supposed to give him
again?? I wasn’t paying attention
when my mom was telling me. You
know what, I’m just gonna let him
take me, jail shouldn’t be too bad
right? Yeah right, I couldn’t last an
hour in there. Omg, he’s coming,
he’s coming. Okay, don’t say
anything. I’m leaving you on
speakerphone. (Takes a deep
breath and rolls the window down.)
Hi, um I know, I know. I’m so sorry
I wasn’t paying attention and my
song was on, you know and I was
just in the groove like ” ayyy ayyy
ayyy ayyy, ooouuuuuuu”
(Sunflower) — oh uh sorry but my
foot was just on the gas pedal,
well it’s supposed to be duh,
anyways just give me the ticket I’ll
pay whatever. But like don’t make
it too expensive because my
mom’s gonna make ME pay for it
and I don’t have that kind of
money. Plus, this is my first time
ever getting pulled over so I
should get like a warning or
something right? Okay, you’re
looking at me like I’m crazy, I’m
sorry go ahead. (Pause for a
second as if listening to cop.) Wait
what? For real? (Laughs
awkwardly) Uhh well, I’m so sorry,
oh my God, thank you so much
have a nice day. (Rolls the window
up, and resumes talking to friend
on speakerphone.) Did you hear
that? NO! He didn’t give me a
ticket. I’m driving my dad’s truck.
Anyways he said the tailgate was
open and he saw there was stuff in
the back and he didn’t want it
falling out on me. (Pause) I
KNOW. Like are you serious???
Girl, I was ready to go to jail
(laugh) I swear the craziest things
always happen to me. Anyways,
I’ll be there in five minutes. Maybe
ten. I’m not going one mile over
the speed limit.

The Pool
By: Clara Fields, Age 15, Iowa,
USA
Description: A teen relates to her
mother what summers were like
before a global pandemic.
Genre: Dramatic

Yeah, mom. It is hard not to see

my friends. I ran by the pool today.
It’s different, that’s for sure. Really
different. Without the people,
without the water, it’s just a
skeleton of what it’s supposed to
be. All the water was drained
away, and the gates were chained
up. Even though it wasn’t part of
my route, I ran right over to the
parking lot and sat down outside
the gates. And I started thinking. If
this were any other year, I would
be inside those gates instead of
sitting out there on the pavement. I
might be sitting in a too-crowded
tent playing my sixth round of
Truth or Dare with the swim team
or standing up by the blocks
waiting for a race. Or in the water,
swimming my heart out. Or maybe
I would be at yet another early-
morning practice, the kind where
you moan and complain about the
freezing water and your aching
legs, but you wouldn’t want to be
anywhere else in the world. I could
be playing Marco Polo with my
sister in the evening, still doused
in chlorine from the day’s practice.
For some reason, she always
wins. I think she cheats, but I can
never prove it. We’d probably run
into some college kids playing
basketball, and I’d definitely get hit
with the ball. Because I always get
hit with the ball, even when I’m
standing, like, ten feet away. I
never thought I’d miss that. But I
wasn’t in the pool at all. I was
sitting outside on the pavement,
breathing hard, looking at that
skeleton of a pool and
remembering. I must have looked
pretty crazy. Eventually, I got up
and ran back home. Running’s all
right– it gives me something to
do– but it’ll never be like
swimming. Maybe next year it will
be alright again. (nods) Yeah, I
sure hope so.

Lazy Teacher
By: Emma Gordon, Age 12, New
York, USA
Description: A college student
shares a lesson in empathy with
her friend.
Genre: Dramatic

College is going alright so far, but I

had a weird thing happen to me
today. My chemistry teacher just
walked out of class. After he left
the room I was stunned. Is this
what college is really like? I mean,
he said he just “didn’t feel like
teaching today.” I was like, huh?
You’re telling me I’m going to be in
piles and piles of student loan debt
for the rest of my life so that the
teacher who is supposed to be,
that’s right, teaching me chemistry,
a key part of my future career can
“not feel like teaching!” That’s just
bizarre. I mean, I’m not in art
school or something, right?! Are
you joking? I studied my butt off
for the SAT’s to get into this kind of
college, and this is what I get for
my hard work? I understand that
it’s like the second class of the
year and you want to “form a
relationship with your new
students” or whatever, but not like
that. You know, the teachers in
highschool told us college
professors are going to be “very
strict with us” and “make us work
hard”. I was excited for that! I
mean, what am I going to do 20
years down the line when I’m
applying for a job at the American
Institute of Chemical Engineers
and they say “ Lucia Anderson
Maquel, you are completely
qualified for this job, but we can’t
hire you until you answer this one
question correctly.” Do you know
what the question is going to be?
That’s right, I don’t know what it is
going to be either because we
were supposed to learn that today
but couldn’t because of some lazy
teacher. C’mon man! You’re
screwing up my life here! I’m legit
doing more work in the Spanish
class that I’m just taking for extra
credit than the class I want to
focus my whole life on. Do you
know how hard scientists have to
work in the real world? I probably
won’t be married until I’m 75, yet
this “professor” just dismisses that
with his dumb excuses? I couldn’t
believe it. It’s just so annoying.
Yeah, I’m done… but still upset.
Oh, look who I just got an email
from. Mr. Don’t Feel Like Teaching
today. Oh, wait. Oh no. His wife
was in an accident and he had to
rush to the hospital. She’s okay,
and he didn’t want to alarm us. He
apologized and is offering an extra
class on Sunday. Oh, god I’m a
terrible person. It’s been a long
day. Do you want to get burritos?

Focus
First Place Winner!
By: Elise H., Age 13, New Jersey,
USA
Description: A student with ADHD
talks to her teacher about her
struggles with learning.
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic

Thanks for talking about this with

me Mrs. G. I know I’m struggling
with focus. I’m sure you’ve heard
about it from my previous teachers
too. Every year, in at least one of
my classes, I feel like I’m the
“troublemaker.” I’m not trying to
disrespect anyone or break any
big classroom rules, I just can’t
focus. A big distraction for me is
drawing. I draw a lot. I’ll just be
sitting there in class, and my brain
will start creating a story, and I’ll
feel like I have to draw the
characters. I know I shouldn’t
doodle, and I know I’m missing the
lesson, but I just can’t help it. I
think you should know that about
three years ago I was diagnosed
with ADHD. I wasn’t surprised. I
kinda knew I had it all along. I
figured it out when the teachers
started pulling me aside and
making special charts for me to
help me finish my work. I
eventually got medicine for it. Sixth
grade, the very first year I took the
medicine, was the best year of
school I’ve ever had. But it went
downhill in seventh grade. For
some reason, the medicine just
didn’t work anymore. Maybe it was
the medicine, maybe it was me,
but the seventh grade was worse
for me than fifth grade when I
didn’t have the medicine. They
kept increasing the dose, but it just
felt the same. I had been placed in
all the advanced classes too.
Everyone was so better than me at
everything. I felt out of place.
That’s why I was almost relieved
when I was placed in regular math
classes this year. I have no
problem being average. In fact,
that’s my dream goal. To just be
an average kid. Instead, I stick out
like a sore thumb. Sometimes I
feel like the only one in the whole
class who has problems with
learning. Honestly, I’m starting to
develop insecurities.It’s easy to
think that everyone’s always
watching you when sometimes,
everyone is. Like when the teacher
announces to the whole class that
you got a frowny face on your
chart for the day. Or when the
teacher reads your hall pass out
loud and your whole class knows
you spent half of the period in the
guidance counselor’s office.
People start to ask you questions,
like “Why do you have a chart?”
and “Why were you in the
guidance counselor’s office?” And
they don’t say it, but you know
they’re thinking “Is something
wrong with her?”. I know that I
have problems, and I know that
I’m different, but these problems
are internal, and they don’t have to
be shared with everyone in the
class. That’s why I really
appreciate it when teachers go out
of their way to talk to me privately
when I’m struggling with
something, like you are now. I
would also really appreciate it if I
could be seated next to friends, or
at least surrounded by people that
I’m friendly with. I think the main
reason I draw is that I feel lonely. It
might sound weird, but when I feel
excluded or unwelcomed by the
people sitting around me, my brain
kinda wants to distract me from
how I feel, which is why it’s so
hard for me to pay attention while
doodling. I’ve found that in the
classes where I sit next to a friend,
I do much better. Well, I appreciate
you listening to me, Mrs. G. I really
want to make sure this year is
different.

Evil Reflection
Second Place Winner!
By: Alexis P., Age 11, Austin, TX,
USA
Description: A girl talks about her
frightening experiences with her
evil mirror reflection.
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic

You’re not going to believe this bit

of advice, but I’d be very careful of
spending too much time looking in
mirrors if I were you. I learned my
lesson last week. It all started
when I woke up and began my
morning routines. I was looking at
myself in the mirror when my
reflection started to waver. I stared
dumbfounded at the mirror,
thinking “I’m not moving, so why is
my reflection moving?” Suddenly,
out of nowhere, my reflection
reached out and grabbed me. I
couldn’t believe I just got pulled
into my mirror by my own
reflection! I was freaking out. Hey,
don’t blame me. I think you’d be
freaking out too! The inside of my
mirror looked nothing like what I
expected it to be. It was a big
white room. I walked around and
realized my mirror self was gone! I
think when she pulled me in, she
swapped with me out in the real
world! Oh no, I thought, what if
she’s evil? She must be. She
pulled me in here. I have to get
out! I started banging at the mirror
and shouting “Someone help me!
My reflection has switched with
me!” After a while, I gave up and
slumped against a wall. I started to
wonder if I would ever get out? It
turns out, in the middle of my most
desperate moment, my mirror self
was wreaking some serious havoc
in my life by being mean to
everyone and destroying my
reputation! And I could do nothing.
Finally, my mom entered the room,
so I shouted to her, “Mom! Help
me get out of this mirror!” Low and
behold, she heard me and looked
at the mirror. I told her the whole
story and that I didn’t know how I
could get out. I didn’t know, but my
mom, she is a genius. She said if
my reflection had pulled me in,
maybe she could pull me out. She
stretched out her arms, and my
arms barely made it through the
mirror surface, but my mom pulled
me out! I started laughing and
crying at the same time. Mom
comforted me, and then she
planned what we would do about
my mirror self. We caught that evil
reflection when she came home
from school, and together we
pushed her inside of another big
mirror. She pounded and tried to
get out, but she couldn’t. We took
the mirror to the landfill, and I was
so relieved that she was gone
forever. Eventually, I repaired all
my friendships, so nothing was
lost on my reflection’s havoc. Just
remember this the next time you
look in the mirror.

Iceberg
Third Place Winner!
By: Alex Tuzov, Age 8, Thailand
Description: A merchant ship
captain has a conversation with
the president of an African country
about the iceberg he is towing
back from Antarctica for $1 million.
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic

Hello, president’s office? This is

Captain McGrady. Can I speak to
President Mumumba, please?
Thank you. (beat) Oh, hello, Mr.
Mumumba. How are you doing,
sir? Well, I’m great! Everything is
going as planned. I have this huge
iceberg. Yes, my ship is tugging it.
And I am steaming full speed to
the east coast of Africa. (reporting
excitedly) You are going to have
100,000 tons of ice in a week! Yes,
ice-cold crystal-clear water for the
whole country! (asking, a bit
uneasy)Yeah… uh…Mr. President,
I need the money. $1 million as
stated in the contract…
(disappointed, frustrated) Wha…
what do you mean it can’t be
done? But we have this
agreement! The contract says $1
million for an iceberg from
Antarctica. I have the iceberg.
Why can’t I get the money?
(confused) What? Coronavirus?
Quarantine? Borders closed? The
port is closed,too? But why are
you only telling me about this
now? You could have informed me
before… I’m in the middle of the
ocean, Mr. President! (angry)
Wait? I can’t wait! The iceberg is
melting and in three weeks it’s
going to be a popsicle. (trying to
joke) You are not paying $1 million
for a popsicle, are you?
(demanding desperately) Well,
then open the port, let the Iceberg
in. (beat) No? (giving a new idea,
hoping desperately) Then let’s
sneak it through a smaller port.
(beat) (disappointed) Oh, I
understand, it is too big… (selling
again, inspired, excited) I still think
you should do it, Mr. President. It
would be the greatest thing ever to
happen in your country. Tall and
beautiful mountain of crystal-clear
ice! Enough to provide drinking
water to cities and villages for a
year! Green fields and happy
farmers! (brightened with a new
idea, excited) Oh, did I tell you
about the penguins? The iceberg
comes with penguins sitting on
top! Put them in the zoo and
charge people three dollars to look
at them. You’ll get your million
dollars back in no time. The zoo is
closed? (frustrated again,
panicking) Well, sell them as pets.
The best seller of the year! Who
would not want to have a penguin
at home? (beat) No? (panic) Uh…
or …or…build a huge ice-slide and
rent out sleds and skis! Or a
skating rink! I can volunteer as a
skating coach as soon as I get one
million! Yeah, I played hockey.
(excited, inspired with his new
idea) It can be a huge ice theme
park. With people skating, skiing,
sledding, having fun in the snow,
making snowmen, feeding
penguins…! You know what, forget
about it! You don’t want the
iceberg? Fine. I’m keeping it! It’s
worth so much more than just
1million!

Middle School
By: Avalon C., Age 13, Missouri,
USA
Description: A teen reassures her
younger sister that Middle School
won’t be as bad as she things.
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic

(knock knock) Who is it? Oh,

Anna. Come here. Are you still
scared about tomorrow? I know.
The first day of middle school is
written as scary in all of the
movies, but it’s not that bad. You
still have the same friends as last
year, and the lunches are only a
little different, so how can it be that
bad? Choosing my outfit got
harder in Middle School, and to be
honest so did everything else.
Friend groups got more
complicated, so was lunch, seating
choices, there was so much
homework, and the teachers were
really different. But different does
not always mean bad. I made a lot
of new friends in Middle School,
some that I still have all the way to
now, in high school. I learned to be
more independent and even
learned about money
management. Plus, all the other
things that you learn in school.
Still, Middle School should be
written off as neutral. Even though
there are all of these scary things
happening, all of these good
things happen too. That’s why you
shouldn’t be scared Anna, you’ll
love Middle School, I promise.

Wish Me Luck
Second Place Winner!
By: Louis McCartney, Age 17,
Northern Ireland
Description: Marilyn Monroe talks
at her own funeral about three
important moments in her life.
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic

I think I was twelve. Yeah, twelve. I

was on holiday with my family. We
were driving along laughing and
joking. After a while, me and my
stepdad started arguing. I can’t
even remember what it was over,
but things got pretty heated. My
mum told my stepdad to pull into
this gas station, stretch our legs
and chill out a bit. I climbed out of
the car and walked over to the
public toilet. When I came back
out again, the car was gone. My
mum and stepdad had left me. I
walked into the shop and asked
the guy working there if he saw
where the car went. He could
barely look me in the eye. He said
he saw me walk into the toilet and
as soon as that door closed my
parents shared a look, ran to the
car, jumped in and drove off. You’d
think I’d be surprised, but I wasn’t.
My parents always liked their
drugs better than they liked me. I
had no money and no phone. It
was getting late, so I started to
hitchhike. I stood there for hours,
until finally I got a lift into the city.
For the first few nights I slept
rough. If you’re ever looking for a
nice, quiet, safe place to sleep
rough in a city, try a graveyard. No
one messes with you there. I
started to steal cars, sell them for
a hot meal and a cheap hotel. Got
arrested and ended up in a
juvenile detention center. That
place was crazy; it was like a 24/7
dogfight. The guards used to lock
us in our dormitory at night and not
show up again ‘til the morning.
The savagery that took place there
was unbearable. After I got out of
there, it was back to stealing cars.
Got arrested again and it was
rinse and repeat with juvey. That’s
where I took my first hit of heroin.
You know, heroin will give you
everything, but you’ve got to be
prepared to give everything to
heroin…and I did. This is the first
day I’ve been clean in four years.
But the only time I feel happy and
content is when I’m on heroin, so I
don’t know if I’m ever gonna’ get
off it. But God loves a trier, so here
goes nothing. Wish me luck.

Moment #2: Marilyn Monroe

productions Meeting Milton
Greene + Escaping Fox

Can I be honest? Fox wasn’t so

wonderful. It did give me a lot.
Movies. Magazines.
Marilyn Monroe was a celebrity.
Whoohoo! But I didn’t have a
friend. Not until I met Milton
Greene. One day I saw a beautiful
portfolio and wanted to meet the
photographer. When I saw him I
was surprised by how young he
was so I said. ‘Oh, he’s just a boy!’
and he replied with, ‘hmph she’s
just a girl.’ I liked him because he
wasn’t scared of me. Without
Milton, I would never have
escaped to New York. I wasn’t
going to sign another contract for
anybody but me.

Moment #3 New York / Kennedy’s

birthday

In New York I found love. I was

pushing myself again thanks to the
actor’s studio and UCLA. But the
opinions were still so loud. The
most deafening moment was
JFK’s birthday in 1962. I heard the
voice of James Dougherty ‘Marilyn
Monroe is a stranger.’ I saw the
jealousy on Joe DiMaggio’s face.
He didn’t want anyone else to look
at me. I felt the disappointed glare
of Arthur Miller. I wasn’t what he
needed me to be. Everyone who
ever loved me took a part of who I
was. But Kennedy. Charming
Kennedy. Possibly the only man
who would be considered as my
equal. Kennedy was the worst of
them all. Because loving him took
my life. I was getting better. Until I
was killed, making it look like a
clumsy mistake of my own hands.
Even in death, I’m the dumb
blonde. Who else could it happen
to? There was Dorothy Kilgallen. A
journalist. Who was maybe a little
too good at her job. Dorothy and I
had too much knowledge. And a
woman with knowledge clearly,
can’t be trusted.

Wedding Jitters
Third Place Winner!
By: Astra Baker, Age 16, New
York, USA
Description: her wedding, a bride
is in her head overthinking what
forever would mean.
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic

(Actor is holding a bouquet and

standing as if facing a groom in a
wedding ceremony. Pulls away to
face the audience.)

Until death do us part? That’s a

long time. Like, forever. Forever.
Like forever, forever? So many
things in life take me forever. Like
picking out this wedding dress.
THAT took forever. Or, or picking
out the wedding cake. There were
just so many favors and different
stores with different bakers and
don’t even get me started on the
fillings! But forever…with just one
person? This is the biggest day of
my life and I’ve been talking about
fo- for- FOR LIKE FOREVER, or at
least since I was able to talk and
watch TV. I’d watch all those
beautiful brides walk down the
aisle, looking so beautiful in their
elegant gowns, hair done so
perfectly, holding the loveliest
flowers just below their glowing
faces, bursting with joy, faces
decorated with the biggest smiles,
bright as jewelry, every one of
them feeling like they’re the only
girl in the whole world. And now
that’s me. (pauses, looks at
groom) I love him. I truly do. From
the moment we met dancing
together at that festival a year ago,
until the moment he surprised me
on the beach, written in the sand,
a proposal pulled straight from the
movies. He’s the one for me. I feel
love when I look in his eyes. But…
forever? Oh, just look at him, with
that smile that melts me. He’s my
prince, for sure… but am I his
princess? Can I be that for him,
forever? I’ve been practicing all
week. Those two little words, “I
do.” Everyone in this church is
staring at me. Waiting for my
answer, and he is looking so
longingly at me. Oh, what the
heck. (turns to face the groom) I
DO! (turns back to the audience) I
wasn’t supposed to shout it. Now
everyone is laughing at me. Oh,
what the heck. I gotta get my kiss
now. I’m his princess…FOREVER.
(turns back to groom).

Moment #2: Marilyn Monroe

productions Meeting Milton
Greene + Escaping Fox

Can I be honest? Fox wasn’t so

wonderful. It did give me a lot.
Movies. Magazines.
Marilyn Monroe was a celebrity.
Whoohoo! But I didn’t have a
friend. Not until I met Milton
Greene. One day I saw a beautiful
portfolio and wanted to meet the
photographer. When I saw him I
was surprised by how young he
was so I said. ‘Oh, he’s just a boy!’
and he replied with, ‘hmph she’s
just a girl.’ I liked him because he
wasn’t scared of me. Without
Milton, I would never have
escaped to New York. I wasn’t
going to sign another contract for
anybody but me.

Moment #3 New York / Kennedy’s

birthday

In New York I found love. I was

pushing myself again thanks to the
actor’s studio and UCLA. But the
opinions were still so loud. The
most deafening moment was
JFK’s birthday in 1962. I heard the
voice of James Dougherty ‘Marilyn
Monroe is a stranger.’ I saw the
jealousy on Joe DiMaggio’s face.
He didn’t want anyone else to look
at me. I felt the disappointed glare
of Arthur Miller. I wasn’t what he
needed me to be. Everyone who
ever loved me took a part of who I
was. But Kennedy. Charming
Kennedy. Possibly the only man
who would be considered as my
equal. Kennedy was the worst of
them all. Because loving him took
my life. I was getting better. Until I
was killed, making it look like a
clumsy mistake of my own hands.
Even in death, I’m the dumb
blonde. Who else could it happen
to? There was Dorothy Kilgallen. A
journalist. Who was maybe a little
too good at her job. Dorothy and I
had too much knowledge. And a
woman with knowledge clearly,
can’t be trusted.

The Life of Marilyn

Monroe
First Place Winner!
By: Jasmine Scholz, Age 17,
Australia
Description: Marilyn Monroe talks
at her own funeral about three
important moments in her life.
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic

Moment #1: Funeral of Marilyn

Monroe August 8th, 1962 Opens
with the funeral presenter.

‘We are gathered here today to

celebrate the life of Norma Jean,
better known as Marilyn Monroe.’
Actress transforms becoming
Marilyn. I kinda hoped to live up to
more than this. But didn’t I have
everything anyone could want? It
was 1946, and I had been signed
by Fox. I was going to be a movie
star! My husband James didn’t like
it. He said I was becoming a
stranger to him. (Apply red
lipstick.) I never wanted to marry
him. I stood there, 16 years old
and I thought, ‘Dear God, please
don’t say those vows.’ He said em,
and then I thought ‘Maybe I could
run away?’ Then the priest said
‘Speak now or forever hold your
peace.’ I said nothing. That’s when
I became Norma Doherty. Thank
god I changed it to Marilyn.

Moment #2: Marilyn Monroe

productions Meeting Milton
Greene + Escaping Fox

Can I be honest? Fox wasn’t so

wonderful. It did give me a lot.
Movies. Magazines.
Marilyn Monroe was a celebrity.
Whoohoo! But I didn’t have a
friend. Not until I met Milton
Greene. One day I saw a beautiful
portfolio and wanted to meet the
photographer. When I saw him I
was surprised by how young he
was so I said. ‘Oh, he’s just a boy!’
and he replied with, ‘hmph she’s
just a girl.’ I liked him because he
wasn’t scared of me. Without
Milton, I would never have
escaped to New York. I wasn’t
going to sign another contract for
anybody but me.

Moment #3 New York / Kennedy’s

birthday

In New York I found love. I was

pushing myself again thanks to the
actor’s studio and UCLA. But the
opinions were still so loud. The
most deafening moment was
JFK’s birthday in 1962. I heard the
voice of James Dougherty ‘Marilyn
Monroe is a stranger.’ I saw the
jealousy on Joe DiMaggio’s face.
He didn’t want anyone else to look
at me. I felt the disappointed glare
of Arthur Miller. I wasn’t what he
needed me to be. Everyone who
ever loved me took a part of who I
was. But Kennedy. Charming
Kennedy. Possibly the only man
who would be considered as my
equal. Kennedy was the worst of
them all. Because loving him took
my life. I was getting better. Until I
was killed, making it look like a
clumsy mistake of my own hands.
Even in death, I’m the dumb
blonde. Who else could it happen
to? There was Dorothy Kilgallen. A
journalist. Who was maybe a little
too good at her job. Dorothy and I
had too much knowledge. And a
woman with knowledge clearly,
can’t be trusted.

Little Racist Things

Third Place Winner!
By: Thandie C., Age 12, USA
Description: A middle-schooler
talks about racism among
children/kids from their point of
view, in front of their class for an
English assignment.
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic

It’s the little things that are racist.

Like for example, there’s that
coloured pencil, which is a peach
colour, that everyone calls ‘skin
colour’. That’s racist, but you
never realise that until you’re
older. Peach isn’t the only skin
colour to exist, or maybe people
just say it’s ‘skin colour’, because
they think it’s the only one that
looks good on their drawings. Or
the only one they think is pretty.
Not black. Not brown. Or when the
lights are out and someone yells
for your name, and you’re black,
and everyone is like ‘where did
you go’, ‘it so dark I can’t see you’.
Again (pause), that’s racist. Just
because I may be darker doesn’t
mean you can compare me to
pitch black. If a black person
happens to wear braids to school,
some say ‘you have to wear your
real hair’, ‘you’re not allowed
extensions’. Some of the kids pull
on it, touch it, pat your hair, flood
you with questions, and that’s just
annoying. It’s just little things that
don’t seem racist as a kid, until
you’re way older, and then you
realise, wow (pause), the world
sucks.

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

Genie Blues
First Place Winner!
By: Ethan Roberts, Age 12,
Plymouth, England
Description: The genie in
‘Aladdin’ vents his frustrations
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic

Yes, I’m a genie. It was supposed

to be a secret. But now everybody
knows about me because of
Aladdin. You’ve got the book, the
film, the stage production and of
course the merchandise. There I
am, Aladdin’s big fat comedy
sidekick. Well, let me tell you
something, life isn’t all what you
see in the movies. For a start, look
at me. Do I look oversize to you?
No, I’m very slim actually. The
director, Bob, comes up to me and
says he needs a genie of ‘gigantic
proportions’. Fair enough I say,
puffing out my chest, I can work
out … This was when I found out
they didn’t want me to appear as
myself in the film. Bob comes to
me the next day and says, ‘I’m
envisioning you in blue’. I say, ‘no
problem, blue has always suited
me, it’s my signature color. Of
course, he wasn’t talking clothing,
he meant skin tone. So now I’m a
big, blue blob! Great!… Deep
breathe … After I calmed down, I
thought, never mind, it will still be
my story, I’ll just look a bit different.
‘Come and visit the set, ’Bob says,
‘See how we’ve brought your story
to life.’ Well, I walk in and there’s
sand everywhere and it looks like
a holiday brochure for Tunisia. ‘Not
very Devon is it?’ I say. ‘About
that,’ says Bob, ‘We were looking
for a more ‘exotic’ location.’ ‘But
you’re never going to find a
grocery store around here are
you?’, I reply. ‘Hmm,’ says Bob,
‘I’ve been wanting to talk to you
about that.’ Apparently, the true
story…that I came out of a milk
carton in the local supermarket
when Alan unscrewed the lid,
wasn’t ‘exciting enough’, it didn’t
scream ‘blockbuster’. ‘We’re going
with Aladdin rubbing a magic lamp
to summon you instead,’ says Bob.
(Sighs, head in hands.) I consulted
my solicitor. He said that because I
signed over my rights, I have
limited input on how my story is
told. Something about artistic
license. Of course, by this point, it
isn’t my story anymore anyway.
Apparently, they thought ‘Aladdin’
was the standout character.
Handsome guy gets the girls and
all that … and by the way she was
actually called Sandra, not
Jasmine, and she was no oil
painting, let me tell you. Anyway,
it’s Alan’s, I mean ‘Aladdin’s’ name
in lights and I’m there in his
shadow providing the cheap
laughs. The very cheek of it. I’ll
have you know I did method acting
in my youth; I’ve had calls from the
RSC. I am not and never will be a
joke act!

Pasta on Trial
Second Place Winner!
By: Joel C., Age 16, Melbourne,
Australia
Description: A pasta maker
defends himself in a murder trial.
Gender: Any (can be changed to
the wife on trial)
Genre: Comedic

Actor should be quite emphatic,

triumphant even, in his delivery.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury,

neither myself and nor my
company, nor pasta had nothing to
do with the untimely death of my
wife. I beg for this case to be
dismissed before my company
suffers further. For almost a
decade, our company has held the
largest market share for pasta in
the world. We have been through
thick and thin, (and angel hair)
fighting our adversaries and
overcoming hurdle after hurdle. It
has been a long and treacherous,
unforgiving path, especially with
the invention of keto diets. But we
have made it, and we stand here
together, today, in defiance of the
odds, in unity. And it is of my
utmost pleasure to announce that
we are becoming more than pasta
manufactures, today – we are
pasta pioneers. You are all familiar
with ravioli, we have been bred
and raised on the stuff, the
epitome of pasta. And tomorrow, if
I am not imprisoned, our company
will honour our ancestors, and our
nation, by unveiling our sausage
filled ravioli, sausoli, patent
pending. This revolutionary step in
the world of pasta will forever unite
the Australians and the Italians,
with a cuisine that will outlast
societies. I would like to dedicate
this concoction to my late wife,
whom we all adored. Yes, she died
by choking on pasta. But it was not
my fault or the poor linguini’s fault.
Linguini is innocent! My wife
LOVED pasta. She literally loved it
to death. The poor woman gorged
herself on it and that’s what killed
her. I believe that I’ve made my
case clear. You cannot convict me
or my linguini. It will bankrupt us.
Please vote to acquit. Do it for the
children. Do it for the children who
need their macaroni. I rest my
case.

Thanksgiving
Acceptance
Third Place Winner!
By: Genevieve B., Age 15, New
Jersey, USA
Description: A teen nervously
reveals to his/her grandmother
that he/she is gay.
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic

I’ll be out in a minute! Just…Hold

on, just warm up the car! (beat)
Hey, Grammy. I love you too,
yeah; this has been fun. It was
great seeing you. Look, I need to
talk to you before I go. No, no
mom and dad know I won’t be out
for a minute. Don’t worry, they’re
waiting for me, yeah. Look, I really
have to tell you this. No! No, I
loved dinner. The turkey was
great. It was the best Thanksgiving
yet, Grammy. Yeah, it was really
fun to see everyone again, but uh,
Grammy, please, just let me
talk!Thank you. Now, I’ve been
thinking for a long time. Do you
remember when you always told
me that the boys would be chasing
me, because of my amazing good
looks? Yeah, well, I’ve kind of
been running away from them all.
I’m not … scared of them. I’m just
interested in someone else. Yeah.
Someone special… Well, it’s not
actually a- (beat) What’s his
name? His name. Well, I don’t
think I need to say. Embarrassed?
I’m not embarrassed; it’s just not
what you’re going to expect.Well, if
you really want me to say it. I’ll say
it. Eve. Her name is Eve. (beat)
Oh, thank God, the wishbone
worked!

No One
First Place Winner!
By: Chloe Cramutola, Age 16,
New Jersey, USA
Description: In a world where
everyone has gone missing, one
teen remains, imagining that
he/she is a radio show host.
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic

(Monologue can be delivered at a

desk with a prop microphone,
simulating a radio broadcast, or in
front of a laptop, as if the person is
livestreaming or recording a
video.)

Well, good morning world. The

walls are still white, the food still
canned, and the people still gone.
It’s day 47 of absolute isolation,
loneliness, and complete and utter
boredom. Listeners—of which,
there aren’t any—and I don’t mean
to start off on such a low note, but
I’m gonna go insane if I have to be
stuck with myself for another two
months. Actually, I’m surprised I
haven’t driven myself up a wall
yet. The routine’s the same, the
weather’s the same—if anything’s
not the same, it’s me. I’ve learned
to somewhat cope with the silence
and to, rather reluctantly, live on
my own in a house I could never
call my home. Things are… bad,
to say the least. Nowadays,
conversations consist of tousling
with stubborn thoughts or barking
back at my Pomeranian, whose
name is, fittingly, Wilson. At least
he hasn’t left me behind. (pause)
Man. I miss my family. My friends.
Just, talking to people. Saying “hi”
on the way to class. Those three-
hour calls only just starting at
midnight. Heck, even the dreaded
small talk, the awkward
interactions no one wanted…
Right now, I’d give anything to
mess up one more embarrassing
presentation, one last really bad
attempt at asking my crush to
prom. I mean really, you don’t
know how annoying you are until
you’re talking to yourself and only
yourself 24/7, trying to pretend you
have some semblance of a
purpose. Frankly, this whole show
is pointless. What I’m doing now is
pointless. No one will ever hear it.
No one will ever care. Because,
there is… no one.

Psychologist
By: Ava Reis, Age 12, St. Louis,
MO, USA
Description: A teenager is forced
to go and see a psychologist by
their parents.
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic

How do l feel about it? You

seriously just asked me how I feel
about it? Classic. Ya know, this
whole psychologist thing in
general is kind of corrupt. You sit
down, listen to my problems,
(supposedly) and ask me how I
feel? Look, I know my parents
gave you the rundown of my whole
life story or whatever. I heard you
from the waiting room. You know I
was bullied. You know I have
bipolar. You know my grandma
died. How does that make me
feel? Not great. But I don’t let that
stuff define me. I’ve moved on. I’ve
dealt with that stuff on my own. To
be honest, you guys are just
reopening those wounds. Last
night I googled stuff about
psychologists. All I have to say is
wow. Y’all get paid a pretty hefty
salary considering you just sit
down and listen to people go on,
and on about their problems. But I
mean, let’s be honest here. You
don’t actually listen. You’re just
thinking about going home,
watching tv, what you’re going to
make for dinner. Look, I’m not
stupid. You guys are still regular
people. You have your own
problems. If you ask me, I don’t
think you want to spend your time
engulfing yourself in some randos
life. So, I’m just saying maybe
asking me how I feel isn’t the best
approach. Cause, I’m pretty sure I
just told you how I feel. Let’s just
cut this short okay. You can have
that power bar you’ve been eyeing
on your desk, and I can go ride my
skateboard for the next hour.
That’ll make us both feel better.
(gets up and exits)

Zombies
Second Place Winner!
By: Naia Thethy, Age 11,
Washington D.C., USA
Description: A person calls a
government agency and admits to
starting a zombie apocalypse.
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic

(Speaking into a cell phone with

great urgency.)

Hello? Have I reached the

pandemic response team? Oh
good. My name is Chris Johnson
and I have something important to
tell you. I know who started the
zombie virus (pause) it’s me. But I
can explain everything. I work in
DiCor Labs, I had been working on
a medication to cure bad skin.
Now, I believe I accidentally added
some of the other substances that
we had been mixing. One was a
mild antibiotic that was shown to
reduce the effects of aging. I don’t
think that was it, though. The other
one was a chemical that has been
shown to bring people back to life.
(pause) Yes, you heard that
correctly. That’s why I’m calling.
Our test subjects are the ones who
first turned into zombies. I came
back from my break, and everyone
was missing, and I saw on the
news that they were zombies. It
started in our lab. Now, I think I
know the cure. It’s as simple as
mixing part A and part B, and in
theory, it should work. But if it
doesn’t, I can add in some of the
confidential ingredients. (pause)
No, don’t hang up. I’m serious.
(pause) Arrest me? No, you don’t
understand. You can’t lock me
away; I alone can cure this. I know
I made a huge mistake that could
cost hundreds of lives, but if I can
fix it, then it’s not the end of the
world. Look, I have loads of
promising chemicals in my lab and
I’m even willing to test them on
myself. (pause) Okay, yes. Send
someone over. Your scientists will
want to work with me on this. I’m
the only one who knows the
formula. (pause) Okay. Bye.
(hears someone at the door-
maybe a loud crash) That was
quick! (moves toward the door and
offstage and starts screaming)
Noooooo! Zombies!

Vote for Me
By: Sami Taylor, Age 15, Austin,
TX, USA
Description: A teen running for
Student Council President delivers
a terrible campaign speech.
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic

Class of 2020, I have something I

need to say to you. Vote for me.
Not for President, I don’t even
think I’m old enough for that. For
the Student Council, I mean. I
wanna be your class president
cause like prom sucked last year.
And I think you all know I throw a
killer party. A vote for me is a vote
for a better prom. Also, the
guidance counselor, Ms. Beiste,
said that if I want to get into
college, I’m gonna need
extracurriculars like Student
Council, so here I am. Apparently,
my GPA is record-breaking which I
is a good thing, but apparently not
enough to get into the college of
my choice. Without the curriculars,
you know. But yeah, so vote for
me. I’m supposed to tell you why I
would be a good fit for the job but
let’s be honest. You’re gonna vote
for me anyway. Why? Cause I’m
popular, and I’m running
unopposed. But just to fill the time,
I guess I’ll go ahead and tell you
another reason why I’m eligible. I
babysat a lot last summer and I
feel like I was a really good leader.
I got the kids to go to bed, only a
couple hours after their bedtime,
and I supervised when they
cooked my dinner so. Yeah and
also, it’s true that I ran for Student
Council last year but there was a
miscommunication. Apparently
you can’t just run to be Student
Council, you have to run for a
certain position. So, I guess you
could say I’m ambitious. Oh, well.
Time’s up. So remember, vote for
me for President. Of Student
Council not the government…
obviously.

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here.

Supernatural
Computer
By: Ian Shin, Age 16, Austin, TX,
USA
Description: A kid tells a friend
about the time he thought his
computer was possessed and
speaking to him.
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic

I know! Alexa is always listening.

But you want to hear something
even more strange? My computer
has been speaking to me. No, I’m
serious. (pause) Yes. That
computer right there. It happens at
random times, like at night when
I’m in bed and looking at my
phone. At first, it was just saying
things like “turn off your music,” or
“turn off your light.” But then it
started to get more complex; it
started asking me to do favors for
it. Like it told me to buy this new
computer game and have it
shipped to the house. Of course, I
didn’t do it because it’s a
computer. What’s it going to do to
me? Well, the next day, my room
was a complete mess and
something smelled like it died in
here. And on the screen, it said,
“You should have done what I
asked.” That was the last time I
messed with my “supernatural”
computer. The next day when the
computer asked me to order it
food, I didn’t question it and
ordered that food right away. I
ordered it from my house, but it
never arrived. The doorbell never
rang, and my app told me that it
arrived. I don’t know where it went.
Maybe the app and the computer
are working together. Wait. Did
you hear that? Shhhh. (pause)
You heard that, right? See, I’m not
crazy. It just asked me to write a
three-page paper about the civil
war. (realizes something) Wait a
minute. My little brother is
supposed to write an essay about
the civil war. Oh, he is so dead!
(yelling) Jackson!

Storytime
Third Place Winner!
By: Lauren Reese, Age 16, Austin
TX, USA
Description: A parent tries to get
their crazy energetic kids to go to
bed.
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic

Ok, kids. Seriously. It’s time to go

to bed. Lights off, no more talking!
(pause) Ok, fine. I’ll tell y’all one
more story. Hmm, what is trendy
now? Popsockets? VSCO girls?
TikTok? What, those are already
getting outdated? Whatever.
Okay…once upon a time, there
were three sisters, just like y’all.
One who was obsessed with
VSCO, the other who would not
stop making TikToks, and lastly
one who actually went to bed on
time. They decided to go on an
adventure because they had been
bored at home all day. They
wanted to go to a treehouse they
had seen a couple of miles away
from their house. One sister asked
if the oldest could drive them but
she said, “Don’t you remember
Brittany when I was taking my
driver’s test I was eating a banana
and then threw the peel out the
window, which someone
immediately slipped on. Now that I
say that I’m realizing that’s why I
don’t have my license.” So, they
had to walk. Along the way, the
VSCO sister found a great spot to
take some pictures for the gram.
So she made her sisters stop and
take pictures of her. They then
continued and found an awesome
hammock that one of the sisters
wanted to take a nap on but her
other sisters insisted that they
keep moving. When they finally
arrived at the treehouse the last
sister forced the rest of her sisters
to do the renegade with her for
TikTok but what they didn’t know is
that they were in a magical
treehouse that didn’t like TikToks
so it made the girls shrink and they
were sucked into the pop socket
on one of the girl’s phone never to
be seen again. The end. Now go
to bed for real!

Throw it Back!
By: Drew Evans, Age 12, Austin,
TX, USA
Description: A kid playing
baseball gets confused after
catching a home-run baseball.
Gender: Male
Genre: Dramatic

(Actor should be over-the-top

enthusiastic, acting out the
pitches, bat swings, and catches.)

Dad, I wish you could have seen it!

I understand. You’re sick, and
that’s okay. Let me tell you exactly
what happened. It was the top of
the 8th and the LG Twins led by
four. The Doosan Bears had the
bases loaded and no outs. I could
smell the pizza in the air, and I
couldn’t help but smile when the
Twins hit a bomb to center field
earlier in the game. “Strike one”,
yelled the umpire, and everyone
cheered. The pitcher had a no-
hitter going and even though he
just walked three batters the whole
team wanted him to pitch the full
no-hitter. The pitcher throws the
ball. “Strike two”; everyone cheers.
The pitcher winds up and throws
again. With a loud crack, the ball
pops off the bat and the
announcer says, “High fly ball
deep to center field. Kimoto is
back at the wall it is … caught he
robs the home run!” Everyone
goes crazy. Even though a run
scores, it doesn’t even matter. We
also got the double play. The
pitch…the crack of the bat the
stadium goes silent he dives out
and catches it! Wooo everyone
goes insane. In the bottom of the
8th, the twins scored two runs on a
home run. Top of the ninth the no-
hitter is still alive and crack!!! It is
way deep. It’s a no-doubt home
run and it’s coming right for me,
and I caught it! I actually caught it!
Woohoo! Wait. Oh no! Everyone is
chanting, “Throw it back! Throw it
back!” What should I do? I’m
gonna do it. I’m gonna throw it
back! No! It’s a home run ball, but
it broke up a no-hitter alright. I’m
throwing it back. Three, two, one,
rrrrr aaa! I threw it back. Hahaha,
I’m such a mad man. The twins
ended up winning that game but
still, I can’t believe I caught a
home run!

The Sleepover
Second Place Winner!
By: Natalia Santos, Florida, USA,
Age 13
Description: A teenage girl tries
to convince her strict mother to let
her go to a sleepover.
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic

Hey, Mom! (Pause.) No, I don’t

want anything at all. Well, just one,
teeny, tiny, little, insignificant,
totally no-big-deal favor. (Pause.)
PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE,
WITH A CHERRY ON TOP, AND
SPRINKLES, AND WHIPPED
CREAM: CAN I PLEASE GO TO
KATHY’S SLEEPOVER
TONIGHT? Wait! Before you say
no, just hear me out! First of all, I
cleaned my room from top to
bottom, and it’s so clean, you
could eat off the floor! I know you
shouldn’t do it, but it’s a metaphor
– just roll with it. I also mopped the
tile floor in the living room, washed
the dishes, bathed the cat,
polished all the mirrors, took out
the trash, finished all my
homework for the next week, and
booked your next appointment to
the, the… podiatrist. Secondly,
you’ve met Kathy’s mom, and you
guys totally hit it off! I know you
haven’t gotten the chance to check
their wall paint for dangerously
high amounts of lead or check her
bank statements, but I think she’s
pretty trustworthy! She keeps a fire
extinguisher in the kitchen and
everything. Also, she doesn’t have
any big dogs in the house, or any
other risk factors that could result
in injury. So, what do you say, my
loving, supportive, most amazing
mother in the whole, wide world?

The Receptionist
Third Place Winner!
By: Iris Barrera, California, USA,
age 13
Description: A chatty receptionist
scares off a person who comes to
interview for a job.
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic

Hello there, dear. I’m Janice P.

Nelson. The “P” stands for
Penelope, it was my mother’s
name. Everyone just calls me
Nancy though, I’m not sure why.
Mr. Rupert will be with you shortly.
Why don’t you go ahead and take
a seat hon. Oh! No. Not there. Mr.
Rupert sits at that table for his
lunch break, and trust me, you
don’t want to sit there. Mr. Rupert
is very intimidating and you don’t
want to do anything, even
accidentally that could destroy
your chances of getting this job.
Oh, here. How about this armchair
here, the green velvet really
compliments your eyes… I
remember the days when my eyes
were that bright… You look a little
nervous dear. I would be too if I
had to go in there. Here, have a
cup of tea. I know, it’s decaf, sorry
that’s all we got right now. There,
feeling better? I’ve always found
that a nice cup of hot tea can
settle my nerves. You know, when
I got married to my first husband,
Charlie, I was so nervous. I was
practically shaking as I walked
down the aisle… Oh Charlie. He
died almost exactly two months
after the wedding. Mysterious
heart attack, you know? Well, I just
married Charlie’s brother after
that, he was the richer one
anyway…Are you married, dear?
No? Well, you better hurry up with
that, you’ve only got a few years
left before you turn practically into
prune, and then no good man will
want you. Take it from me,
Charlie’s brother died of a heart
attack too⼀I think it ran in the
family⼀ and after that I couldn’t
find another husband. And I was
left with absolutely no fortune at
all, since the brother seemed to
have a gambling problem. That’s
why I had to take this job… What’s
it like? Well, working for Mr. Rupert
has its challenges. For one thing,
he’s quite particular. He’s
obsessed with colors and well, if
you show up one day wearing a
color he doesn’t like, that puts him
in a foul mood all day. I mostly
stick with brown, that seems to suit
him. Also germs. Never, ever
touch Mr. Rupert. I made that
mistake one day, and trust me, I
will not repeat that. He also has a
lot of crazy ideas. He calls them
‘big ideas.’ If he brings one up, its
best to just agree with him, no
matter how absurd it sounds. But
other than that, it’s a great place to
work. If you’re done with the tea,
dear, you can just set it on my
desk. Feel free to take a few of the
peppermints, I saw you eyeing
those. You know what? I think Mr
Rupert will see you now. His office
is right down the hall, third door on
the left. Don’t touch the edges of
his carpet, he really doesn’t like
that. Wait, where are you going?
His door is over here. Come back.
Mr. Rupert will see you now!

Feral Cat
By: Lauren Connally, Texas, USA,
Age 17
Description: A girl tries to
persuade her best friend to
release a feral cat Hannah had
captured.
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic

Look, Hannah, I know you love

him, but you have to get rid of that
cat. I know you keep telling me,
“But Fiona, I rescued him!” No,
you did not. That’s a feral cat if I’ve
ever seen one. He constantly runs
away from you, scratches up
everything you own, and attacks
your face if you get too close.
Trust me, you’ll both be happier if
you let him back into the wild.
Especially the cat. That thing is not
meant to be indoors or near
people. Trust me, I’m doing you a
solid here.

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

Watch another video

performance of this monologue
here!

Bad Day
By: Lauren R., Texas, USA, Age
16
Description: A teen tells a friend
about the worst day of her life.
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic

Talking to a friend on her cell

phone.

What did I do today? You’re going

to be sorry you asked. Today has
been the absolute worst day of my
entire life and it’s only 1 pm. I had
so many things planned, and it
was supposed to be the best day
ever. This morning, I went to
Starbucks to pick up muffins and
iced vanilla chai lattes for me and
Haley and Jessica, but the barista
spilled one of the coffees all over
me. After that, I was still
determined to have the best day
ever, so I decided to drive home
real quick to change out of my
coffee-stained shirt. On the way to
go meet them for some morning
shopping, I got a flat tire. But I
decided to call roadside
assistance to get my car towed
and have Haley come pick me up
and not let it ruin the day. We met
Jessica there, and we were having
fun shopping until we went to a
really expensive store to try things
on for fun and I accidentally tore a
dress I was trying on. That was
definitely a costly mistake. At that,
I asked Haley to drive me back
home because frankly, I could not
handle one more mishap. But she
insisted that it was all just
coincidence and Jessica said that
she would help me cover the cost
of the dress. Then they talked me
into going over to the zoo to see
the new habitat for the turtle that
had been just added. But I was
worried because there were so
many things that could go wrong
at the zoo. So, this shouldn’t come
as a surprise. I was at the zoo and
a monkey pooped on my head.
Yes, I’m serious. It came from out
of nowhere like I don’t even know
how the monkey got where I was
so it could poop on my head
specifically. I decided that was it,
that was the last straw. I walked
six miles home in my new heels
because I knew that if I ever
stepped foot in a car it would
probably explode. (pause)
Tomorrow? What am I doing
tomorrow? You’re out of your mind
if you are considering going
somewhere with me.

The Ex
By: Melany Morales, Florida, USA,
Age 13
Description: A dramatic Hispanic
girl complains about her ex-
boyfriend to her new best friend.
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic

I still can’t believe that Esteban did

that. He left with Brittney’ to
America y me dejo! Well, I don’t
want to focus on him right now. He
wasn’t even that nice-looking,
anyway. I don’t know what I ever
found in that guy. Oh, who am I
kidding? He’s gorgeous, he’s
adorable, he’s…he’s…I can’t keep
doing this to myself! It’s been two
weeks. I should be over that
“Prince Royce-wanna-be” by now.
Pero, I just can’t get over him –
he’s all I think about! (Pause.) Is
that–oh…my…oh…my…
TAMALES! No puedo… it’s…it’s a
pimple! And it’s HUGE! No wonder
he left me. That little Americana –
she must have perfect skin. I could
never. And this pelo! Who in their
right mind would EVER find me
attractive?! I knew from the
moment he left he was disgusted
by my ugliness! (Pause.) Well…
now that I think of it, he did call me
dramatic and loud. He thinks I’m
dramatic?! Oh, sweetie, no, HE’S
the dramatic one. And, I’m
Hispanic, so I don’t know what
quiet is! He’s the one missing out
on the future “Miss Universo.”
(Pause.) Oh…is that the new
neighbor from next door? He can
shoot hoops? Hay, he’s guapo!
Just look at those muscles! That’s
it, I’m out. Brittney, you can keep
Esteban. I have bigger matters to
attend to!

Courage
By: Sophie S., Texas, USA, Age
16
Description: Tommy, 18, is going
away to college, and saying
goodbye to a tiger who has been
his imaginary friend his entire life.
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic

Actor can use a stuffed tiger as a

prop.

You’ve been with me for so long,

through everything, the ups, and
downs, and during all of the
struggles that come with growing
up, you have been my best friend.
What a childhood I’ve had, with a
tiger by my side! You listened to
the stories about the bullies, you
rescued me when everyone else in
the house was yelling out of hurt
and anger. You stayed up late with
me looking at the stars. You
pushed me to be brave and to
stand up for myself, and through it
all, you were there. Like no one
else in my life, you were always
present. No late-night work,
drunken moods, or angry fits could
change you. You never changed,
you were a patient listener, my
courageous sidekick in every
battle, and my trusted confidant.
And now, there is something I
need to say to you. I’m going off to
college next week, and I can’t take
you with me. I know you’re not
real, I know that you are my
imaginary friend. That was never a
problem, because I didn’t want to
go a single day without my Tiger
by my side. But I’m growing up,
heck I am grown up, and grown-
ups can’t go around talking to a
friend named Tiger. So, from now
on I will call you Courage.

Thinking
By: Josh K., Texas, USA, Age 14
Description: A teen wrestles with
trying to stop thinking so much.
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic

Please don’t ask me what I’m

thinking, mom. I have nothing to
say, like literally nothing, the fact
that my brain is so empty right now
astonishes me. I cannot believe
that there are even words coming
out of my mouth, it’s almost as if
my mind is full. Full of emptiness
however, like invisible metal,
weighing me down and inhibiting
me from saying anything other
than that I have nothing to say. I
am thinking about thinking about
not thinking and that might be
enough make you think about
thinking, which is a lot of thinking.
That gets me thinking what is
thinking? Now I’m thinking about
how not thinking about thinking
made me think about thinking
about not thinking. That’s enough
thinking, time for some television.
What? You want to know what I
thought of last night’s episode of
Grey’s Anatomy? Ugh, I told you…
NO MORE THINKING!

That Which Carries

On
By: Lizzie T., Texas, USA, Age 14
Description: A depressed
teenager assures her friend that
she will be alright…and her reason
is surprisingly simple.
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic

What keeps me going? It’s a weird

answer, but I’ll tell you. Water.
(pause) No, really. Hear me out.
Scientifically, lonely and sad
people love rain due to the
negative ions it releases, which
bring feelings of comfort and
happiness in the midst of the
positive ions coming from most
other things in the world. That’s
the only thing I learned from
chemistry class this year, but I’m
not sure I agree. That water has
been everywhere: icebergs from
the ages before humanity, the river
Caesar crossed, a poisoned well
from the Middle Ages, the glasses
on the Titanic. Water brings a
sense of peace, not only because
of the scientific explanation, but
because I know it will travel on
despite my failures. If I fail my
chemistry test today, or spill Pepsi
on my dress at prom, or flunk my
first job interview, or anything else
that can and will go wrong in the
next week, the same rain that is
soaking through my socks right
now will carry on. And if something
as simple as that can keep going,
I’ll tell myself I can too.

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

Identity Crisis
By: Hedy Z., Texas, USA, Age 17
Description: A utensil in a kitchen
drawer has an identity crisis.
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic

You know the times when you lie

in the dark and ponder upon
questions about life? Well, this is
one of those moments. Since we
are both stuck here for another
good moment, I figure I will tell you
a little about myself, whether you
are interested or not. Really, I just
have to get these words out of my
system. You see, they all say I am
“one of a kind.” I thought that that’s
what people said when you were
strange, and they wanted to be
nice. Where I come from, there are
basically two groups, and I
realized that I don’t belong to
either of those groups. One group,
the group to my left, said I was too
“round” for them; and the ones on
the right? Apparently too “spiky.”
Now, young one, like everyone
else, I wanted to fit in. It I was
desperate to be accepted by either
group. But it never worked. When I
tried to sneak into a group, I’d get
found out and separated pretty
quickly. I think I had
decompression…no, what’s it
called…depression. There you go.
I think that’s what it’s called when
you are sad all the time. But yeah,
it was some dark time… until one
day. One day, someone from the
group to our left said, “Do you
realize you get to work every
day?” Working frequently is like
the greatest honor we could ever
have, by the way.” So I started to
think, why… if I don’t belong to a
group…I get to work the most?
And it struck me like lightning. It
was because I was me. My
roundness and spikes are what
made me stand out. And if I would
take those away, I wouldn’t be
there for our masters and serve
them well. It really is a journey to
maturity…you’ll get it someday. So
now, with no shame and in full
confidence, I can announce to the
world: I am one of a kind. Yes, I
am a spork!

The Coolest Kid in

School
Third Place Winner!
By: Mikala Southern, Georgia,
USA, Age 12
Description: A student tells a
story about how a daredevil stunt
helped him become the coolest kid
in school.
Gender: Male
Genre: Comedic

The stupidest thing I’ve done?

Yeah, I’ve got a story for ya. And it
wasn’t the time I stole a hotdog
cart in Times Square. That was
stupid, but I have one better than
that. The day started off like any
normal day. I grabbed my lunch,
and my dad yelled goodbye and
just like always, he says, “Don’t do
anything stupid.” It’s like my old
man’s motto, and normally, I don’t
listen. But I should have. So, I get
to school and this kid, Elroy, he’s
kinda like my arch-rival. Elroy
comes up to me and says, “How’d
you like to be the coolest kid in
school?” Move out of my way, I tell
him, but he says, “No, really. I
heard about this kid over at West
Union High who was a real
nobody, and then one day, he
jumped onto a moving train and
now, like all the girls are after him,
and it’s like he’s some kind of
daredevil superhero. Just sayin.
There’s a train that comes out
under the tunnel behind the
bowling alley every day at 4:00.
Think about it.” The rest of the day
seemed to last forever. I couldn’t
focus on anything my teachers
were saying, I was too busy
thinking my plan through in my
head. As soon as I got home, I ran
over the bowling alley and climbed
up onto the top of the tunnel.
When I heard the train coming, I
noticed Elroy and a group of his
friends. This would be my
moment! The train burst quickly
through the tunnel and I jumped!
And that is the story of why I am
laying in a hospital bed with a full
body-cast. But hey, there’s a rumor
going around that when I get back,
I’m going to be the coolest kid in
school!

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

Counting Calories
First Place Winner!
By: Nugwa Usman, Canada, Age
16
Description: A girl struggles with
her relationship with food, and with
her desire to fit in.
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic

Mom. Why did you have to bring

home pizza? Yes, I know that I can
have salad instead, and salad is
only 200 calories. It has
vegetables and it’s good for me.
But if I only ate one slice of pizza,
that’s only 300 calories. (pause)
Right, plus what I had morning.
(pause) Well, I had four pancakes.
There are 175 calories in one
pancake, times four. Wait a sec.
(does calculation and is shocked)
700 calories. I ate 700 calories
worth of pancakes. Oh yeah, and
then syrup, which is about 100
calories, plus butter, which is 80
calories a teaspoon, then milk, 130
calories. That’s 1010 calories.
Then I had four cookies at lunch.
180 times four, which is 720
calories, plus breakfast (does
calculation) so 1730 calories. If I
eat that pizza, I will have eaten
more than 2000 calories. So,
salad, or pizza…salad or pizza.
That pizza would taste sooo good,
and you hardly ever bring home
pizza. 2000 calories isn’t even a
pound. I could be healthy
tomorrow. Just look at all that
goody goodness. The warm
mouthwatering softness of the
bread, smothered in rich beautiful
tomato sauce, with the essence of
pepperoni delicately intertwined
and caressed in a beautiful blanket
of cheese. (has a sad realization)
But, I am a fat ass. (pause) No,
mom. It’s true. That’s why those
girls keep calling me names, and
everyone keeps sneering at me
any time I walk by. Even my best
friend won’t talk to me anymore,
the humiliation is probably too
much for her. Or maybe she just
got tired of defending me. But
seriously to just wake up one day
and end a friendship because of
how popular someone is. Who
does that? I mean aren’t we in a
day and age where it’s okay to be
different? Why can’t people talk to
me and get to know me instead of
talk about me and make up
stories. But who am I kidding if
some kid accused me of eating
seven times a day they wouldn’t
be wrong. I have done that before.
What is wrong with me? I hate my
body. I hate being able to grab into
the folds of my stomach. I hate
getting on a scale and feeling like
it’s screaming at me to get off. And
I hate these lines that rip through
my body. I hate every part of me.
(pause) No, mom. I have to say it.
I have to say it out loud. I’m
starving…but I am not going to eat
that pizza. I’m going to be healthy.
For me. And I’m doing it today not
tomorrow. Give me that salad.

The GoodLife
Interview
First Place Winner!
By: Tristin Fuller, Washington,
USA, Age 13
Description: A job interview goes
awry when it’s revealed that the
company is a cult.
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic

Hello… (looks down at paper) …

George. Welcome to GoodLife, my
name is Anya. We are what you
would call a lifestyle brand. I
understand that I am interviewing
you for the accountant position
here. Now as I can see on your
resume, I understand that you
used to work for our rival
company, Bath and Body works.
So, if you do want a job here you
will have to make an oath that you
will never step foot in a Bath and
Body Works ever again. But I’m
sure you’ll find that we have a
great environment here and we
are all just the nicest people. You
will get some special perks for
working here we offer dental and
medical, and we consider your
mental health a top priority. In fact,
we provide a wide range of self-
help books that are mandatory
reading if you choose to work
here. Also, we believe that those
who are drawn to GoodLife are
kind of chosen people. Do you get
my drift? (Samantha enters the
office) Samantha, get out of my
office now I’m not dealing with you
today. Don’t you look at me like
that, I do not want to have another
shrimp incident. Yes, sorry
George, yesterday my boss
Samantha ran at me with a shrimp
cocktail the size of a Clydesdale.
She knows that shrimp is the one
thing I’m scared of. Ok Samantha
what do you want? No, I have not
told him yet, I was just telling him
about our medical and dental
plans before you interrupted me.
(pause) Why would you say that
Samantha?! George I’m so sorry
about her. We are not a cult.
Samantha, you shouldn’t call your
own business a cult. Now
Samantha please leave before I
make you. (Samantha leaves the
office) God I hate that woman.
Now George I’m gonna be honest
with you, we are a cult. (pause)
Samantha created this and I think
it’s starting to drive her, well…
crazy. Not to worry. We have a
team of people and an unlicensed
doctor who delivers shock
treatments working on her. She
should be back to herself in no
time. (pause) Are you suffering,
George? It’s okay to tell me. We,
here at GoodLife have the
solutions to all of life’s problems.
(holds up a book) This here is the
GoodLife Life Guide. In 1,000
simple steps, you will find the key
to everlasting happiness. (pause)
Where are you going, George?
Was it something I said? Wait!
(pause as Samantha reenters)
Okay, so I lost another one. But it’s
not a big deal. Samantha, oh my
god, that man must be the most
depressing person I have ever
met. Not even GoodLife can save
him. (Anya turns to a random
employee) HEY YOU, yeah you
right there. Go run the sales
counter. I’m sorry did you just ask
me why, because I’m heading to
the beach to relax. Well I’m also
going there to watch people get
sunburns and then sell them
GoodLife sunscreen and a
promise of a better future. (Anya
leaves the office)

Stars
By: Dakota Stranger, Georgia,
USA, Age 14
Description: A kid dreams of an
odd encounter that has a real-
world complication.
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic

I remember seeing stars. Stars

everywhere. Not regular stars, but
the Jewish star, worn around
necks and stuck on jackets. They
were rushing past me. Star after
star. I heard men with heavy guns
yelling at people to get in line.
There were women screaming for
their children. I covered my ears
and ran inside and closed the
door. I looked down at my sister
and felt as if the world was ending.
And of course, it was. I yelled at
my sister to get in the basement,
and for the first time, she listened
to me. I looked out the window and
saw a man getting shot, blood ran
down his neck as he fell. I jumped
back in shock and then I heard it.
Boots approaching our door, and
loud knocking. I raced down to the
basement and huddled with my
sister. We held our breath as the
footsteps above grew closer and
closer. The door to the basement
flung open and the sliver of light
shone on us. The man raised his
gun and pointed it at us. I raised
my hands instinctively in front of
my face, and I prayed. And then I
saw stars. The last thing I saw was
stars.

Obsessed? I’m not

Obsessed!
By: Jayden Buitt, Mississippi,
USA, Age 14
Description: A teen has a
conversation with a stranger on a
plane.
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic

Yeah, I’m in high school. (pause)

What are my interests? Well, my
friends say I’m obsessed with
celebrities. I just want to say to
them, “Look you little two-timing
molded fruit cakes, I am NOT
obsessed with celebrities!” The
truth is, I only in love with ONE!
Theo James! I know his age,
address, full name, where he lives,
and where his entire family lives! I
mean we’re basically married. If
you ever get to meet his family,
you will love them! I sure will! I
plan on paying them a little visit.
You know, just to ask them a few
questions like where’s the nearest
hardware store, oh and if Theo
has any cameras at his house.
That is the basic questions you
ask your husband’s parents, right?
Yeah, I know this flight to England
costs a lot of money, but he is
worth it, anything for my hubby!
I’m sure that he has gotten the
hundreds of letters that I sent.
He’s just too busy to write me
back. Oh, I know he will be so
excited to see me, well, when he
regains consciousness anyway!
What’s that? You are calling the
flight attendant to call the police?
Oh, don’t worry! He totally knows I
am coming. I gave him a little call
the other day. I guess he thought I
was some obsessed teen off the
street, but I am SO not obsessed!
What? you think I am obsessed
too? No ma’am! I am in LOVE!
Anyway, here we are! I am so
excited! Wish me luck!

Killer Cat
By: Meredeen Smelser,
Washington, USA, Age 13
Description: A crazy cat lady
thinks that one of her cats is trying
to kill her.
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic

Karen, listen to me. I know this

sounds crazy, but…. I think Max is
trying to kill me. (pause) Yes, my
cat. Can I stay here for a couple of
days while I figure out what to do?
It’s not funny! I’m not kidding!
Okay, you don’t believe me? The
other night, he was waiting for me
at the top of the stairs. He tried to
jump on me when I got to the top,
but I got out of the way. Barely. He
was trying to kill me, I swear! He’s
always hiding in piles of things and
jumping out at me! Look at all
these scratches! (shows hand and
points to both ankles) No, I don’t
know why! I feed him every day, I
give him treats and lots of
attention, everything. Maybe I let
him watch too much TV… I woke
up the other night, with the feeling
of being watched. Now, Max is
always in the living room at night,
but I saw two glowing green eyes
at the bottom of the bed near my
feet. It was Max! He was watching
me while I slept! Okay, that doesn’t
sound that bad, but my door is
closed at night. He opened it! My
door has a knob instead of a
handle! HOW DID HE DO
THAT?!? HE’S A CAT!! Wait, Max
heard me talking on the phone
before I left. He knows I’m here. Is
your door locked?

The Hospital Visit

By: Rylee Budke, Washington,
USA, Age 14
Description: Kendall is seeing her
mom in the hospital while her mom
is in a coma.
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic

(Character sits at the edge of a

hospital bed.)

It has been a hard couple of

weeks without you. Me and Luke
still aren’t used to the house being
so quiet, we miss all the fun times
with you. I’ve been really trying to
keep a happy face for Luke, but
it’s really hard. He (starts to tear
up) tells me how much he misses
your laugh almost every day.
Before I put him to bed, we talk
about all our memories (wipes
tear) that we had with you. Oh
yeah, I just had my birthday. I’m 17
now. I also took up a part time job
to help pay for rent and food. To
try and get our minds off of you in
the hospital (grabs her hand) we
started to watch the videos that
you made of us on Christmas; it
always makes Luke laugh. Well, I
can’t stay long. I have to get Luke
from daycare. I just wanted to say,
I love you and we miss… I hate
seeing you so pale. It’s so weird
seeing you with all these machines
around you. I promise you that I
won’t let Luke see you or
remember you like this. Now I
have to go, but I promise I’ll be
back on Thursday.

Lost in New York

By: Erin Case, Washington, USA,
Age 14
Description: A teen asks a
stranger for help after missing a
train stop while running away.
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic

Excuse me…excuse me… can I

please use your phone? I promise
that it’s not really a big deal. Yeah,
I’m okay. I know, you’re wondering
why but I promise I’m fine. Okay,
three days ago me and my mom
got into another big fight, and trust
me it isn’t the first time we’ve
gotten into a fight. She’d been
yelling at me almost every day for
the littlest things too. It obviously
wasn’t my fault because why
would I do things that would upset
her on purpose? Since she wasn’t
really around much with her work
and everything, I decided that I
could take the train from Ohio to
Pennsylvania, to stay with my aunt
because that seemed like my only
option as long as I was away from
home. I just couldn’t take it
anymore, you know? It seemed
okay, but I slept through the night
on the train and had no choice but
to get off when the train stopped in
New York. I figured everything
would be okay and I could find a
cab to take me to my aunts’ but
then I realized that I left my bag on
the train which had my phone and
all of the money that I could bring.
New York always seemed nice too
I guess, but now that I’m here,
there’s too many people, and it’s
crowded everywhere I go. I didn’t
think that I would miss home, but I
really do. I miss my friends, my
dog, my house, and even my
mom. So much and I would do
almost anything to get back to it
all. I know that she’ll be really
disappointed, and I am too, in
myself. The only thing I can do
now is go home, because I can’t
stay here. So, if I could just use
your phone…

Dear Diary
By: Scarlett Longo, Georgia, USA,
Age 14
Description: A teen tells her diary
about her worst day yet.
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramedy

Dear diary,
A lot happened today, so get
ready. Okay, so this morning, my
nine-year-old twin sisters, Rose
and Emile, just walked into my
room, without knocking, stole my
cardigan, lipstick, necklaces, and
mascara, then walked out. I told
them that they couldn’t take my
stuff, but Emile said, “We don’t
care,” and Rose ignored me.
Then, when I got on the bus this
morning, none of my friends were
on, and I had to sit with a stranger!
Talk about awkward. That’s not
even the worst part of today. At
lunch we had meatloaf, so I went
hungry. Normally one of my friends
has a lunchbox and shares with
everyone, but not today. Then I
forgot to finish my math homework
so now I have to redo it for half
credit. Finally, I got home
expecting to eat a snack and
relax… until my mom said that she
and dad needed to talk to all of us.
Even my little sister, who is only
five. I had no idea what they could
need to talk to us about, but we all
sat on the couch anyway. That’s
when they told us that they’re
having another baby! Can you
believe it? Another one? And the
worst part is that it’s a boy! We are
a family of all girls. Boys are so
gross! I have no idea how I’m
going to live with one. Mom and
dad say I’ll be happy when he is
born, just like I was with my little
sisters, but I highly doubt it. In any
case, I’ll keep you posted.
Until next time, Anna.

The Mystery Club

First Place Winner!
By: Marwan Lahbabi, California,
USA, Age 14
Gender: Male
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A troubled teen tells
his story to a new psychiatrist.

(A boy walks in and sits on a sofa

in his psychiatrist’s office.) So, Dr.
Broomfield is gone, huh? Just as
well, I guess. He was what? Like
eighty? But then again, I gotta be
honest. You look too young to be a
psychiatrist. (pause) Alright, well,
I’ll give you the backstory. You
might want to get a snack. So, last
March. I was a sophomore, and
this whole high school thing? Trust
me when I tell you that I despised
all of it. The people, the lunches,
the drama. But home wasn’t much
better. I’ve always been really
smart. Practically a quantum
computer, and my two brothers
were jealous of this, which led to
my being bullied by my own family.
So, no friends at school, and
treated like crap at home, I guess I
was set up to be more prone to
fighting and self-harm. Then, I
guess it all came to a head on
March 2nd. You probably read
that. About me going to the rooftop
of the school and being ready to
jump? Yeah. I had a note, but
couldn’t think of anyone to give it
to. So, I’m standing up there, and
this guy I barely knew, Mark
Holmes, appears out of nowhere
and yanks me down. Of course, I
immediately punched him in the
face, but he stayed up there and
just kept talking, and after a couple
of hours, I felt better, and actually
started to like the guy. He asked
me to join his club which he called
the Mystery Club, which had
nothing to do with mysteries at all.
It was more like a hangout spot for
him and his friends. A boy named
Conan Doyle. He was British and
personality-wise he’s pretty
eccentric. Madman, actually. Julie
Paretsky, she was and still is the
delinquent of the group. And a girl
named George. I know, it’s weird.
But she’s great. She’s energetic
and very optimistic and able to see
the best in everyone. So that’s
how I got into that group. Now to
talk about why I was in the
hospital. It was a normal day at the
club, or what we call normal. We
had just left a party. Well more like
we were kicked out of a party.
Yeah, Julie had punched someone
because he was being rude. She
can be scary sometimes. But
anyway, that was the day George
started seeing this guy. His name
was Alex. He acted like a nice guy
around her, but I could tell he
wasn’t a good guy. I tried to warn
her. She didn’t believe me. Soon
enough, Alex confronted me in
private tried to fight me. Little did
he know that my history of self-
harm made me tolerant to pain
and my terrible upbringing made
me a great fighter. So, it didn’t end
well for him. Turns out because of
that little scuffle he started to
verbally abuse George, but she
still wouldn’t leave him. So, me,
Mark, and Julie decided to take
matters into our own hands. First,
we trashed his place. Put graffiti
on the walls. Destroyed his TV.
That was fun. After that I went to
George’s house to tell her about it.
I saw her on the edge of her
balcony. As soon as she saw me,
she jumped. I ran and caught her
hand as she was falling and tried
to pull her up. I used all my
strength to save her. She put her
hands on the ledge to pull herself
up, but by that point my arms were
done and when she pulled up, I fell
down. Right off the balcony! I
thought it was funny ending up
right where I started. It felt like
time was slowing down. I saw
George’s horrified expression as I
was falling. You know, I though
falling to your death would be
scary, but it was somehow
soothing knowing it was all over
and I was about to die. After I fell, I
was in a coma for two weeks. My
family is pretty much done with
me, but hey, I’m alive. Oh, that’s
the end of our session? Great. I
got somethings off my chest at
least. Well, got to go. The mystery
club is waiting. I heard Julie hit
someone with a bat.

Bitter Eulogy
Second Place Winner!
By: Zoe Marner, Ontario, Canada,
Age 17
Gender: Any (can be changed to
be delivered by a son)
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A daughter delivers
an honest eulogy at her father’s
funeral.

(A teen delivers a eulogy at a

podium in a packed church.)

Wow. A lot of people here today.

No pressure, right? (Pauses,
unfolds paper, takes deep breath.)
They say the worst things happen
to the best people, but I disagree.
My father was a great person, at
least to most of you. He told
stories and did impressions every
chance he got. I hated them. They
were never accurate anyway. His
impression of Daniel Day Lewis
doing Abraham Lincoln sounded
more like Al Pacino. Those of you
who were his students knew a
caring, dedicated, and hilarious
teacher. Sounds like a great guy.
It’s too bad I never got to meet
him. The man I knew was short-
tempered, distant and narcissistic.
The day I found out he was going
to die, I was unfazed. That’s bad, I
know. Sounds like a horrible thing
to say, but he didn’t love me. He’d
ignore me when I asked him
questions or shared my opinion. I
was his daughter; he was
supposed to care. His work
occupied all his time. I didn’t see
why it mattered so much, he was
just a teacher and they were just
students. I was the one who
deserved his time. I was the one
who deserved his care. I was his
daughter. As I watched him fade
away in a hospital bed I thought
for once, just once, I would have
his undivided attention. I didn’t.
Even in the last days of his life all
he could think about was you. His
bloody students. He wrote some of
you letters. They weren’t just any
fair-well letters though. He wrote
you to tell you what you meant to
him. I never got any letter. It’s
selfish really, I know, but I
deserved one. I did. I thought it
was okay, though. I thought he
would surely change in the end.
He was dying. Maybe things would
be different. He was going to tell
me that he loved me, and he
would mean it. He never did. I
read some of the letters he wrote,
one was to a boy named Jacob.
Maybe you are here today. My dad
told Jacob that he had made him
see the world in a different way.
Opened up his eyes, he said.
Shifted his perspective, he said.
My dad was a phony and a liar
and I hated him. As my father took
his last breath I cried, but I wasn’t
sad, I was angry. Where is my
letter? I deserved it, didn’t I? I was
his daughter! But he was dead.
You can all go on and mourn the
loss of a “great” man, but I knew
the real Albert Scott. He had you
all fooled. (Throws paper on
ground and leaves the podium.)

Girl Who Cried Wolf

Second Place Winner!
By: Amber Rothberg,
Massachusetts, USA Age 13
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teenager tells her
therapist about the day her sister
disappeared.
You ask me this every time, and
it’s been a year, so yeah. I guess
I’m ready to talk about it. (pause) I
think I’ve told you before about
how my sister, Katherine and I
would play pranks on each other.
Like, we would pretend we were
dying, or possessed or something.
It was really stupid…but you know,
we had fun with it. I would hear her
screaming in the kitchen, and I’d
run down and see her holding a
knife and covered in blood. I would
start screaming too, until I saw the
can of spaghetti sauce on the
counter and realize it was a joke,
and she would laugh so hard that
she would fall down. It was just a
thing we did, you know. But that
day was different. That day, we
had just gotten home from school
and our parents were still at work.
Katherine and I were in some sort
of fight. I don’t really remember
what is was about, probably
something dumb, like her
borrowing something and not
returning it. But anyway, I didn’t
feel like talking to her, so I went up
to my room to do homework. All of
a sudden, I started to hear
Katherine scream and yell my
name. I was annoyed because I
assumed that it was another one
of her pranks. She would always
prank me when I was mad at her,
so that I would laugh and forgive
her. But I wasn’t in the mood to
play her games…. and so I
ignored it. The screaming went on
for a while…and then it stopped.
That’s when I started to get
worried, so I went downstairs to
check on her, and…she was gone.
I never saw my sister again. I
guess I don’t have to tell you the
rest. You know. My parents know.
Everyone knows that my sister is
DEAD because of ME. Katherine
Rivers was the girl who cried wolf.
And I was the girl, who ignored her
cries.

Watch a video of this monologue

here.

Chores
Third Place Winner!
By: Austin Walker, Iowa, USA,
Age 14
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teenager
complains to a friend about
household chores.

I can’t come over tonight. It’s

garbage night. Which means that I
will be slaving away filling up the
yard debris bin and the recycling
container and dragging all the bins
to the curb. Yes, they make me do
all that. (pause) I know you don’t
have to. I have more chores than
any of my other friends. My dad
also makes me mow the lawn,
AND take care of the lawn mower,
which at first, I knew nothing
about. But he said that if it broke
down because it wasn’t properly
maintained, I would have to pay
for it. I spent three hours on
Google and YouTube figuring out
where the oil goes and how to
keep the blades clean. (pause) I
know you don’t have to do
anything like that! None of my
friends do! Last summer, I had to
help my dad build a fence while
you guys were at soccer camp,
and this weekend, he is forcing me
to stay home and help him stain
the deck. It’s like I’m a prisoner.
You know, like those guys who
used to have to break up rocks
when they were sent to jail?
(pause) Oh, I can’t complain to
him! It’s not worth it! He’ll go on for
an hour about how he is doing me
a favor by giving me responsibility
and teaching me how to be a man
and that one day, I will thank him.
Can you believe it? He thinks I’m
going to thank him for making me
do so many chores? He’s out of
his mind! (pause) Anyway, what
are you doing tonight? Video
games again? I’m jealous.

Pretty
Second Place Winner!
By: Jen P., Tulsa, Oklahoma, Age
15
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teenager
complains to a friend about
household chores.

You… you think I’m pretty?

Really? Wow. I haven’t heard that
in so long. I-I mean, of course, my
parents would always tell me I’m
pretty. But they’re supposed to.
When you hear it from them, it… it
doesn’t matter as much. And
sometimes you know you’re pretty,
so it doesn’t matter. Like if you
wear makeup, you know you look
good. It doesn’t matter as much.
But some days you don’t hear it.
And that matters. Some days you
think you look nice and no one
says anything. Or you put on your
favourite pair of jeans and nobody
notices. And you think, “do I
always look bad? Am I not pretty?”
That’s when a “you look nice”
seems to matter the most. I’ve
never been the victim of bullying.
No one’s ever told me I’m ugly.
Because, well, actually, no one…
cared enough to tell me I’m ugly.
No one sees me. Even if I was
pretty, how much does a pretty
face matter when it’s covered by a
sheet? A blanket of obscurity. A
pretty nothing. What do you think
is worse-being known as ugly, or
not being known at all?
Sometimes, I wonder why people
don’t say it more. Just a “you look
pretty” could change someone’s
day. Then I realize I don’t say it
very often. I don’t tell people
they’re pretty when they are. And
it’s weird, because it’s not like it
hurts to say that. It helps someone
else and you. You feel good by
making other people feel good.
But I guess people just can’t admit
that someone looks better than
they do. They don’t realize it, of
course. They just know it, deep
down, they don’t feel pretty. And if
they don’t feel pretty, why should
anyone else feel pretty? (sigh)
You’re very pretty.

Amnesia
Third Place Winner!
By: Jessica G., Age 16, Calgary,
Alberta
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A young woman tries
to help her sister regain her
memory.

I know it’s not your fault, but

Allison, it’s me. Your sister. Maybe
if I tell you about all the things we
did, and who we used to be
together, you’d remember. Yes?
Let’s try. I promise that my feelings
won’t be hurt if this doesn’t work,
but I have to try, okay? (pause)
Okay, when we were kids, we
always got into trouble together.
We used to sneak out of my
window when it was clearly past
our bedtime. We’d create
imaginary worlds, complicated
worlds, under the moon. One time,
we pretended to be in Atlantis,
beneath the sea. You were a
princess, and I was a talking slug.
If you remembered anything, you
might remember that, right?
Anyway, we always got caught,
and we always got in trouble, but
that didn’t stop us. (laughs…sees
that she doesn’t remember.) It’s
okay. Let me keep going. You and
I were very close…we’d tell each
other secrets and talk behind
Melanie’s back. She’s our other
sister. And if you regain your
memory, I hope you don’t
suddenly like her better than me.
(pause) We were a force to be
reckoned with when we were
together, we were partners, not a
hero and her sidekick. During the
summer we rode our matching
blue Schwinn bikes everywhere
and we’d try to hold hands while
riding. One time, we even planned
out how we would make a
business together. My favorite idea
was fashion design. You’d sew
and I would do the finance. Even
when we fought it wasn’t so bad,
because we loved each other, and
we couldn’t stay mad for too long.
Depending on the rare cases it did
last longer than a couple of days,
we would pause the fight so we
could still vent and talk. That’s
pretty funny isn’t it? You wrote me
a note on pink paper saying that
you HAD to tell me something, but
then we had to go back to being
mad at each other. (laughs) We
never should have fought in the
first place, and sometimes I wish
we could’ve paused the whole
world for a bit longer, so we
could’ve made more memories.
(pause) I’m sorry I went away to
University. I should have stayed
here in town, at least until you
were ready to leave too. Maybe
then, this wouldn’t have happened.
You wouldn’t have gotten into that
car with your friends that night
because I would have come to get
you. I should have been there for
you. Well, I’m here now, Allison.
And I’m not going anywhere. I’m
going to stay until you either
remember me, or you learn to love
me all over again. I’ll never be
mad at you again. You have my
word. Whether or not you ever
remember who we were, I will be
here. I’m your sister.

Struck by Lightning
First Place Winner!
By: Kennedy L., Columbus, OH,
USA, Age 17
Gender: Male or Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teen recounts
his/her experience of being hit by
lightning.

No, it’s not a tattoo, it’s a scar. It’s

lightning….yes, I’m serious….
well, it’s hard to describe, but I’ll
do my best. It was summer. Not
like tonight. It was one of those
summer nights when rage-filled
clouds obscured the sky and the
night birds and the cicadas were
silent. I had gone outside to bring
my bicycle in before it rained. In
the distance, I could hear the
familiar hush of the ocean.
Shhhhhh. And everything else was
quiet. I grabbed the handlebars of
my bike, and then came the roar. A
clap of thunder so loud it shook
the very ground beneath my feet.
What happened next felt instant
and slow motion all at once. I had
barely moved my bike, when the
BOOM came. A white-hot flash far
away and everywhere, and my
body in the air and then nothing.
And then lying on the grass, my
body like lead, my head splitting
with pain, and the sweet,
overpowering fragrance of grass.
My mother was screaming over
me, but she sounded far away. In
the hospital, they told me that I
had been struck by lightning. My
mother had seen it from the
kitchen window. Lightning broke
the sky outside and traveled along
the ground and through my
bicycle. I was lucky. They call it
‘fractal.’ A few more feet and I
would have died. I still have
headaches, and I cannot hear in
my left ear. And this scar? At first it
was blisters. A white-hot searing
that bled and pussed and crusted
over. And now it’s this. This
beautiful pattern like a willow
branch. Forever trying to reach the
ground, and not quite making it. It
will never go away. And to be
honest, I don’t want it to. My eyes
are open now…to the richness…
and also the impermanence of life.
I am here. With you. On this warm
summer evening. The night birds
are singing and the cicadas are
humming along. (Looks down at
arm.) It’s a wonderful scar, don’t
you think?

Cat Lady
Third Place Winner!
By: Niesha M., Fort Worth, Texas,
USA, Age 12
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic
Description: A wife tells her
husband about a stray cat she’s
taken in.

I should probably tell you now,

before you notice it. And I need to
point out that in no way did I
encourage this. I was just minding
my own business. And there’s no
way I’m going to get rid of it today
(under breath) or maybe ever.
What? Nothing. What I mean to
say is that I will do my best to find
her a home as soon as possible.
(Reacting to yelling.) I know! I
know, but it’s not my fault. I was
out in the garage taking off my
boots, and she just wandered in.
So skinny. And she was meowing
like she was hungry, so I just gave
her a tiny bit of food. You should
have seen how fast she ate it up!
So, I might have given her a little
more. She doesn’t have a collar,
and honestly, I don’t think she
belongs to anybody. But I will look
online and see if someone is
missing an adorable little black
and white cat. Oh, oh, here she
comes. Look at how friendly she
is! Martin, I’ve never seen a cat so
friendly. I know, I know. We aren’t
going to keep her. Just pick her
up, will you? She loves being held.
So unusual for a cat…I said, I
know that we aren’t going to keep
her…of course, I realize that we
already have sixteen cats. But
she’s so cute…and really…
(flirting) what’s one more?

Jealous? I’m not

Jealous.
First Place Winner
By: Lyena Monis, Age 12,
California, USA
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic
Description: A jealous girlfriend
expresses her views on her
relationship with her boyfriend.

You know, my boyfriend tells me

I’m an (does air quotes with
fingers) “overprotective and
jealous” girlfriend, but he just
doesn’t understand. It’s a
girlfriend’s job to watch out for girls
who want to steal him away. The
other day I saw him hugging
another girl. When I confronted
him, he said it was his mom.
Excuses, excuses. I didn’t talk to
him for a week after that incident. I
just trying to protect him, you
know. He interacts with so many
girls, you never know who may be
eyeing him. I even quit my job just
so I could keep my eye on him. He
often pleads with me to trust him
and whatever, but that always
leads to arguments. Another time,
I hacked his phone and looked
through his mail and messages.
He’d been talking to so many girls!
Someone named Jenny and
another named Mrs. Switzer. An
older woman! He claimed that
Jenny was his science partner and
that Mrs. Switzer was his piano
teacher. Yeah, right. How could he
do this to me? When he caught
me looking through his phone, he
was a little mad, and he explained
that just because he’s talking to
women, doesn’t mean he’s
cheating on me. Then, he said the
next time that I do something like
that, he’ll break up with me. He
just doesn’t understand what a
good girlfriend I am. I’m just being
there to ward off any girls who
want to take my man. Right now,
I’m hiding behind a bush, keeping
my protective watch on him. Wait,
here comes a girl. Gotta go!

Coming Out
Second Place Winner
By: Jessie Stevenson, Age 13,
California. USA
Gender: Female, but can be
changed
Genre: Comedic
Description: A teen girl comes out
to her family in a comedic way.

Hey parentals, siblings, comrades.

How are you? How’s your day? I
hope it’s been good. Thank you all
for being here. Well I think it’s safe
to assume that I have something
to tell you all. I am…. Not…
exactly…. Straight. Yup. I like not
just boys but also girls. So yeah….
I know it may be a shock to some
of you and others might have
guessed it but yeah. If you want to
ask if it’s a phase or a fad. No, it is
not. If this new information is a
shock to you, I have one question.
HOW? I mean seriously how did
you not see this coming, look at
me. How did you not question it
when I cut my hair super short, or
when I would talk about LGBTQ+
issues which was… A LOT. Or
when I put a giant pink triangle on
the door to my room, or when I
bought a rainbow bow tie and
suspenders? I mean c’mon
people. Well now you know. If you
can’t accept me, then that’s your
issue. It took a lot for me to come
to terms and accept myself and
I’m going to be myself no matter
what anyone thinks. Questions?
Nope. Didn’t think so. So, whew.
That’s over. Who’s up for pizza?

Fearless?
First Place Winner
By: Lilly Johnson, Age 13,
Missouri, USA
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teenage surfer
narrowly escapes a shark attack
and it changes her view of the
ocean forever.

You’re scared of the ocean? Yeah,

I understand that. The ocean
seems scary to many, even
dangerous. People fear of
drowning or being attacked by
creatures from below. But this
does not apply to me. I’m as
fearless as it gets when it comes
to water. Or, at least I was. There
are some things that I’ve seen
happen in the ocean that would
normally scar you for life. I’ve
heard about shark attacks, but
they never really scared me…
didn’t seem real. Until one day last
summer. The morning sky was
clear, not a cloud could be seen
for miles. The sun had already
risen, its heat overbearing. Seeing
the waves reach all the way out
from the deep to the shore, I
couldn’t help but think of what a
perfect day it would be for surfing.
I grabbed my surfboard and broke
into a sprint across the beach; I
could feel the ocean spray before I
reached the water. I waded
through the water, trying to keep
from being pushed back by the
rising waves. After about two
minutes, the water was above my
waist. Right about that time,
unfortunately, a huge wage was
forming, and was starting to come
my way. I grabbed my board and
tried to pull myself onto it, but it
was too late. I opened my eyes,
only for the saltwater to flood
them. Now, some people would
have panicked, but that’s not who I
am. As I attempted to swim up, a
huge object pushed against me,
sending me farther down. I looked
around. What I saw was terrifying.
A shark, at least fifteen feet long,
was staring at me the way a barn
owl stares at a mouse. With all my
might, I swam upward. It seemed
like forever until I reached the
surface and swam towards the
shore. I used to brag about being
fearless, but I can’t imagine what
would have happened if I didn’t get
scared that day. Being scared
saved my life. Yeah, I’ll admit it.
I’m a little scared of the ocean now
too.

Hey, I Miss You

Second Place Winner
By: Karina Robles Leyva, Age 14,
California, USA
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: Caroline writes a
letter to an old friend.

Actor finishes writing the letter,

then begins to read it. Soon after,
she puts the letter down, and
continues as if she were really
talking to her friend.

Dear Mya,

We haven’t talked in a long while.

The last time we texted was when
you sent me a message wishing
me a Happy Birthday. Thanks for
remembering. The day you left we
said we’d text every day. And we
did, for a while. I still have all the
gifts you gave me, the fluff ball, the
coloring page, the paintings, and
that terrible ceramic dog that sort
of resembles mine. Do you still
have everything I gave you?
Probably not, maybe you threw
those away a long time ago.
Remember when you first came to
visit? I didn’t talk when we first
met, I felt weird with strangers in
my house. It was the day before
Valentine’s Day, and we were
making chocolate dipped
strawberries when we invited your
family over. Then you made me
laugh and after that you always
came back. You were my first
friend you know? When you
moved in next door, I was so
happy. I used to be sort of an
outcast and suddenly I had my first
best friend! That’s why it hurt so
much when you moved away. We
used to know everything about
each other. I miss those days.
After you left, I never asked how
your new friends were, or how
your new school was because I
didn’t know what to say. Now I’m
here reminiscing and missing the
times when we went to get frozen
yogurt daily. Wishing for those
times when you came over and we
became like sisters. To be honest,
I don’t really remember why you
left, I think it was because your
mother had to go somewhere for a
better job. I don’t really remember
why, just that you were next to me
crying, red faced when you told
me you were going away. And
how’s your father? Do you know? I
know him being in jail far away
from you must be hard. I don’t
think you’ve visited him in a while.
I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for
many things. I’m sorry I never
texted you enough, I’m sorry that
you left, I’m sorry, and I still miss
you. We haven’t talked in a long
while, and I thought about not
sending this, but we swore to be
friends for life, and I am keeping
my promise. I’m here, if you need
me…and I need you.

Love,
Caroline

Babysitter’s Rules
First Place Winner
By: Jazarae Robinson, Age 12,
Ohio, USA
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic
Description: Babysitter is not who
Mom thinks she is.

Don’t worry, Linda. I will take great

care of your kids. I have lots of
experience with kids, so I know
what to do when they misbehave.
Bye.
(Turns to kids after Linda leaves)
Now listen, you little brats! I am
the boss here, so you will do
everything I ask you to do exactly
when I say it. Here are the rules:
Rule #1 You don’t question, you
just do it.
Rule #2 Never tell your mom
anything that I do. Always tell her
I’m the best babysitter. You
wouldn’t want me to lose my job,
would you?
Rule #3 You eat what I make, or
you don’t eat at all.
Rule #4 If I have company do not
talk to them and go into the
basement.
Rule #5 If I make a mess, you
clean it. I’m your guest, not the
other way around.
Rule #6 No crying allowed.
Ok, those are the rules. Go have
fun! (rolls eyes and whispers) Little
brats.

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

The Darkness
Second Place Winner
By: Yulianis Pesante Quinones,
Age 14, Virginia, USA
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teen reflects on
the concept of darkness.

I wish I was scared of the dark. I

mean most people are, but I
always find comfort sitting in it. Get
home, shower, lay in bed. Don’t
turn the lights on. My daily routine.
Sit in the dark and listen to music.
A vampire. That’s what my mom
calls me. It’s not that I don’t like
the light, you just think differently
in the dark. You find comfort in it
like a big black blanket wrapped
around you. You just let go not
knowing what could happen. Your
mind travels to so many places
and everything’s fine. Until you
realize you’re alone. The feeling of
loneliness hits you. You have no
one to talk to. Everyone’s asleep.
You’ve thought so much that the
big black blanket is now
suffocating you. So, tell me is the
darkness safe or dangerous?

No Feeling
Third Place Winner
By: Ryan Dosa, Age 16, Colorado,
USA
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: Character is
numbing themselves by using
drugs. They are telling their friend
who wants to help what they feel
and why they still; continue to use
drugs.

I don’t think you get it, one day I

can feel like I have the world but
the next everything can change,
it’s as if you have had everything
one day but then have nothing.
This is the most heart-wrenching
feeling in the world I can feel all
my happiness fall into the black pit
that lives inside. As my entire body
becomes numb all I am able to
process is the never-ending
question of why. People forget
who I am and don’t recognize me
anymore for I have “changed”. I no
longer have the right to feel sad,
the sadness has been stripped
from me leaving me open, I’m
empty, I have no emotions, no
love, no feeling, and no reason.
But as everyone says it’s all okay
because I can still throw on a
smile, and the one thing that
makes this all go away are the
drugs.

The Mall
By: Carley B., Age 11, Ohio, USA
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic
Description: A teen girl has a
frustrating day at the mall.

Omg, I had the worst day at the

mall today. I went into Pink, right?
The first store of the day. I tried on
the cutest things. Girls, you know
how most of the time things don’t
fit right, and you leave with two
things out of ten? Not today!
Everything I tried on fit perfectly! I
went up to the counter to pay. The
line was soooo long! Like I’m not
even joking, it was all the way
back to the clearance racks! She
had everything rung out and
everything was going great, until I
reached into my purse to grab my
credit card and it wasn’t there! I
didn’t know what to do! I panicked
and left all those sweet clothes on
the counter. I just decided to leave
and go to my car. I opened the
door and guess what? My card
was sitting right there! On my seat!

They Won’t See it

Coming
By: Amelia M., Age 12, Ohio, USA
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic
Description: Kid is jealous of
older brother who gets more
screen time.

I hate my brother, period. Yes, yes,

I know. “Hate” is a strong word, but
I mean it. Trust me on this one.
The only thing that understands
me is the virtual world, and my
family tries to take that from me.
They say it is an addiction and that
I am in denial. Yeah, no. My family
has limited me to an hour on the
computer a day, and that’s
definitely not okay. My brother gets
the whole day on the internet. He
has completely taken over the
family computer. He even gets
away with rubbing it in my face.
Favorites much? I am putting my
foot down, and I have decided I
will take over the family computer.
I will snatch it and all of its
accessories and I’ll barricade
myself in my room! Sounds
foolproof, right? I will strike at
midnight, and they won’t see it
coming. Wait…I think that is my
mom now! Act casual.

Selfish Samaritan
First Place Winner
By: Hannah Chaffin, Age 16
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A conceited high
school girl who volunteers to visit a
disabled boy, is called out for
actually being selfish and
egotistical.

Yeah, we’ve all heard it, Penelope.

How great you are for helping out
that disabled boy. Give it a rest.
Honestly, I don’t think you’re doing
it for him; you’re doing it for
yourself. You must feel such a
thrill, having him watch you like
you’re some kind of savior. I’d
guess you like to feel that way;
some kind of all holy, selfless
being. But in my opinion, you’re
the most selfish person I know.
You walk around thinking you are
a one of a kind, holy mastermind.
Plenty of people volunteer, and the
good ones, the really good ones
don’t yak on and on about it. You
like to believe that people think
you’re a little miss pink perfect
cake pop doll, but you’re not that.
Hard to hear ain’t it. That you
mean far less than little to
someone, someone who doesn’t
kiss the earth below you. He
doesn’t need you. You could die
today and he’d still breathe the
same, suffer the same. You aren’t
his medication, so stop acting like
some prized jewel that can’t
shatter to the ground. Test me one
more time Penelope. You’ll see,
one day, you’ll be nothing more
than another grain of sand in the
ocean of nobodies.

The Dancer
Second Place Winner
By: Mina T., New York, NY, Age 13
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: An elderly woman
tells a young artist to pursue her
dreams and shares the story of
her broken dreams.

Oh, what did I do? Funny

question, you see I was a dancer.
Once upon a time, that is. Right
here on this bench, as you watch
me feed these hungry little
pigeons, I want to change your life,
by sharing mine with you. When I
was your age, I loved to dance. I
wore silky dresses and flirted with
the gentlemen, but mostly I
danced. I would never stop, and I
couldn’t, I thought. One gloomy
day, my dad came to visit. Now, he
only came to visit when he meant
serious business. He sat me down
on the couch. He said, “Sweetie
I’ve enrolled you in college. You’re
going to major in accounting.” I
was petrified; I mean my lifelong
dreams could be ruined, but In the
weirdest way I felt some type of
relief. I didn’t understand what I
was feeling, I loved dancing, but I
was always told that I would never
make it. I agreed to go. I was only
18 at the time. That first day, when
I walked into the school, I looked
around and I realized I didn’t
belong there. I’d made the wrong
decision. And then, I spent fifty
years wishing I had had the
courage to say no. Dancing
brought me so much joy! Leaping
in the air, I had the feeling that I
could do anything in the world.
Now, I’m 95 and I can hardly walk.
I’m never going to be a dancer; I’m
never going to do the only thing
that I was meant to do. I regret the
decision I made. I could blame it
on my father, but it was me who
took away the only thing I loved,
the only thing that truly made me
happy. Sweetie, don’t waste your
life as I did. Be an artist. Live the
life you are meant to live.

English Class
Third Place Winner
By: Justin Kyzar, Mississippi,
USA, Age 15
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic
Description: A frustrated teacher
deals with a rowdy class.

Alright class! Listen up! Because

of last weeks’ “events,” we are
going to try this again. Everyone
get out your pencils. And no
throwing them this time! Jane, put
that cell phone away! I will not
hesitate to take it! Shawn, stop
trying to light Cindy’s hair on fire!
There is barely any left from last
time! Jason! Don’t you dare throw
that chair out the window!
Jaaasssooon… Jason! Ugh! you
guys are worse today than
yesterday, and now I have to
replace that window! I am calling
the principal! (picks up phone)
Hello Mr. Sanchez? We need you
in the fifth-grade classroom. What
do you mean you are busy?
There’s no way those
kindergartners are worse than
these kids. oh…oh… They did
that? Oh well, I hope Mrs. Smith
recovers. Those kindergartners
should be ashamed for doing that
to her. Well, stay safe, and I hope
the pencil wound in your arm
heals. (hangs up) Okay class, new
test! We are going to see how
good you are at finding a new
teacher because I quit! I am going
to be a janitor! I rather clean up
other people’s messes than teach
you! Adios!

Me, Myself and I

By: Cecily W., New York, NY, Age
13
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A young girl tells her
mother that she doesn’t want to be
famous anymore.

Mom, there’s something I need to

tell you. It’s, it’s hard for me to say.
The last thing I want to do is
disappoint you. You’re so kind and
supportive of me. I love you so
much. I’m, I’m just going to say it.
No matter how hard it is for me to
admit, because I love my life. But
hon-hon-honestly sometimes wish
I wasn’t famous! Acting is an
amazing thing. Most people would
love to be me. It just tires me out
so much. Starting at seven– I don’t
think that was meant to be my
path. I had an idea when I was
younger, and you were amazing to
let me follow it. But I was seven! I
didn’t know all of the pressure that
it would be. Again, the last thing I
want to do is disappoint you.
You’re my role model, my hero, my
everything. Sometimes I’m scared
I won’t be enough like you when I
grow up. It’s just that I feel so
insecure and overwhelmed.
People always stopping and
staring. Taking pictures of me,
invading my privacy. Not feeling
comfortable in my own skin. I just
want me, myself and I. Not
surrounded by paparazzi and
obsessive fans. Sometimes I just
wish for a normal life! I know that
sounds selfish, I mean, I have
everything. Money, designer
clothes, loving family. I shouldn’t
ask for more. But, I’m technically
asking for less. I love all the fun
trips and traveling, and this loving
and kind family, I just don’t think a
sixteen-year-old should be held to
such high expectations. I love you.
Thank you for always being there
for me. I hope you understand.

A Mother’s Wishes
By: Annelise M., New York, NY,
Age 12
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A mother tells her
teenage daughters to stay in
school and to not make the same
mistakes she did.

No, no, no, no, I am not going to

let the two of you drop out of
school! Trust me, I’m not trying to
convince you school is fun and all
that other stuff, but that is no
excuse to drop out. I know
because I was once in that
situation and went down the wrong
path. When I was young, I had this
dream about how my life would be,
my ideal perfect life, two kids, a
husband, a house. I would be rich
and have my dream job. I wanted
to lie in the grass in my backyard
and give my kids advice and teach
them life lessons. But it’s not that
simple and dropping out isn’t the
solution. One day 16 years ago I
went into the doctor’s office and
walked out with the news that I
was having twins. It was an
accident from a boy in school that I
didn’t really know very well. I
decided it would be better if he
didn’t know. My first reaction was
excitement and pure joy but didn’t
last long when I realized all the
problems and complications. I was
scared to take on such a big role.
This one change in my life would
have a ripple effect on my life
forever. Because in the months
that followed I, I dropped out of
school to take care of you. Until
you moved away, I knew I would
have to take care of you alone. All
of the financial issues fell on me
and it was very overwhelming. My
parents did not take the news well
at the time, and they didn’t really
help. They told me to give you
away, but I refused. Don’t follow in
my footsteps and drop out
because I did it. It derailed my life
and yours. You both should get
back to school and when you guys
have left home, I will too. We can
all have a new beginning.

Outside
By: Eleanor H., New York, NY,
Age 12
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A young girl seeks
help from a therapist about her
fear of going outside.

I know why my mom asked you to

come. I have a problem. Every
time I want to go outside, I think
about how the outside world is
scary. The loud cars, big trucks,
the constant noise surrounding
me, the germs, the animals… the
people. I really want to go outside.
I have dreams about leaving this
small apartment and I long to walk
around the city and see things,
learn in a school and not be
homeschooled. Go to a park and
have normal experiences but …I
can’t. Every time I think about
leaving, my heart races 100 miles
an hour, my palms get sweaty, I
get dizzy, and I picture the
accident that left me without an
arm … The one moment that
changed my life forever. Everyone
tells me I’ll be fine. But how do I
know for sure? I could get hit by a
car, robbed, kidnapped, attacked
by an animal, or contract a
disease. I have spent my whole
life living in this house. I was even
born in here, I know it’s safe.
That’s why I have a special
connection to this house. I am
tired of being cooped up, but I
can’t help it. I just want to be a
normal kid. Can you… can you
help me?

Watch a video of this monologue

here.

I Remember
First Place Winner
By: Karina S., Baton Rouge,
Lousiana, USA, Age 15
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A daughter
remembers things about her
mother who passed away.

Oh yes, I remember her. The way

her hair smelled like cinnamon and
every time she bent down to pick
me up, it brushed against my face.
I remember the way she laughed
often and easily, her voice a chime
of happiness. I remember that she
seemed to always be awake. She
wasn’t one of those moms who
liked to sleep in late and have
breakfast in bed. One night, I woke
up in the middle of the night and
went to the kitchen to get a glass
of water. There she was, a cup of
tea in her slender hands, staring at
the moon. I watched her in silence
for a moment. She was so still. As
if she were contemplating
something. I had the
overwhelming feeling that I didn’t
really know my mother at all. But
then, she saw me. “What are you
doing, mommy?” I asked. She
snapped out of her trance. “Just
looking at the moon, June Bug. Do
you need a glass of water?” She
always knew what I needed. She
was just that way. People are
amazed that I remember so much
about my mother, because the
cancer took her when I was only
five. I think her love for me
pressed those memories into my
heart and mind forever. I
remember her telling me, right
before she died, that she will
always be with me, watching over
me like the moon. Oh yes, I
remember her. I remember.

Spritey O’Doodle
Second Place Winner
By: Cameron F., El Paso, TX,
USA, Age 13
Gender: Male
Genre: Comedic (In an Irish
accent.)
Description: A leprechaun
outsmarts someone who has
found his pot of gold.

Listen, ye squirrely would-be

crook…it dunnot work the way ya
think. Da. I am a leprechaun, and
indeed, we stand at the end of my
rainbow with da pot ‘o gold right
about here. What they dunnot tell
ye is that my gold is buried deep
below. Ya think that I would work
away, makin’ shoes and boots for
all da rich uns, just to let a theivin’
scud the likes of ye, come long
and snatch me riches? Too bad for
you, I’m Spritey O’Doodle. I’m no
eejit. I’m the smartest of all da
leprechauns. And you can go get a
shovel. Ya have da right to dig for
me treasure. But by the time ye
return, who knows where me and
me rainbow have buggered off ta.
(Laughs.) Ye humans are bleedin’
thick! So, run along, ya gombeen.
I’ve me work to do!

(The leprechaun goes back to his

work making shoes and sings this
song.)

“Lay your ear close to the hill.

Do you not catch the tiny clamour,
Busy click of an elfin hammer,
Voice of the Lepracaun singing
shrill
As he merrily plies his trade.”

You’re Melting
First Place Winner
By: Amber Leanne Rothberg, Age
12, Massachusetts, USA
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A friend consoles
another friend after a death.

Do you ever think about how being

alive, and actually living, are two
completely different things? Well,
they may sound like the same
thing to you. But trust me, what
you’re doing now Ray, it’s not
living. Yes, you are alive, but
sitting around in your house all
day, starring at a tv, you’re not
experiencing anything except for
“what’s next on Fuller House!” You
need to wake up from your fantasy
world Ray. You know, I miss her
too. I miss her SO much. It’s the
good times that hurt to think about.
Like when our families used to go
to the beach together. And you,
Lila and I would have sandcastle
competitions. Or feed the seagulls,
even though we knew we weren’t
supposed to, we didn’t care. When
the lifeguards yelled, we would just
nod and laugh it off. It’s okay to
have memories Ray, but you can’t
live inside of them. Sometimes you
have to move on. And this is one
of those times. Lila had her turn to
live, and then she had her turn to
melt. Everyone melts eventually.
We will too. And when we do, we
will see Lila again. But right now,
it’s our time to live, and not our
time to melt yet. But that’s what
you’re doing Ray. Your melting.
And you can’t melt because…
because I need you. You can’t live
a life, if you’re not willing to live it.
You can’t just sit around all day
and wait for things to get better.
Nothing is ever going to chance
unless you change it. And you
need to try. I promise you…the
moment you decide to get up out
of your chair and take a walk or go
to lunch with your friends that you
haven’t seen in ages, then you will
feel better. I’m not asking you to
forget about Lila, because that’s
not possible. All I’m asking is that
you try to live a life without her.
And accept that she’s gone, and
that she’s not coming back. You
just need to live in your current
reality and in the moment.
Because these moments are all
that you have.

You may see a video of Amber

performing her monologue here!

Homeless Goldilocks
First Place Winner
By: Anastasia G., Vancouver, BC,
Age 13
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedy
Description: Goldilocks defends
her reputation.

Yeah, I know. I know. You

recognize me. “Aren’t you that
blonde girl who trashed the Bear’s
house?” Listen, I hear it all the
time. That was a pretty low point
for me, I gotta admit. But look, you
really shouldn’t make fun of the
homeless. And technically, I’m not
homeless. Never have been. I
think of myself as more of an
adventurer. Sure, I could get a job
and rent a dumpy little apartment,
but what would be the fun in that?
Since the bear’s house, I’ve
stayed in some of the finest places
in the world! One time, I went on a
tour of the White House, and hid
behind the curtains in the Oval
office. I stayed up all night reading
classified documents. They’re a lot
more boring than they sound.
Another time, I crashed at
Buckingham palace while the
Queen was out doing some
Queenly stuff. I tried on all her
crowns. She may or may not be
missing one. My favorite place
was Santa’s workshop. Yeah, I
know. Everyone thinks that those
elves never take a vacation. But a
snowman told me that’s not true. I
got him to tell me the dates…cost
me a carrot and I headed on up
there. Seven days of playing with
whatever I wanted and eating
cookies and milk for every meal…
now that’s a vacation! So, don’t be
hating on homeless Goldilocks. I’m
livin’ the good life. And remember,
if you have something cool inside
your house, remember to lock up
when you leave!

Big Girls Get Dates

Too!
By: Saturn Davis, Atlanta,
Georgia, USA, Age 17
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedy
Description: A heavy girl gets
asked to the homecoming dance
by the finest boy in school.

Ma! Ma! I’ve got a date. I’ve got a

date. And do you know the best
part? All the skinny pretty girls at
school like him! (Singing) But he is
mine, he is mine. Oh, did I
mention…he is fine, he is fine. Oh,
you should have seen their faces
when Frankie asked me to the
homecoming dance. They were all
standing by their lockers: Missy,
Claire and Prissy. And all of a
sudden, Frankie just walked up.
He was still in his football uniform.
Man! I love a guy in uniform. And
he’s carrying his helmet too. Uh!
He’s so strong! And right there in
the hallway he says, “Saturn, I
have something to ask you, but it’s
kind of hard so, I wrote it on my
helmet.” So, in the middle of the
hall, he gives me his helmet.
Missy, Claire and Prissy were
about to die, then he goes
(kneeling on one knee) “Saturn will
you go to the homecoming dance
with me?” It was so cute!
So, of course I said “yes,” and
when he gave me his ring and his
helmet hit me on the head. I have
five stitches. It was so romantic
ma! He’s coming to pick me up
this weekend in his Camaro. I
can’t wait! I just hope he doesn’t
bring his helmet.

Lights Out
By: Alexander S., Los Angeles,
CA, Age 15
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A person discovers a
love of reading during a power
outage.

The scene opens with the actor

pantomiming playing a video
game. He/she talks on a headset.

There he is! Ha! Gotcha!… Hurry

up! There’s another one! …Pick
that up, we’ll need it later…
(Suddenly surprised. The
controller stops working and the
screen is black.) What the heck?
(Taps headset.) Hello? (Looks
around.) …Oh man. The power is
out. I gotta find my flashlight.
(Fumbles around in near
darkness.) Here it is. Great dead
batteries. I think we have some
candles. (Moves as if in the dark,
opens a drawer. Finds a candle.
Lights it.) There. That’s better.
(Looks around the room.) Now
what? Maybe I’ll just watch some
TV. Oh yeah… Microwave some
popcorn? …Nope. Oh my God, I
might starve. …Keep your cool,
Chris. Mom and dad will be home
soon. Okay, okay. People used to
live without power all the time.
Jeez. How did they do that? I’m
not going to starve, I’m going to
die of boredom first. Let’s see…
let’s see (looking around). Oh,
there’s that book I’m supposed to
read for English class. Homework.
Great. (Sits down, opens book and
begins reading.) It was a special
pleasure to see things eaten, to
see things blackened and
changed. With the brass nozzle in
his fists, with this great python
spitting its venomous kerosene
upon the world, the blood pounded
in his head, and his hands were
the hands of some amazing
conductor playing all the
symphonies of blazing and burning
to bring down the tatters and
charcoal ruins of history. With his
symbolic helmet numbered 451 on
his stolid head, and his eyes all
orange flame with the thought of
what came next, he flicked the
igniter and the house jumped up in
a gorging fire that burned the
evening sky red and yellow and
black. (The lights come back on!)
Cool! The power’s back! (Starts to
get up. Hesitates.) I might just
read a little bit more. (Opens book
and begins reading again.) He
strode in a swarm of fireflies. He
wanted above all, like the old joke,
to shove a marshmallow on a stick
in the furnace, while the flapping
pigeon-winged books died on the
porch and lawnof the house. While
the books went up in sparkling
whirls and blew away on a wind
turned dark with burning.

Whippin Boy
By: Carl S., Memphis, TN, Age 17
Gender: Male
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teenager plans an
escape from an abusive father.

Never in my life have I deserved a

whippin.’ But don’t tell that to my
Pa. He can tell ya there’s lots a
reasons. I talk too loud. I don’t talk
at all. I took too long walkin’ the
dog. I didn’t walk ‘im long enough.
I left my backpack on the floor. I
put it on my bed. Yeah, there’s all
kinds of ‘scuses for whippin’ me.
Happens mostly when he comes
home late, stinkin’ of whiskey
bottles and ashtrays. I hear his
truck roll up, and the crunch of
gravel under his feet. My stomach
goes all turvy and I try to keep
quiet and to myself. But he finds
me. Red eyed and close-fisted, he
finds me alright. Sometimes I
wonder why he ever had a kid.
Other times, I think he had a kid
cause he likes whippin.’ Whatever
the reason, I’m makin’ plans. I got
my own plans. Got a two hunderd
and five dollars so far. When I get
to four hunderd, I’m headin’ north.
I’m takin’ Trout. That’s my dog. I
can’t leave without ‘im. There’s
this thing called emancipation. I
gotta be 16, and that’s in seven
months. Even if he tracks me
down, he got no rights. But he ain’t
gonna track me down. Too much
trouble. Good riddance, he’ll say.
And I’m gonna be okay. I know it in
my bones. I don’t carry no hate
around like a bag a rocks. We’ll
have a good life, me and Trout.
And one day, I’ll have me a kid,
and I will love him, and always
treat him good. The young ones
ain’t no real trouble. They made of
love. Unless ya whip it outta ‘em. I
still got love left. I got plenty of
love left.

Lovestruck
By: Josie C., Albuquerque, NM,
Age 14
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: Cupid aims his arrow
at the wrong person.

Oh, no you don’t! Don’t you be

pointing that thing at me! I am
done with love. Go find someone
else you can trick into going all
mushy and stupid only to have his
heart torn out and smashed like a
wine glass at a Jewish wedding.
Ugh. Why did I even say
wedding?! Love is like getting a
puppy. At first, it’s like heaven
opened up and sent you this thing,
this incredible, furry, loveable
thing. And two years later, it gets
run over and your parents try to
tell you that he ran away, but you
heard them talking about how nice
the man was to come tell you. He
wasn’t nice. HE WASN’T NICE! He
killed my dog! And now I wish that
I never had a dog in the first place.
Love is like that. Happiness, that
ends up dead on the side of the
road. So, kindly point your arrow in
another direction. Find someone
else to rip their heart to shreds.

Goddess
By: Matilda T., West Gosford,
NSW, Australia, Age 8
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic
Description: The Goddess
Persephone tells of her life with
her beloved Hades in the
underworld.

Chairete! That’s the Greek word

for hello, for your information. I am
a Greek goddess named
Persephone. Oh, you think your
life is tough, doing your homework,
going to school, cleaning your
room. Well, welcome to my world.
I have to live in the Under World
for six months of the year as,
um… Queen of the Dead! My
mother is the Goddess of Harvest,
so she makes all the flowers grow
and that sort of thing. I’m living in
dirt, surrounded by dead people!
At least I have the King of the
Dead for company. When I come
back above ground, I transform
into the Goddess of Spring.
Wanna hear my story? Once upon
a time, when there was only
Spring and Summer, my father,
Zeus, King of the Living, thought I
should have a husband. So, he
sent his brother Hades to marry
me. That’s right, I married my
Uncle. A little bit gross. So… just
to recap, I, Persephone the
Goddess of Spring, married my
Uncle Hades, the God of the
Underworld. Then he took me to
his Underworld, which meant
everything stopped growing on the
top of the ground. Yep, no more
pleasant Spring weather for
everyone to enjoy.
So, turns out my mum wasn’t so
happy about all of this, and she
went looking the whole world over
for me. Meantime, Hades, my new
husband, persuaded me to eat six
pomegranate seeds. Just six little
seeds. What a mistake that turned
out to be! So then… wait, are you
listening? Great… It’s just that I
have not spoken to anyone in
ages. Right now, I want all ears
please… there was a prophesy –
that means a prediction by the
Gods – that if anybody ate
anything from the Underworld,
they would have to stay there.
Now I never knew this, so here I
am warning you after all this
happened. So, my mum and I
finally found one another again…
and she asked me if I had eaten
anything and I said, “Just six
pomegranate seeds.” Then she
said “No! Persephone you have
been tricked! Darling, listen to me.
You now have to stay there for six
months of the year.” But the thing
is, I love Hades. Sure, he might be
a King of the Underworld and the
pomegranate trick was a bit
wicked, but we seem to be a
perfect match! Anyway, back to
the seasons. So now- when I go to
see my wonderful Hades, my
mother stops letting plants grow
and becomes Winter, because she
is so sad I am going. So that is my
story, and also the story of how we
have the seasons. Ya Sah! That
means goodbye. It’s all Greek to
me!

Mind Reader
By: Thalia O., Lakewood, CA,
USA, Age 16
Gender: Male or Female
Genre: Comedy
Description: A teen shows off an
ability to read minds.

Okay I know this might sound

crazy but just hear me out. You
see the thing is… OK don’t freak
out but, I can read your mind! Ahh
I know crazy right. Like seriously I
don’t know how this happened, it
just did I guess. Oh my gosh…
ughh I know what you’re thinking.
Man, I knew this would happen,
you think I’m going insane aren’t
you? OK you do you know that I
just told you I can read your mind
so basically, I know what you’re
thinking, as in I know you’re
thinking I’m a total lunatic but I’m
not, trust me. I can totally prove it
to you, but then that means I’ll
have to read what you’re thinking
out loud and I wouldn’t want to
expose you like that, but then
again, you’re asking for it. Like
seriously, don’t try me because I
will do it. (Pause) All right don’t
say I didn’t warn you. Basically, I
know you have a crush on me. Ha!
You didn’t expect that did you…
Yeah, I didn’t either. It explains a
lot actually. Like seriously, no
wonder you’re always so clingy, no
offense. Anyways I’m truly
flattered but I mean, it ain’t going
to happen.

I Hate Performing
By: Amber D., West Gosford,
NSW, Australia, Age 14
Gender: Male or Female
Genre: Comedic
Description: A student describes
their day at school.

(Pacing back and forth.) Oh, why

did I even sign up for this class? I
didn’t know we’d have to practice
auditioning. It’s not fair. Everybody
will be looking at me, judging me.
If I do one thing wrong everybody
is going to notice, and laugh at
me, and I’m going to be so
embarrassed. The lights will be
beaming in my eyes and my hands
will start shaking like crazy. My
throat will get really dry and I’ll
stutter like there’s no tomorrow. I’ll
fidget and play with my hair. I’m so
nervous, what if I suck? What if I’m
horrible? What if people start
throwing things; or worse, tell
everybody about my performance,
and how much I sucked. I’ll be
embarrassed everywhere I go. I’ll
have no escape. People are
always going to remember me as
the person who couldn’t perform,
the person who can’t ever talk in
front of a crowd. I don’t want to do
this, I hate performing. If I was
confident I could just stand on that
stage and nail it, but I’m not. I’m
terrified, in fact I’m petrified. I
would use any excuse in the book
to not have to perform. I know
what you guys are all thinking, just
pretend to be sick. Well,
unfortunately I’ve tried that already
and they didn’t buy it. Use a doctor
note, well I tried that one too, and
as it turns out I’m not very good at
forging signatures. They didn’t
even buy the dead pet excuse.
You know what; actually maybe I
can do this. I’ve practiced for
hours. I know all my words. All I’ve
got to do is go up there and
perform it the way I know I can,
the way I’ve rehearsed it dozens of
times in the mirror, and if I do that
I’ll be fine. In fact, I’d be better
than fine, I’ll be amazing. I just
have to stay calm and relaxed.
And the point is just to have fun,
right? I don’t have to be the best, I
just need to do the best I can.
Alright, I can do this. I’m ready.
Hey, I’m… I… I… I can’t do this.
(Walks off-stage.)

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

No Cell Signal
By: Robert L., Los Angeles,
California, USA, Age 11
Gender: Male or Female
Genre: Comedic
Description: A student tries to
carry on a phone conversation
with terrible cell service.

(Student is speaking into a cell

phone and pacing about the
space; leaning over, crouching
down, standing on tip toes,
shouting, etc. Actor can come up
with a variety of challenging and
funny physical antics and facial
expressions.)

Hello? Can you hear me now?

What about now?…Dangit. Leslie?
Leslie? Are you there? Oh, okay.
(freezes in place) It seems to be
working fine. You can hear me,
right? Yeah, this is my new iPhone
6. My mom just bought it for me. It
is so LAME. I swear, I have to run
all over the place, pushing people
aside in order to get a signal.
What’s that? Oh, yeah. I can hear
you now. It’s important?…Well, go
ahead. (pause) Wait, what
happened?!!! I didn’t catch that
last part. Leslie? Dangit. (resumes
pacing, etc.) Can you hear me
now? Shoot. What about now?
Oh, I can hear you. You did what?
Hello? Ugh! (practically throws
phone) Leslie? Leslie! Okay, I’m
walking until I get a clear signal.
(pacing, pacing) Let me know
when you can hear me. (to self)
I’m going to drop this phone in the
toilet ‘on accident’ when I get
home. Okay, you can hear me? I
can hear you. Finally! (stops
moving) So, what happened? YOU
KILLED PATRICK AND YOU
WANT ME TO HELP MOVE THE
BODY? (someone nearby speaks
to her) Hold on. (covers phone
with hand) What? I’m where?
(looks around then talks into the
phone while running offstage) Oh
my God, I’m in the library!

The Things at
School You Hate
By: Nikki D., Los Angeles,
California, USA, Age 12
Gender: Male or Female
Genre: Comedic
Description: A student describes
their day at school.

(Student is speaking into a cell

phone and pacing about the
space; leaning over, crouching
down, standing on tip toes,
shouting, etc. Actor can come up
with a variety of challenging and
funny physical antics and facial
expressions.)

How was my day? Well, imagine

this. You’re in the classroom and
the one kid you absolutely detest,
walks up to you and asks to
borrow your pencil. Of course,
your first thought is, “Eww! No way
am I loaning you my pencil, freak.”
Only, something takes over your
mouth and you hear yourself
actually say, “sure.” You can’t take
it back. It’s out there and now you
have to give it to him and so you
do. At the end of class, you
remember you loaned the troll
your pencil. You only have two
pencils so you have to get it back
or your mother will nag you for
losing it and costing her a small
fortune in school supplies. You
take a deep breath, approach the
troll, and ask for your pencil back.
The troll grunts something
unintelligible and pulls your pencil
out of his pocket. You are horrified.
What used to be a brand new No.
2 pencil, has been clearly mauled
by Troll teeth. You reach for it and
realize it is covered in something
sticky. Troll spit. You want to
scream, “What is wrong with you?
That was MY pencil you ate,
Jeffrey Dahmer! That’s disgusting!”
Instead, you drop it back in his
trolly, swollen hand and say, “uh,
you can keep it.”

In your next class period, you slip

a piece of chewing gum in your
mouth. Unfortunately, the weird kid
next to you saw you do it and now
he wants a piece. You tell him no
and hope he gives up. He doesn’t.
In fact, he says that if you don’t
give him a piece, he’s going to tell
the teacher. You’re already on thin
ice in this class so, you give pass
him a piece while also giving him
the stink-eye. This alerts the
obnoxious kid sitting behind you
who loudly says, “Oooh! I want a
piece!” You firmly mouth the word
no over your shoulder and turn
back around. Obnoxious boy
pauses a moment and then says,
“Fine. I’ll just tell everyone you eat
your boogers.” In frustration, you
offer him one, hoping no one else
is witnessing the exchange. They
don’t. What they do see is weird
kid and obnoxious boy blowing
gargantuan bubbles during class.
Before you know it, everyone is
asking where they can get a piece.
Needless to say, you’re officially
out of gum, unless you count the
piece stuck to the bottom of my
shoe. So how was your day?

Grim Reality
By: Becca L., Los Angeles,
California, USA, Age 12
Gender: Female
Genre: Drama
Description: A young girl
describes her experience living
with cancer.

My name is Beatrice. I am 13
years old and I live in this hospital.
When I was 10, I was diagnosed
with brain cancer and I’ve been
here ever since. When you are
waking up, going to school,
attending parties, hanging out with
your friends, I’m stuck here in this
room with white walls, a white
floor, and white ceiling. While you
are out experiencing life, I lie in
this hospital bed. I try not to think
about it too much ‘cause if I do, my
head hurts, a lot. I have a window
in my room. This man comes
down the outside of the building
every week to wash it. I look out
the window when I’m bored, which
is all the time. The hospital is right
next to a middle school and I can
see kids my age talking, playing
sports, and eating pizza for lunch.
I’d give anything to trade bodies
with them. No one would want to
be me, though. Sometimes, when I
see the nurses running by with
patients on gurneys, or when I
hear heart monitors making that
long beeping sound, I wonder if
that will happen to me. If my brain
fails, will I even know it? I often
wonder how long I have left. My
mom says everything will be okay,
but I overheard my dad saying to
her that it won’t. It’s not really as
sad as it sounds. My sister is my
very best friend. When she is with
me, I feel less alone, more normal.
I’d give anything just to be a
regular kid.

Punctuation Society
By: Sophie W., Los Angeles,
California, USA, Age 11
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic
Description: Exclamation Point is
upset about Comma, who talks too
much.

Welcome everyone to the

Punctuation Society! This is our
first, of many weekly meetings. As
you may have noticed, Comma is
not here. I specifically did not
invite her. This is a Comma-free
society. Hey that rhymes! (Smiles
but then frowns again.) I,
Exclamation Point have finally
found something NOT to be
excited about. COMMA! She
keeps talking on and on and on!
When you finally think she is done
she just links what she is talking
about to something else! It is so
annoying. And when I am
annoyed, I leave, and everything
gets pretty boring. Question mark,
Period, Semicolon, and all the rest
of you, I know you’re with me on
this. No, ellipsis, we will not be
taking a vote! I am the President. I
have final say. Parentheses…stop
whispering. Do you have
something to share with the rest of
us? Oh, you like her? I don’t care if
you like her. She will make it
impossible to get anything done.
Hey, you in the back, quiet down.
Stop shouting! Wait…how’d a
bunch of capital letters get in here.
Get out! This is for punctuation
marks only! Okay, now, back to
business. No, Period…the meeting
is not over. Sit back down. Ugh.
This is exhausting. No wonder
people don’t use Exclamation
Points very often.

If I Were Him
By: Mckenna S., Lynden, Ontario,
Canada; Age 13
Gender: Male or Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teen wanders
down an alley to discover a
homeless man, forever changing
their perspective.

Imagine walking down a dark

alley-way lined with brick
buildings, garbage and junk. Then,
at the end, a light turns on,
flickering. Under that is a man
dressed in old clothes with holes,
no socks or shoes. He is sitting on
a grocery bag. He has a beard and
scratches on his face, bruises too.
He’s crying. He has a dog with
scraggly fur and only three legs. I
walk to him. He waves at me but
with only three fingers. He smiles
with black teeth. I ask about the
scars. He says it was a cat. I ask
why he is not on the street asking
for money. He answers that he
does not want money from people.
I slowly take a green twenty-dollar
bill out of my pocket, my week’s
pay. I tell him that he is the only
person on the street that I’ll give
money to. Then the light starts to
flicker again and the man crawls
back into his box. The light turns
off. I think what my life would be
like if I was him. As I walk away, I
think about how this man had
changed my life.

The Day My
Brother Left
The Day My Brother Left
By: Sarah M., Lynden, Ontario,
Canada, Age 13
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description:When a young man
heads off to university, it has a big
impact on everyone, including his
younger sister.

Imagine walking down a dark

alley-way lined with brick
buildings, garbage and junk. Then,
at the end, a light turns on,
flickering. Under that is a man
dressed in old clothes with holes,
no socks or shoes. He is sitting on
a grocery bag. He has a beard and
scratches on his face, bruises too.
He’s crying. He has a dog with
scraggly fur and only three legs. I
walk to him. He waves at me but
with only three fingers. He smiles
with black teeth. I ask about the
scars. He says it was a cat. I ask
why he is not on the street asking
for money. He answers that he
does not want money from people.
I slowly take a green twenty-dollar
bill out of my pocket, my week’s
pay. I tell him that he is the only
person on the street that I’ll give
money to. Then the light starts to
flicker again and the man crawls
back into his box. The light turns
off. I think what my life would be
like if I was him. As I walk away, I
think about how this man had
changed my life.

How it actually
went
By: Yoselyn H., Edinburg, Tx,
USA; Age 13
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic
Description: She is a dreamer
that has wishes.

This is how I imagined my first

breakup would be: (dramatic pose,
Girl imitating boy voice) I’m sorry.
It is not you, it is me. I feel our
connection has been lost and I
have fallen for someone else. I
want to breakup with you. (Girl
dramatically cries) What?! Why?!
Why me?! (falls dramatically to the
floor) I thought you loved me. I
guess I was wrong! This is how it
actually went: (Girl imitates boy
voice; calmly) So… um, I want to
breakup with you. (Girl being calm)
Uh, cool. And this is how I
imagined my marriage proposal
would be: (Girl imitates future
husband’s voice; kneels on the
floor, romantically) You are the
love of my life. You are the one.
We belong together forever. You
make me happy every day. I love
you. Will you marry me? (Girl acts
melodramatically) OMG! OMG!
OMG! Yes of course! I love you!
This is how it actually went: (turns
head from left to right) Yup, that’s
right. I’m still waiting for it. I hope
my life will take a big twist,
because at the pace it’s going, I’m
going to end up like the crazy old
lady across the street – with forty
cats and zero husbands!

Fight for Light

By: Sarah Catherine M., Madison,
Alabama, USA; Age 12
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A girl’s battle
between darkness and light is
abruptly interrupted by her mom.

I can’t help but feel protective. I

am everything. I am nothing. I
cannot see myself. I can only see
them, my children. My magnificent,
shining sources of love. They are
as inviting as the smell of warm
cookies wafting from the oven. My
stars. I can see everything in the
universe. Gliding through the
galaxy, faster that hundreds of
times the speed of light, I can see
in all directions. My goal is
consuming – to balance the raging
war between good and evil,
between darkness and me. I am
the embodiment of all that is good
in the universe. My purpose is to
defeat the dark matter plaguing
the universe. As I defend my stars
and fight for all that is good in the
universe, my opponent withers
and shrinks, folding in on itself. It
is reduced to the purest form of
darkness, shadow-light. It draws
me toward it, sucking the light out
of my soul. With a mighty heave, I
launch myself toward it,
overpowering the dark being
and…and then I hear her. “Sarah?
Sarah?!” It’s my mom calling.
“Mom!!! I almost beat my game!” I
pull my VR goggles off. I set them
down on my bedside table and
gaze up at the sky, imagining
myself soaring up through the
atmosphere into the deep ocean of
space. I can picture myself
zooming through everything,
surrounded by color and light…
and I vow that I will one day go
into space. Further, even. As far
as my dreams will take me!

The Assignment
By: Oren S., Age 15,
Pennsylvania, USA
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic
Description: A student complains
about having to write a
monologue.

A student sits at a desk, agonizing

over a blank piece of paper.
He/she gets up, addresses the
audience.

See here’s the thing. I don’t… like

monologues. But, two weeks ago
Mrs. Rolanda, my English teacher,
announced that we were all going
to write original monologues. This
was her idea of a “fun”
assignment. Fun. There are 36
people in my English class. Only
one person thought this would be
fun. And the kid thinks everything
is fun. Literally everything. One
time he was excited when we were
assigned a 35-page essay on
Millard Fillmore, who is the most
boring person in history. Who
really wants to know that much
about the 13th president of the
US? The only thing interesting
about him is his name. 35 pages!
His Wikipedia page is half that
many pages, and that has pictures
and headings and stuff! At least
the monologue only has to be a
page. I used to like English class.
That was before 5th grade. In 5th
grade, Mr. Fartherman ruined it for
me. He hated the English
language. He hated to talk in it,
hated to write it, hated to listen to
it. If you hate English so much,
then why did you become an
English teacher? When we came
into the class, he would give out a
worksheet with instructions on the
board. He hated to write in
English, so they were always in a
different language. He would
never tell us which one. So, every
day, the class would figure out
what language it was, type it into
google translate, and read the
instructions. By the time we did all
that, the period was almost over. I
don’t think I learned a single thing
in his class. Come to think of it, I
think he would have been a great
World Language teacher. Still
don’t know why he decided to
teach English. So anyway, he
ruined the subject English for me.
Every teacher I got after him kinda
sucked. I’m pretty sure my 4th
grade English teacher made sure I
was with the worst English teacher
for the rest of school. She
probably still holds a grudge from
“THE MISHAP”. It’s kind of a long
story. (Beat.) You know what? It
actually isn’t. We gave out
Valentine’s day candy, and I went
into everyone’s bag and ate
everything. (Beat.) Well I guess I
have to go write my
stupidmonologue thing now. What
should I write about? (Beat.) Wait.
Everything I just said. That was a
monologue! Yay! I wrote a
monologue! Who knew It could be
so fun? (Sits back down at desk
and starts writing.)

I’m an Artist, not a

Thief
Third Place Winner!
By: Sam M., California, USA, Age
17
Gender: Male
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A thief is
interrogated by the police.

Wait, did you guys call me a thief

right here, did you really just call
me a thief?! Ok you know, that
hurts. How could you say that?
Well you know what? It’s ok,
cause you can say whatever you
want about me because I don’t
really think of myself as a thief, I
think of myself more as an artist. I
take pride in my skills. To me, it’s
more of an art. No one can match
my skills or mastery. Listen up
guys I can break into any house
anywhere, anytime, take whatever
I want, in and out ten minutes no
prints no evidence nothing. If it
wasn’t for that stupid roadrunner
trap that the old man had I’d be in
Brazil by now instead of here
talking to you idiots. I could be on
the beach right now tanning like a
churro with a margarita in one
hand and a woman on the other
sitting on my lap! Do I feel bad
about what I do for a living, no. So,
you can say all you want about
me, but I know for a fact that I’m
more of an artist than I am a thief.

Rudolph’s Older
Brother
First Place Winner!
By: Trequan D., Mississippi, USA,
Age 17
Gender: Male
Genre: Comedic
Description: Rudolph’s brother
tells him not to forget where he is
from.

Hey man, bring ya red nose over

here… AYE MAN, I said bring ya
RED NOSE over here! I see you’re
all excited about being Santa’s
new favorite reindeer, but never
forget where you came from.
Yeah, I understand it’s nice to
finally laugh, not get called names,
and to play in all the reindeer
games with everyone else besides
just me… but can’t you see they’re
just using you? Santa never gave
you any attention until last
Christmas when he couldn’t see
any farther than he could spit.
Huh? What do you mean he said,
“you’re the light of his world”? He
was being serious, that wasn’t a
compliment! He taped you to the
back of his car because his tail-
light was out. Now explain to me
why you’re okay with that. Matter
fact nah, I don’t wanna hear it.
Now you’re chilling with Dasher
and Dancer acting like you’re a big
star just because your nose glows
up red, WE HAVE 50 THOUSAND
CHRISTMAS LIGHTS THAT DO
THAT SAME THING- you know
what Rudolph, do what you wanna
do, but never forget where you
came from.

A Burger Cook’s
Ramblings
Second Place Winner!
By: Lauren B., North Carolina,
USA, Age 12
Gender: Male
Genre: Comedic
Description: Rudolph’s brother
tells him not to forget where he is
from.

My life sucks. Every single aspect

of it. Terrible. From my friends to
my neighbor to my job, it’s all bad.
So, first, my best friend and
neighbor is not the sharpest tool in
the shed, to say the least. I moved
into my neighborhood in 1999.
Even though he’s my best friend,
we have sort of a love/hate
relationship. His lack of
intelligence gets in the way of
everything, and I have to act dumb
with him just to make him feel
better. The only time I have fun
with him is when we gang up on
our other neighbor. Now, that
guy…he’s a huge pompous jerk,
and the exact definition of a
delusional artist. He constantly is
trying to harm us in some way, and
has spoken about three kind
words to me total in the years that
I’ve known him. And my job? My
job is a living nightmare. I work in
an unsanitary kitchen as a cook.
I’m probably just one rotten burger
away from getting cholera or
salmonella. My jerk of a neighbor
works there, too, and only
complains about everything. I
pretend to love my job, since I
work for less than minimum wage,
and my boss would fire me if I
even suggested a raise. I’ve tried
to get another job, but every time I
do, it lasts about eleven minutes
before I’m crawling back to my
money-hungry boss. There’s a girl
that doesn’t live too far from me,
and she’s pretty nice. But all she
cares about is doing dumb science
experiments, mostly tests on me!
One good thing…I have a pet. But
it’s a snail. And guess what? Even
my pet snail hates me. It’s run
away a few times, too. Yeah, pretty
sad. And as if all of this wasn’t
enough, there’s one last cherry on
top. I’m constantly blowing my
money on repairs for my house,
because it’s always rotting away. I
guess it’s not all that surprising
though, since I live in a pineapple
under the sea.

Listen up, Doggie-

O
Third Place Winner!
By: Chelsie K., Alaska, USA, Age
12
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic
Description: A cat tells a dog
who’s boss.

Now listen up here doggie-o. I’m

the one who calls the shots around
here, see? I was here first, and as
a feline, I have the advantage in
the smarts department. See that
bowl there? That’s mine. I catch
you so much as sniffing around it,
you’ll be sorry. I may be smaller
than you, but I’ve got powerful
weapons in these here paws. You
ever tangled with a cat before?
Well, don’t. You’ll find out mighty
quick that I’m a force to be
reckoned with. Now, over there is
my bed. It’s the one that says
‘princess.’ Yours is the one that
says ‘woof.’ Which rhymes with
goof. As in goofball. Which most
dogs are. See, the humans, they
respect me. I don’t slobber all over
them and wag my tail like a moron.
I have dignity and poise. I even
keep myself clean, and I would
never, ever roll around in stinky
stuff in the yard, or chew on dirty
socks and then lick the humans.
Gross. I don’t perform tricks for
treats. That’s degrading. What are
you trying to do? Hey, what are
you trying to do back there? Go
find a dog’s butt to sniff! Ya better
watch it, doggie-o. Remember, I’m
the boss around here!

How are You?

By: Ellie K., Age 12, North
Carolina, USA
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teenager shares
too much information when asked
how he/she is doing..

How am I doing? Well, if I’m

honest, numb. It’s the best way to
describe how I am feeling. I’m
moving through each day basically
feeling empty and alone. From the
outside looking in, it seems as
though I have a lot of friends, but
no one knows the real me. My
family is great, but I feel I don’t
belong. I see a couple of
therapists, and I’ve been
prescribed all sorts of medications,
but none of that is really helping. I
feel as though I am slowly fading
away from reality. Medicine is not
magic, I guess. It just sort of
covers up all the hurt and
emptiness. I mean, I’m not suicidal
or anything. Well, not any more
than the next person, I guess.
Everyone thinks about it at one
time or another. Doesn’t mean I
am dangerous or that I need
protecting. The medicine is a
temporary fix, but temporary isn’t
forever. I will eventually break…a
lot of people do. In the meantime,
I’m just numb. (Pause.) I’ll bet
you’re sorry you asked. (Pause.)
Well, then. How are you doing?

Sorry I’m Late!

First Place Winner!
By: Lisa Iordache-Stir, Age 13,
California, USA
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic
Description:An employee
explains why they were late to
work.

I know I’m late for work, but you

would not believe the morning I’ve
had! Last night, I put all my clothes
into the washer and dryer since
most of them were dirty. To my
surprise, they were all shrunken
about three sizes after taking them
out of the dryer! I only had my
pajamas I slept in, so I wore them,
as you can see. Then, when I went
outside to get into my car, my car
door wouldn’t open. I put my
hands onto the freezing car
window and saw that my keys
were inside of the car! I had no
choice but to walk to work. As I
walked down the street, I heard
something come from a nearby
alleyway. Out of curiosity, I went to
see what it was. Let me tell ya, big
mistake. There were about ten, no,
about twenty ferocious street cats
staring me down. I slowly backed
away, but it was too late. They
chased me down the alley. About
five jumped onto me and attacked
me. This is why there are a ton of
scratches on my body. See? By
some miracle, I was able to
escape. I thought to myself, how
can this morning get any worse?
Trust me, it did. I was a block
away from the work office when I
went to the coffee shop right
around the corner and got some
hot coffee. I realized that I was
about to be late for work. I hurried
to get out of the shop, and of
course, I tripped and spilled the
coffee all over the place. My work
bag, my pajamas, my shoes, were
soaked! I tried to wash off as much
as I could in the bathroom, but it’s
still there, as you can see. So,
that’s why I’m late. I’ll try not to let
it happen again. What? It’s
daylight savings time? Oh, I’m an
hour early? Oh, then never-mind.

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

Trapped in an
Elevator
Second Place Winner!
By: Sophia M., Age 13, California,
USA
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic
Description: A terrified person is
trapped in an elevator.

(Actor mimes getting into the

elevator, pushing the button, and
having the elevator start up and
then lurch to a stop.) No. This isn’t
happening. This is it. My
nightmare has come true. I’m
going to die. The cable is going to
snap and I’m going to fall
hundreds of stories. (Rapidly
breathing.) I’m running out of air.
I’ve got to get out of here. Which
button do I press? This red one is
for emergencies, right? Or is it the
blue one? NO. Probably the red
one. Use your head. Think. Think.
Oh heck, I’m just going to press all
of them. (Presses the buttons.
Waits.) Nothing’s happening.
There should be a siren or
something. Help! Help! I’m trapped
in here! Anyone? Where’s my cell
phone? (Digging through bag,
checking pockets.) Oh my God, I
left it charging in the car. Okay,
calm down. Just calm down. What
do I have to eat or drink. (Rifling
through bag.) Two sticks of gum.
Gum covered in lint. I’m going to
die. (Slumps to the floor.) No one
knows I’m in here. They’re not
going to find me until my rotting
corpse starts stinking up the
building. This is a dream, right?
(Pinches himself/herself.) Nope.
I’m awake. I’m having a nightmare,
but I’m awake. So, this is the way
it ends for me. I’ll never get
married, or have children, or finish
my snake skin collection or fulfill
my life-long dream of being a
fortune-cookie writer. (Lies down
on the floor.) Okay God, take me
know. I’m ready. (Hears noise.) I
can hear the angels. They are
coming to get me. Wait a minute.
(Sits up.) That doesn’t sound like
angels. It sounds like a blow-torch.
(Jumps to feet.) Hello! I’m in here!
I’m still alive! (Elevator doors
open. Actor leaps out, pantomimes
hugging rescuers.) You found me
just in time! I’ve been in there for
days! What? It couldn’t have been
just five minutes! Fine. If you say
so. But from now on, I’m taking the
stairs.

Elves on Strike
First Place Winner!
By: Jeremy K., Age 12, Idaho
Falls, Idaho, USA
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic
Description: The leader of the
elves union rallies the elves
against Santa.

As the leader of the Union of the

Order of the North Pole Elves, I
stand here today and urge you to
say no to Santa! No more working
from sunup to sundown without so
much as a snickerdoodle break!
What does Santa think we are,
robots? No, we’re elves, and we
have rights! Tinsel, remember
when he made you clean Dasher’s
stall after he got into that barrel of
chocolate? Cleaning chocolate
poo is not in the elf job description!
And Snazzy, there was that time
when he ordered you to let Mrs.
Claus use you as a mannequin for
the little girl’s dresses she was
making. Humiliating! I mean, what
the falalala was he thinking? I
mean he makes us wear these
ridiculous Pinnocchio outfits and
sing while we work, while he sits
on his big fat butt watching the
weather channel. And on
Christmas day, he takes ALL the
credit. (Imitating children.) “Mom,
Santa came! Ooooh, look what
Santa got me! How did he know I
wanted this?” Listen up children of
the world: Santa is not the one
who made your train sets, and
your dolly houses and your walkie
talkies. It was US, the Elves of the
Order of the North Pole. We did it
all. Santa is just a lazy guy with a
wiggly belly who works basically
one day a year. Nothing but a
gloried delivery man if you ask me!
(Pauses. Listens to someone in
the audience.) What’s that? Santa
is where? (Looks behind him.) Oh
fudgesicles.

Chicken
Second Place Winner!
By: Kielle W., Age 16,
Chesapeake, Virginia, USA
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teen wishes to
overcome his/her fears.

I’m in the bird watching club at

school. I’ve adored the little
rascals since I could say the word.
I even memorized the state bird for
every place in America! They’re
just impossible not to admire.
Birds are so much freer than any
person I know. There’s no one to
hold them back and tell them what
not to do. Birds aren’t stuck in
moldy, rundown apartments. Birds
don’t stop themselves from flying
wherever they want because
they’re scared. No, I imagine that
birds are brave. Much braver than
me, that’s for sure. See, that’s why
I wish I had a pair of wings. I want
to feel free. I want to scatter
brightly colored feathers for little
girls to find in parks. Sparkle up
their day a bit. Mostly, I want wings
so that I could take flight. Leave
behind my problems and soar into
the sky. It’s why I love to go out on
the roof. The wind blowing in my
hair, the sun shining its beautiful
rays down upon me. I pretend I’m
flying for hours when I’m up there.
Sometimes I linger on the ledge,
arms spread as wide as an eagle.
And I know one step is all it would
take for me to finally, truly fly. One
little step but… I never do. I
always get scared and go back
inside. Chained to the ground by
everything I’ve got going for me.
One day though, I’m gonna fly. I
just need the courage to take that
first step.

The Bully
By:Philip G., Age 13, New Mexico,
USA
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teen wishes to
overcome his/her fears.

Look, you’re new here, so I feel it’s

my duty to warn you… there are a
couple of people you’ll want to
avoid. Skylar Morrison likes to
thump kids on the head. He’s easy
to spot because he’s the biggest
kid in our grade. He used to be in
the grade above us, but I guess he
needed to learn more, so he’s in
our class now. He’s mostly
harmless beyond the thumping on
the head thing. It’s Ross Sullivan
you really have to watch out for.
His real name is Roscoe and
sometimes teachers call him that,
especially if they are new. But
make sure that YOU don’t ever
call him that. He’s pretty good at
name-calling. There’s this one kid
he calls booger-licker or BL for
short. That’s Julian Wynn, and he
has really bad allergies. Ross also
likes to do things like stuff mashed
potatoes down your shirt at lunch.
I know this from personal
experience. If you tell on him, that
will make it worse. He especially
likes to pick on smart kids, and I’m
telling you this because I can
already tell that you are smart.
(Pause.) What? Oh, I don’t know
why he does it. If I had to guess I
would say that he probably gets
treated like that at home. That’s
what my mom says anyway. Kids
who torment other kids usually
don’t have it so good at home.
(Pause.) Yeah, me too. I have
awesome parents. Hey, maybe we
can try to be nice to him. Maybe
he needs a friend. I never thought
of that. We can at least try.

Pigeonpocalypse
By:Brooke E., Little Rock,
Arkansas, USA, Age 14
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic
Description: A student finds an
extra credit science assignment is
going horribly wrong as overgrown
dough attracts a wave of deadly
pigeons.

(The speaker is on the phone,

frantic, pretending to peer out
windows nervously.)
Yes, this is an emergency. I
haven’t been outside my house in
three days. They’re out there-in
throngs, herds, flocks: the
pigeons. Okay, I’ll try to stay calm
and explain. It all started because
of fungus. See, my friend Tom and
I were put in a group for a science
project on fungus, and there was
this… extra credit assignment. It
was simple; we were given a kit,
and supposed to grow yeast. To
make yeast, you ferment sugar
found in fruits, like grapes. I
decided to do it; what could go
wrong?… Everything. I bought
grapes at the store, and didn’t pay
attention to the fact that they’d
been pumped full of special
chemicals to grow big. When I
tried to make the yeast from the
grapes, I accidentally created a
special, powerful yeast… a
superyeast. I was so excited that I
told Tom about it, and y’know what
he said? He laughed and said he
wouldn’t believe it unless I made
the world’s biggest loaf. Well,
y’know what? I was going to make
that loaf. So I work for hours. I’m
going to leave the loaf to rise
under the skylight. Speaking of
that nice, glass skylight… the sun
coming through the big glass
skylight is so warm, and cozy, and
I… well. I fall asleep, and… hey,
what’s-WHAT HAPPENED? The
yeast-it’s-swelling! Growing! It’s so
big it’s pressed up against the
skylight! You gotta send help or it’ll
break through the glass! My cat
Ringo is coming into the kitchen,
guess he heard me. Be a good
boy, Ringo. Ignore the fresh,
yeasty scent… RINGO, NO,
DON’T POUNCE! THE BREAD!
He’s chomping it! It’s bursting
through the skylight, raining dough
on the neighborhood! How am I
going to patch that skylight, mom’ll
kill me… wait… do ya hear that?
Coo…coo… COO! Pigeons!
PIGEONS! The pigeons are
coming from the sky in a
hurricane! They are like an
unstoppable wave of feathered
locusts, eating every scrap of
bread they can get their pointy
beaks on! I’ve gotta cover the
skylight hole before they get in!
GET BACK, FEATHERED
FIENDS, GET BACK! (gulp) Hurry!
Hurry! Oh, no… I think they’re
ripping through the sheets I put
over the skyligh! If I don’t make it,
don’t let them write “devoured by
gluttonous pigeons” on my
tombstone.

A Place to Hide
By: Lillian Orr, Age 12, South
Carolina, USA
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: Snow White explains
her predicament to the seven
dwarves.

Um, could you all stop staring at

me please? It’s a little creepy.
Look, I didn’t mean to trespass.
I.I…was trying to get some rest. I
was so tired last night. You see,
my evil stepmother sent out her
huntsman to try to try to kill me.
What would you do if you were
trying to escape with your life? I
didn’t have a choice. I ran and ran
and this was the first house I
found. Honestly, this wasn’t what I
was expecting. Everything is so
tiny. Little beds, little chairs, little
tables…. but, I don’t care, I just
need somewhere to hide. My evil
stepmother hates me because
every time she talks to that stupid
mirror, it always tells her that I’m
the fairest in the land and goes on
and on about my fair skin that’s
white like snow and blah, blah,
blah, blah, blah. So, I guess she
figured if I was dead, she would be
the fairest and prettiest of them all.
That’s why I’m here. I don’t even
want to be the fairest of them all. I
was so tired that I fell asleep in
these beds. (Pause.) Maybe we
can come up with a compromise.
How about this: if you guys don’t
tell anyone that I’m here, I will
make meals for you, clean your
cottage, mend your clothes, take
care of you when you are sick, and
this will be our little secret.

You’d Better Pay

Me
By: Dillon Hammell, Age 12,
South Carolina, USA
Gender: Male
Genre: Dramatic
Description: The Pied Piper
threatens the townspeople if the
Mayor doesn’t pay him.

What do you mean you aren’t

going to pay me? I just got rid of
those rats for you. They won’t be
back for a long time, if ever. So,
where’s my money? What? This is
a joke, right? I have a family to
feed you know. You need to pay
me now! I just single handedly
went from town to town playing my
flute and had an army of rats
following me. I got rid of them all,
every last one! If it wasn’t for me,
then you people would have
gotten a horrible plague that would
have killed almost everyone. You
need to know that there are more
things I can do with this flute of
mine. Since you were smart
enough to hire me to take care of
the rats then you should be smart
enough to know that you should
pay me unless you want
something terrible to happen. Still
not going to pay, huh? (Starts
playing the flute.) Do you hear
that? That thunder and lightning
surrounding us? That’s the magic
starting to work. Say goodbye to
your children. (He grins and starts
playing the flute again.)

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

I’m not Sorry

First Place Winner
By: Kaheni Johnson, Baltimore,
Maryland, USA, Age 15
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teen tells his/her
side of the story to a police officer.

What were my alternatives,

officer? You tell me. I mean how
many times you guys been out
there? A dozen, maybe? It’s
always the same. You take him
away, his breath reeking of Colt
45, and he spends one night
sleeping it off and she springs him
the next morning out of sheer fear.
You ever know that kind of fear?
Ice in your veins. She did try to
leave. A couple times. One time
we made it as far as Charleston.
We ran out of money and he was
calling, begging, his voice thick as
honey. I tried everything I could to
convince her to keep going. I
would get a job. We could have a
fresh start. But she turned that car
around and drove straight through
to daylight. I could feel the planet
spinning that night. Did you know
that the earth turns at 1,000 miles
an hour? Most of the time you
can’t tell. But you can always feel
it when you are travelling in the
wrong direction. That was only a
month ago. And right away he
started up again. Last night? Okay,
you want to hear about last night?
He was out as usual and I heard
his truck sputter into the driveway.
I could tell by the way the gravel
crunched under his feet that he
was drunk. Pretty soon I heard
voices in their room. Not loud at
first, but then there was a slam
against the wall and there was
silence for a moment. Something
was different this time, I could
sense it. I rushed to their room and
saw him hovering over her, hitting
her over and over. She wasn’t
even conscious. I screamed at him
to stop and he looked at me with
white hot rage. It wasn’t even like
there was a person there. I ran to
the kitchen and grabbed the gun.
The one she kept hidden in an old
toaster oven in the bottom cabinet.
Her “just in case” gun. I didn’t even
think about it, officer. I went back
to the bedroom and I shot him. I
shot him twice in the head. He
didn’t even notice that I was there.
He was too busy killing my mom.
Last night it was going to be her or
him, and I chose her. I’m not sorry
about it either. So, you go ahead
and do what you gotta do. Can I
have a glass of water, or some
fresh air? Hey, can you feel that?
The earth stopped spinning.

The Interview
Second Place Winner
By:  Divya Manikandan;
Karnataka, India; Age 16
Gender: Any (For male character,
change the name.)
Genre: Comedic
Description: A teen prepares
nervously for a college interview.

(On phone.) No, mom. I haven’t

even gone in yet. I’m in the lobby
practicing while I wait. Yes, I will. I
love you too. Mom, I WILL. I have
to go now. Bye. Now, where was
I? (Coughs to clear her throat and
smiles.) Good morning. My name
is Jeanine Brefcyznki and I know
that those are two very polar,
funny sounding names but that’s
just me! I’m a bit American and bit
Polish! My mom always says that I
have the benefits of the American
dream, blessed with the Polish
work ethic! (Rolls eyes and slaps
forehead.) Jeanine what’s wrong
with you? You sound like a cheesy
infomercial. Actually, you’re worse
than that, if you were selling a
vacuum cleaner, no one would buy
it because of how stupid you
sound. (Stands up straight, pushes
shoulders back and extends her
hand for a handshake) Good
morning, my name is Jeanine
Brefcyznki. How’re you doing this
fine morning? (Animatedly) Oh!
That’s wonderful! Oh! No, I’m fine
with just water. So… how’re you
feeling today? (Slaps forehead
again and makes irritated noise)
Jeanine! You can’t ask your
interviewer how they’re feeling!
That’s for them to ask you, just
shut up and sit down, you silly
human being. (Sits down and
takes a breath, places hands on
lap.) Take three. You can do this.
Oh! That is an excellent question.
First off, the research opportunities
at your university are mind
blowing! The stem cell project?
Pure genius… and the self-
sustaining ecosystems… I would
love to be around that kind of
innovation. (Smile turns into an
angry frown) Okay…. and now I
sound totally pretentious. Come on
Jeanine! Do you want to get into
college or not!? Good god woman!
Get yourself together! (Pulls
flashcard out of her pocket and
paces the room) Da da da da
da…. Plato’s sympo…sympos…
how do you say this word?
Symposium? My favorite book is
Plato’s symposium…and why you
may ask? Well, because my
mother told me that it’ll make me
sound smart! Remember Jeanine,
open body language and smile….
open and smile. (Smiles at
audience. Looks at flashcard again
and starts pacing.) Blah blah blah
blah… I love to learn… something,
something, something… I spend
my summers attending
contemporary art conferences in
Europe… okay okay, okay…
where’s the important stuff? (Flips
card over.) Oh, right okay! You
need to memorize this before the
interview starts… (Phone rings.
Jeanine jumps looking a bit
startled but then angrily picks up
the phone.) Mom. I haven’t gone
into the interview yet, you don’t
need to call me every two minutes!
(Pauses for two seconds, mouth
and eyes wide.) Oh! Oh my god!
I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to yell
like that, I thought it was my
mom… Yes of course I’ll come in
right away! I’m so sorry!

Generation Gap
First Place Winner
By:  Caroline F. Minneapolis,
Minnesota, USA, Age 15
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedy
Description: A teenager makes
fun of his/her mom’s choice in
music.

Note: Misheard lyrics are from the

song “Smells Like Teen Spirit” by
Nirvana. Actor should play the
song listening for the
misinterpreted phrase and actually
sing it during the monologue.

Do your parents make you listen to

their music? Mine do. It’s torture, I
tell you. Listening to my mom’s
music especially. She likes this
one band, Nirvana, and I swear
you cannot understand a single
word they are singing. There’s this
one song and I think it goes like
this, “A mulatto, an albino, a
mosquito, my libido.” I think maybe
the band members were poor and
couldn’t read or write because
also, their clothes look like they
came from the free box. My mom
also likes this band called
Aerosmith. She says that their
music makes her feel like dancing
and by dancing, I mean leaping
and kicking and whipping her hair
around in circles. It’s so
embarrassing. I looked up pictures
of Aerosmith online and the main
guy doesn’t look like a guy at all.
He looks like my aunt Sharon who
used to look really old, but had her
face lifted up and now she looks
surprised all the time. But the lead
singer doesn’t dress like her. More
like a person who was going to a
costume party and couldn’t decide
between being a witch or an Indian
Chief. All the other people in the
band just look mad in their
pictures, especially the skunk hair
guy. And oh yeah, she likes the
Rolling Stones. And I guess they
are kind of cool…for ancient,
mummified rock stars. I heard my
dad once tell my mom that if there
was a nuclear war, the only things
left would be the cockroaches and
Keith Richards, the skeleton-
looking guy. She plays the Rolling
Stones a lot in the car and has to
sing along with every word. This
summer the air conditioner broke
in our SUV so she’s been rolling
down the windows, but that isn’t
stopping her from singing at the
top of her lungs. I’ve spent a lot of
time shrunk down in my seat. I
tried to get her to listen to my
favorite band, One Direction. She
says they sound like embryos
trying to put on a concert. See, I
told you that she has terrible taste
in music. One thing’s for sure.
When I grow up and have kids of
my own, I will play One Direction
in the car and in the house in front
of their friends, and I will for sure
not embarrass them!

I Don’t Need
Therapy
Second Place Winner
By:  Aamira Waheed; New York,
New York, USA, Age 17
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teenager explains
his/her reasons for being upset to
a therapist.

I don’t see why I’m here. I’m not

the one who needs a therapist.
Yes, I’m stressed out, and maybe
I’ve been a little emotional lately.
You would be too, if you lived at
my house. All they do is argue.
Doesn’t matter if it’s a big thing or
a small thing. I mean, the other
day, they argued about how to cut
the toast. Mom had cut it straight
across and dad said it should go
on the diagonal. Then my mom
said that she wasn’t his mother
and it was time to cut the apron
strings. Whatever that means.
When they realized I was in the
kitchen, my mom flashed me her
fake smile and passed me a plate
of toast. I said I wasn’t hungry.
Next thing, she’ll think I’m
anorexic. So what if I stay in my
room? It’s peaceful there with my
earbuds in. Music makes me
happy. I’ve been thinking about
learning to play an instrument. I
made the mistake of mentioning
this to my parents. Right away,
dad offered to get out his old
trumpet. Mom said that he should
shut up and let me decide. Then
dad told mom that she didn’t have
to be such a witch about it. I said I
was finished with dinner and
asked to be excused. And mom all
of a sudden acted concerned and
felt my forehead to see if I was
sick. I went to my room and I could
tell they were still arguing. They
were doing that thing where they
were trying to keep their voices
down, but it’s totally obvious. They
weren’t always like this. I mean,
they used to be in love. If you ask
me, they are the ones who need
therapy. I mean, am I missing
something here? (laughs) Thank
you for saying that. I really mean
it, I do. Most people don’t take
teenagers seriously. (pause) Do
you play an instrument? Oh, the
cello is nice. But I was thinking
more like drums. Drown out the
noise.

No Burial
First Place Winner
By: Sarah K., Tulsa, Oklahoma,
USA, Age 14
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teenager visits her
(or his) father’s grave with a friend.

I used to come here a lot. Maybe it

was guilt. Or depression. Or just
habit. You know he’s not buried
here, right? It’s just an empty
grave. Kind of ironic that they
etched a mountain on his
headstone. That’s where he’s
actually buried. Well, not really
buried. They never told us, but I
watched this movie about Mt.
Everest, and apparently, when
people die up there, they just
leave the bodies. Yes, I’m serious.
There’s no way to get them off
there. It’s too dangerous. After I
saw that, I kept picturing him in my
imagination, frozen. Tiny icicles
hanging from his eyebrows and
beard. In my mind, his eyes are
open and he is reaching out. Stuck
like that forever. Or at least until
he’s buried beneath a snow drift.
For a long time, I had dreams…
well nightmares that he is
somehow still alive up there and
no one can find him. I worry that
his soul is not at rest. My mom told
me that she had begged him not to
go. He had small children, she
said. It was irresponsible. But my
dad was an explorer, a conqueror.
I don’t remember him much, but I
can see it in his eyes when I look
at pictures of him. He almost made
it to the top. (Pause.) One day, I’m
going to make it for him. I’ll do it
when I’m still young. Before I have
children. I’m going to take a rock
from that mountain and bring it
back here. Maybe then he can
rest.

DNA
Second Place Winner
By: Eli J., Sarasota, Florida, USA,
Age 15
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A student offers a
melancholy explanation for why he
(or she) keeps falling asleep in
class.

I’m sorry Mrs. Trask. I’m trying. I

just can’t stay awake in your
class…yes, I think biology is
interesting, especially DNA.
Deoxyribonucleic acid. Kind of
rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? I’ve
been thinking a lot about the
double helix and how it reminds
me of sacred geometry. Do you
know about sacred geometry?
Well, that’s okay. But I imagine the
shape and structure of our DNA is
related to some kind of larger thing
in the universe. I mean, look at it.
It’s like art. A turning ladder made
up of tiny intricate colors. And the
fact that no two are the same says
a lot. (Pause.) Well, for instance, it
means that each person is unique.
Even if you are born of certain
parents, you don’t have to turn out
like them because you are
different. (Pause.) No, I don’t really
want to be like my parents. Well,
maybe my mom. My dad, he’s just
stressed out is all. There are five
of us, and Spencer, he takes a lot
of work. At the hospital, they said
he wouldn’t live, but he did, and
now my mom has to stay home to
take care of him. My dad works a
lot and I think that’s why he’s mad
all the time. I just wish he wouldn’t
yell, and…well, other stuff. I can’t
talk about it. Anyway, sometimes I
don’t get a lot of sleep. That’s why
I fall asleep in your class. I’ll try
harder, I promise. I like learning. I
like learning that deep in my bones
is a code that belongs to me and
only me. Gives you comfort,
doesn’t it?

The Promotion
First Place Winner
By: Isabel Parent, Calgary
Alberta, Age 15
Gender: Male
Genre: Comedic
Description: A nervous Walmart
employee makes a video tape of
himself asking for a promotion.

Brock: Okay. I think I got it.

Alrightie, (Mutters to self.) how do I
start this? (Clears throat. Starts
again in announcer voice.) Hi. I’m
Brock Bruce, and I am here to tell
you why I, Brock Bruce, your
hardworking Walmart stock boy of
28 years deserves a promotion.
(Exaggerated wink.) No! Aw heck.
(Jumps off stool and moves off
camera. Grabs weights and does
a few exercises to calm down.)
Okay. (Tries again. Adopts a more
serious “sexy” tone.) Hi. My name
is Brock Bruce. You may have
seen me at your local Walmart. I
have dedicated 28 years to that
store, and the fine customers
inside it. As a fellow, neighbor,
worker, and citizen of this fair town
I am here to tell you why I, Brock
Bruce, deserves a promotion, and
how together, we can make
Walmart Great Again! Agh! Too
Trump! Mama always said avoid
the political talk. (Sit back down
and smile.) Some of my skills
include speed stacking, using
candy to locating lost children, and
peeling the smiley sticker off first
try, no tear! Actually, in grade six I
was voted most likely to end up
working at Walmart, so who cares
about skills when the people have
spoken! (Pause.) My hobbies
include fitness dancing, because
you don’t get a (subtley does
some body builder poses.) great
body like this from just stocking
the shelves. Well if you need any
more reasons other than these
that which I did just tell you, then I
don’t think the Walmart smiley face
could get this job! And not just
because he’s just a head, I
mean… (Talking to self.) Heck, I’ve
worked here 28 years and I can’t
get this darned promotion.
(Speaking to camera.) And I really,
need this. I mean, it’s not even for
me. My mama needs a stair lift so
she can get downstairs to the beer
fridge; she hasn’t taken her pills
dry since her twenties! Besides, I
think I’m running out of time. But I
swear, if I get this promotion I will
be the hardest worker you’ve ever
had. I’m Brock Bruce, and I will
see you at work tomorrow. I’ll be
there early. And stay late. Just in
case you need to contact me.
Brock Bruce. Any time. I’ll be
there. Okie dokie. (Waits for a
minute for camera to turn off.) Oh,
I have to turn it off. (Attempts to
turn camera off. Struggles and
gets frustrated. Yells as he exits.)
MAMA! HOW DO YOU TURN
THE CAMERA OFF?

My Sister’s Song
Second Place Winner
By:  Payton Doerksen, Carman,
Manitoba, Canada, Age 13
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A young woman
overhears her sister singing alone
at night.

Amanda sits on her sister Isabel’s

bed.

I don’t mean to eavesdrop on you,

but the walls are so thin. I can’t
help but listen. I hear you singing
at night and it’s very calming, but
also kind of sad. It reminds me of
an angel ringing a bell in the
moonlight. It’s both soft and light,
Isabel. I know you hate me for
listening and that I’m just an
annoying little sister, but I love
listening to you. I love you.
Sometimes I wonder if something
has happened to you. I wonder
and I wonder, and I know that you
say it’s just my imagination. But
your voice sounds so sad
sometimes that it frightens me.
There are stories in your songs. I
know you have a right to privacy
and you don’t have to tell me
anything. But you would, wouldn’t
you? Just please don’t yell at me
again. I hate it when you do that,
or when you stop talking to me.
The only thing worse than yelling
is silence. We’re sisters. We’re
blood. And with things are the way
they are, we’re sometimes all each
other has. I guess we don’t have
to talk about it anymore, but
please don’t stop. It helps me fall
asleep…the sound of you singing
your heart out.

Younger Self
Third Place Winner
By:  Rosa Miillan, Los Angeles,
California, Age 11
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A character talks to a
younger version of herself (or
himself).

This is me. (Shows the picture.)

Sometimes I take out this picture
and talk to her. I tell her about
what’s going to happen in her
future, and I tell her that I miss the
past. I tell her that I miss the days
when I didn’t have to go to school.
The days where I would just eat
and play all day. I tell her that I
miss all the attention I used to get
from people., the times when I
didn’t even think to worry what
other people thought of me. I didn’t
judge myself and my imperfections
then, I was happy. I think I was like
four or five. That was before I
realized there was so much
sadness in the world. When I look
at her picture, I can feel her telling
me that it’s going to be okay, and I
want to believe her. There were
even times when I didn’t want to
be on this earth anymore, but
looking at her, I felt that things
were going to get better…that I
would come out stronger than
ever. (Puts picture away.) I wonder
what my future self will say to me
one day. I hope I can give her
strength when she needs it.

At What Cost?
By:  Olivia S., Calgary, Alberta,
Canada, Age 14
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description:  A beauty pageant
contestant questions whether or
not to continue competing.

Dolly Ransun is a 13-year-old girl

who lives in Georgia with her
mom. Her dad left before she was
born. Her exterior is very stuck up
and arrogant but internally she is
very down to earth. The only
reason she does pageants
anymore is in hopes that her dad
will reach out to her. In this
monologue, she is running through
her chorography for her up-and-
coming pageant and slowly
unraveling. She is talking to
herself about all the things on her
mind.
Walk, walk, walk and cupcake
hands and left foot, two steps right
foot, two steps and… (pauses)
Shoot! What the heck comes after
the right foot? Is it the turn or
walking the other way? Ugh it’s
turn, of course, it’s the turn Dolly.
Get your act together! Okay, start
again. It’s fine, it’s fine. You’re still
gorgeous. “Ultimate Grand
Supreme” is still yours. Okay.
Smile, walk, walk, walk and
cupcake hands and… left foot two
steps and…right foot two steps
and turn and back (rolls her ankle
and collapses in pain.) Ah! My
stupid ankle! I can’t afford for you
to give out on me! You have one
job, ankle, one job: Stay. Up.
(Picks herself up.) Okay, let’s try
again. Walk, walk, walk and
cupcake hands and turn and heart
face! (Stops. Realizing.) I can’t do
this anymore. That’s it. I’m going
to tell her I don’t want to do this
anymore. The fake eyelashes, the
hair, the nails, and starving myself.
For what? A chance Dad might
finally come back? No. If he didn’t
want me before, he’s not going to
want me now. I’m nothing to him.
Nothing. But that’s okay. (Long
pause.) I got mama and grandma
and grandpa who love me and
support me. No matter what.
(Realizing.) What will they do
when I tell them I’m done? I’m so
tired. I’m tired of being someone
that’s superficial. Tired of trying to
get something that feels….
unachievable. My childhood has
been taken away from me. I mean
when was the last time I went to
the park? Or went swimming my
friends? Heck, when have I ever
done something just for fun?
Something just for me? This is not
who I am. I have to tell her. I need
to tell her. (Calling out.) Mom?

The Unknown Known

By:  Annika G., Calgary, Alberta,
Canada, Age 14
Gender: Male
Genre: Dramatic
Description:  A character talks to
a younger version of herself (or
himself).

Michael is a secret time traveler

who owns a record store. In this
monologue he’s talking to Jason,
his best friend, about an important
decision that lie ahead: Stay in the
now and accept what you have, or
leave this world behind for the
unknown.Jason, I want to ask you
something. We’ve known each
other a long time and we’ve seen
each other through life’s ups and
downs. If you were to choose to go
back, back to when we were
young, back to when your hopes
were still present and your whole
future lay ahead, would you do it?
Right now, if I told you that I knew
how to time travel, would you go
back to that night when you got
drunk and ran naked into the pond
behind my house? Would you
make a different choice so that
you didn’t go through high school
with the nickname Streak? What
about the time that you lied to
Elizabeth about never having
dated Joelle and she found out
and broke up with you…breaking
your heart, really. Would you go
back and be at least honest with
her? I think about this a lot. Mostly,
I think about Thomas, and how if I
would have been paying attention
at the river, he would still…he
would…be here. Would you do it
all over again and have a chance
to reverse doing everything you’ve
regretted? Or… would you go
forward and take the unknown
future and be whisked away to a
place where everything could be
totally new… like a fresh start?
Just stay here…and have that be
enough.

No Regrets?
By:  Lindsey A., Calgary, Alberta,
Canada, Age 15
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description:  A character defends
her choices to her former
classmates.

Amber is a young woman living in

Los Angeles. She dropped out of
high school when she was 15. In
this scene, she is attending her
high school reunion and feels the
need to defend her life choices.
I don’t regret my choices. I don’t.
Admit it, I’m prettier than every
single one of you. I’m probably the
prettiest woman on the whole
planet. It’s okay honey, we can’t all
be winners. Losers like you only
exist to make girls like me shine
even more. Oh, that’s right. Did
you know I changed my name?
That’s right. My name is Amber
Bethany Elizabeth Mary-Sue
Katherine Windslow. Windslow is
my 80-year-old husband. Of
course, I married him for his
money! But I don’t mind. I don’t.
Billionaires are attractive at any
age. He buys me anything I want. I
shop on Rodeo Drive. I have my
own chauffer and personal stylist. I
have a hair and make-up artist and
a personal trainer. I can afford
implants…see? And liposuction
and face-lifts…anything. And
yeah, surgery totally sucks, but
beauty hurts, right? It’s so worth it.
Some girls call me a sell-out, but
they’re just totally jealous. They
wish they could be me. Sure, I’ll
never actually get married for love.
I’ll never actually be in a
meaningful relationship. But it’s
not like I need one. I try not to
have any real friends; they just
judge me drag me down. I
dropped out of college because
who needs a degree, right? I mean
look at what I have. I’m laughing
just thinking about it! The same
goes for voting and leadership.
That’s a boy thing. Girls can just
sit back and watch from the
sidelines. The dog’s life, right? It’s
so much easier than actually doing
anything. We’re just objects,
wallflowers, property. Some girls
like to think that they can be
special snowflakes, but they’re all
idiots! If they would just accept
their place in the world… If they
would just embrace it… If they
would just be what society wants
them to be… They would be
happy! (Begins experiencing an
emotional shift.) That’s why…
that’s why… I-I-I already told you. I
don’t regret my choices.

The Assistant
By: Lily P., Carman, Manitoba,
Canada, Age 12
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A difficult boss rants
about her assistant.

I know you’re probably wondering

why I’m drenched in coffee, so I’ll
start from the beginning. It all
started when I left for work, you
know where I work right? Yes,
Kimmel and Becket on 55th. The
law office. Okay back to the story.
So, I left around 8:00 and got to
work at 8:30 and my new assistant
wasn’t even there. At 8:30 she is
supposed to be there. I’m not a
mean or impatient person so I just
sat at my desk, tapping my foot,
waiting for her. After about two
minutes I was so mad I wanted to
fire her right when she walked in
the door. It’s so hard to find good
help these days. Last month, I had
to fire four slackers right after
another because they were not
what I was looking for. I just want
an assistant who listens to me and
doesn’t put cream in my coffee.
So, after about four whole minutes
of me staring at the door just
waiting for that rat to walk in, she
came running in. She saw how
angry I was and started in with this
ridiculous story about being
mugged on the way to work, I
mean that happens all the time in
New York, but it doesn’t mean you
have to be late! So, then she held
up my coffee and acted all
apologetic like everything was
gonna be fine. I looked at her and
told her in the nicest way ever
“Leave now, your fired.” Then she
looked at me like nothing and
threw that coffee right at my face.
It splashed all over my Ann Taylor
blouse and onto my Jimmy
Choo’s. Then she slapped me and
ran out. I’m going to sue her and
then have her banished from this
country! I am never gonna let
someone treat me like nothing and
I don’t even care if it was her first
day!

Paper Cranes
By: Jefferson T., Cupertino,
California, Age 16
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A young man
reminisces about his friend
Sadako, and the thousand paper
cranes she folded during the
Atomic age.

I’m a liar… *huhm* Well I’m

certainly something. It’s easy to
get strange around here. So many
grim faces, so many doctors, so
many treatments. It all stops
making sense after a while. “acute
malignant leukemia of the lymph
glands” sounds fancy, don’t it?
‘Atom Bomb Disease’ rolls off the
tongue better. It was the course of
governments that led to the most
destructive weapon ever
conceived, but it was the people
who paid the price. No presidents
no emperors, us kids. I wish I
could sleep, I’m always tired in the
morning, the nurses call me out for
looking bleary. I think it’s funny,
they know I don’t have anywhere
to be. I’ve spent so many nights
staring out this same window
looking at this same street lamp. I
blame the snores from the five
other people in this room. I can
never sleep when I want to. You
think something so basic to living
would come easier. Maybe if I fold
some cranes, all my struggles
would be solved (laughs). I
shouldn’t joke about that. No, it’s
wrong. It feels wrong to Sadako.
Oh, Sadako. She’s in a better
place now, outta this place at
least. Only twelve in this hospital,
this is no place for little girls, this is
no place for anyone. Too sterile
too gray too hopeless. I can’t stop
thinking about Sadako, how she
spent her last few week folding all
those cranes. I had told her a
while ago, jokingly of course, the
legend that anyone who folded
one thousand paper cranes would
be granted a wish. Fold a
thousand. Money? Done.
Superpowers? Easy. Not dying?
Easy. The poor thing spent her last
months folding and folding and
folding. Not taking in music or
colors or flavors, but folding the
same damn thing again and again.
She only got up to six hundred
something, before she (looks for
word) went. It didn’t matter in the
end, I knew it wouldn’t, paper
cranes can’t cure cancer, I know
that. I Shouldn’t have told her that.
I’m a liar. Maybe it wasn’t the
worst thing, hope is hope right?
And she found that, had it. I think
she realized it wasn’t gonna save
her, she must have, she wasn’t
dumb. I know she saw the end
coming, but she kept folding. I
can’t understand why she would
spend all those hours on
something so pointless. I messed
with her head with, I’m older I
shoulda known better, I shoulda
done better. It’s good she spent
her time doing something she
wanted to do, that is that. But its,
it’s weird to think she’s becoming a
hero for it isn’t it, the cranes I
mean? I hear them talking about
how inspirational her story is.
Really? They saw how it ended,
how it ends for all of us, what’s
beautiful about that? I can hardly
bear to think about it. It’s not ok,
it’s not right. It’s so helpless can’t
you see? Folding paper and
legends, that’s not enough to build
hope on, but it’s all we get. It’s
cruel. Nothing inspirational about
it. Nothing more to say about it.
She’s no hero, none of us are,
we’re all just dying in our own
ways. I really need to get some
sleep, it’s so late. Nothing stops
the morning.

Fencing 101
Second Place Winner
By: Brooke E., Little Rock,
Arkansas, Age 14
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic
Description: A snobby fencing
instructor gets a comeuppance.

Hello, and welcome to Fencing

101. I’m your instructor, Archibald
Atticus Vanderbilt Carnegie
Harvard Dartmouth Stephens
Columbia Car-wait, I already said
Carnegie, where was I? Oh, stop
looking at me like that! I’m sure
you aren’t as capable of keeping
track of your first fifty middle
names. Now, the art of the sword
is an art dating back to the earliest
ages of reason, perfected during
the Renaissance age, when a true
Renaissance man knew not only
the sword, but—stop chatting
amongst yourselves, you urchins! I
did not master the sword by
ignoring my elders! The children of
my day were civil hand-raisers
who knew how to address their
masters. For foil’s sakes, children,
raise your hands! Yes, you, in the
out-of-season blouse. “When will
we get to stab people,” you ask?
Ha! Stabbing people is not what
fencing is about. Hey?! Where are
you going? Get back here! I didn’t
go to Charleston Maxwell Private
Academy to be disregarded!
STOP SNICKERING! Alright.
Alright. All of you, in line. I will be
giving you your swords. No
stabbing…. What did I just say?
Yes, you, the victim of the
stabbing? What’s that? “Can I go
to the nurse’s office?” I don’t know,
can you? It’s may I go to the
nurse’s office, child, not can. Say it
correctly…. thank you. Please
staunch your profuse bleeding and
proceed directly there. Now, put
your feet at right angles and
spread them, bending your legs
into a comfortable en garde
position. (Go into the correct on
guard position.) Oh for the love of-I
didn’t say sit down! What?! You
can’t bend your leg?! And why on
earth is-oh, it’s in a cast. My
apologies, young man, I didn’t
realize-wait, why are you even
here if your leg is broken?! Just…
just leave. My patience wears thin
with you ruffians. Alright, now
you’ll want to take a step forward,
then dart out like a majestic
scorpion of the Sahara! Much like
this-(demonstrate). Now you try.
DON’T FACE EACH OTHER!
Face the wall and practice hitting it
with the tips of your swords. Yes,
like that. What is it, girl? You don’t
have room on the wall? Just hit
that infernal metal box over there!
(mocking her in falsetto) “Oh, Mr.
Archibald, that’s a circuit breaker!
We could cause a power outage!
Nyeh, nyeh, nyeh, do as you’re
told! Stab the metal box, girl, or
begone from this class! (Archibald
nods, then shrieks, flailing his
sword around). DEAR HEAVEN
ABOVE, I’VE GONE BLIND! THE
DARKNESS HAS COME TO
CLAIM ME! THIS IS MY
PUNISHMENT FOR SKIPPING
THAT ONE LACROSSE
PRACTICE-what?! It’s a… a
blackout? But… oh. Erm… well, if
you can find it in your hearts…
respect your elders… follow the-
class dismissed!

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!
 I Hate Disco
Third Place Winner
By: Payton V.P., Green Bay,
Wisconsin, Age 17
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: Teen rejected by her
guy finds comfort where least
expected–from her mom.

I don’t like disco. I’m sure of that.

But when I was messing around
with Ricky, I told him I liked disco.
It was that kinda, doe-eyed, sloppy
lie you tell when you’ve got cherry
marmalade in your heart about a
guy. Ricky was the bee’s knees,
even though he was a lil’ too old
for us high school girls. Mom
never liked that. She said he was
gruff and that it probably wouldn’t
last long. But, Ricky’s not as sand
paper rough as he comes off. He
told me that in elementary school
all the kids poked at him for being
short. He’d listen to disco and eat
his maple ham sandwiches with
the teacher, which made me sad.
Couldn’t you see my little Ricky
with his wide eyes and crazy raven
hair as he munched on some dry
bread next to a busty middle aged
teacher? Ricky never really knew
how to click with people quite like
everyone else, I suppose. The part
that made me ache was when
Ricky told me ‘bout the day they
served French toast sticks. The
kids roughed him up, yanno,
punches and kicks like little tykes
do, and then poured syrup into the
back of his sweater. Ricky got all
teary-eyed just talking about it.
Everyone called him Sticky Ricky.
Still do. I only called him Sticky
Ricky when I was angry with him.
Ricky was irksome, but, boy, did
he love disco. Not me. I didn’t
mind some Donna Summers and
some Bee Gee’s, now and then,
but Ricky loved it. I told him I did
too. I never really understood why
girls do that for their dopey boys. It
was just a tradition. It was a torch
passed down on the back of the
bus, along with dirty songs and the
secrets to youth. My mom would
nag at me for bending about disco.
I used to always yap and moan
about her Earth, Wind and Fire,
but that’s just what girls do to their
mothers. People tell me how much
I’m like her, and it drives me crazy.
“Lola! You’ve got your momma’s
disco ball eyes!” I didn’t want her
disco ball eyes! Or her disco ball
hair, hands or songs. When I
broke up with Ricky, he spit on my
new Mary Janes and then I blurted
out that I hated disco. My mom
picked me up that night in the back
lot of the drive in. We listened to
Gloria Gaynor the whole ride
home as I cried. I was mad ’cause
she was right. Moms are always
right. She rubbed my back and
made me feel better. I still hated
disco, but I didn’t mind it as much
in that moment.

Blue Eyes
By: Lavender Payne, Cupertino,
California, Age 16
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teenager survives
the Columbine Shooting

I always wished my life was more

interesting. I always wished
something exciting would happen,
something so big it would change
my life forever… I had only been
attending Columbine for about a
month before it happened. I really
didn’t have any friends, being the
new girl and all, so I spent most of
my free time at school aimlessly
roaming the halls, or finding a
quiet place to sit and read. I
remember that day, I decided I’d
go the library and work on
homework during lunch, since I
didn’t really have anywhere else to
go, but I had only in there for
about ten minutes when I heard
this loud noise coming from out in
the halls. These two students ran
in, a guy and a girl, and the girl
was calling for the librarian saying
that the boy that was with her had
been shot. At first I just thought it
was a sick senior prank or
something, since it was pretty
close to the end of the year, so I
just disregarded all the
commotion… but then I heard Ms.
Neilson shouting for everyone to
get under the tables. When we
heard gunshots, and screaming
ringing through the halls, we knew
it was real.
I panicked and looked for a place
to go, and that’s when I saw a
student I had never met before,
crouched under one of the
computer tables. I guess he
noticed how lost and scared I
looked, because he gestured for
me to hide with him. It was so
weird. In the midst of chaos, there
was a moment where it felt like
time had slowed down, and I got a
chance to look at his eyes. They
were this incredible shade of blue,
so bright and full of life. He gave
me a timid smile. There was a
certain kindness in his expression
that made me feel safe despite
everything going on around us.
That moment of silence was
broken by the sound of more
gunshots in the hall getting closer,
and the boy I was sitting with
grabbed my hand, and locked his
ocean blue eyes with mine. “We’re
going to be okay,” he said,
“everything is going to be okay.”
but then the doors burst open.
Everything after that felt so
surreal. Like it was all happening
so slow, but all too fast at the
same time. The voices of the two
gunmen made my skin crawl. I
shut my eyes tight and just kept
hoping everything would just go
away. Wake up Nicole. This isn’t
real- no this can’t be real. Wake
up… But it wasn’t long before the
crack of several gunshots silenced
my thoughts. I felt a sharp pain in
my thigh, it took me a second
before I had even fully realized
what happened. I reached down to
grip the source of the pain…
blood…I looked to my left, and the
boy with blue eyes had let go of
my hand, and was instead gripping
his stomach, he was bleeding too,
and he was pleading with the
shooter… begging for his life. I
tried thinking of something to say,
as if choosing the right words
would save his life but. I could
barely even form a complete
thought when– no. no, no. I can
still see it. there was just… so
much blood. I remember grabbing
his hand again, it was still warm.
but his eyes- those gorgeous blue
eyes of his- they were different
now. Empty… The room was
spinning and the pain from the
bullet in my thigh was unbearable.
I blacked out after that. I can’t
handle the sight of blood. I
remember waking up surrounded
by paramedics and police. The
sound of sirens echoed in the
distance. They lifted me onto a
gurney and this woman kept trying
to ask me questions, but
everything was just a big chaotic
blur. So much pain from the bullet
in my leg, and my head was just
full of questions. Why did this have
to happen? How did I survive this?
Why didn’t he? He didn’t deserve
this… he had a family, and friends,
and a future, he had a life. Life…
we take it for granted, don’t we? I
always wished my life was more
interesting. I always wished
something exciting would happen,
something so big it would change
my life forever. Be careful what
you wish for.

When I was Your

Age
By: Hanna Collins, Cupertino,
California, USA, Age 15
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A Chinese mother
lectures her child about how easy
her life is.

How dare you disrespect me like

that. After all I’ve done for you;
raising you, teaching you, feeding
you, clothing you- you dare to talk
to me like this? If I had grown up
with the things you have now; the
opportunities and resources that
you take for granted, I would be
miles ahead! Sometimes I think
you forget what growing up was
like for me, and what a miracle it is
that I am here, because if you
remembered, you’d never
complain. When I was your age, I
wasn’t in a wealthy little suburb- I
grew up in China during the
Cultural Revolution. I didn’t have
time to argue for a later curfew, if I
wasn’t indoors before dark, I would
have gotten carted off to the labor
camps by the Red Guard. If I had
spoken to my mother the way you
just spoke to me, she should have
whipped me with a leather belt
until I bled. Every time I see you
refuse to eat what I put on your
plate, I just want to smack you!
When I was little, I was hungry.
When I spilled a cup of uncooked
rice over the dirt floor of our
house, my mother smacked me
across the face and the whole
family spent the next hour picking
every grain of rice off the floor.
When I hear you talking about how
bored you are, I remember the
hours I spent playing with the
mercury from a shattered glass
thermometer; rolling it around my
bare hands and thinking to myself
how lucky I was to have found
such a fascinating toy. I can’t
stand the sound of you
complaining how hard school is for
you, and how not getting an A is
fine. When I was in school, if my
name wasn’t at the very top of the
exam board, I would cry for the
next two days. Hell, by the time I
was your age, I was already in
college! I did well enough in that
college to earn a Green Card and
a scholarship to Wesleyan
University. I got my bachelor’s, two
master’s, my PhD, met your dad,
and then … I had you. I remember
my father looking in every nook
and cranny of our straw roofed
house for every single cent that he
could spare to give me. And then I
look at you, spending hundreds of
dollars every time you go out to
the mall, and I am disgusted. But
most of all- most of all … I am sad.
I am sad that you look at me, your
mother, and see an enemy;
someone always criticizing,
heckling, and yelling at you.
Because when I was your age, my
mother was gone. Yes, those were
the days when saying the wrong
thing to a neighbor or too loudly at
night could be the end of you. Just
a couple of words criticizing
Chairman Mao, the leader of the
Cultural Revolution, and she was
gone. I just want to do for you
what I wish my mother could have
done for me, to teach you the
lessons that I was never taught. If
you could just look up and see me
for who I am: your staunchest
supporter, your most faithful ally,
your greatest resource. Not your
enemy. I am your mother, and I
deserve your respect.

Struggle in the Land

of Opportunity
By: Antonio Suarez, Cupertino,
California USA, Age 16
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A boy describes the
life of an immigrant worker.

No soy nada, but I want to be

someone, someone better than
what I am now. My familia came to
California looking to better
ourselves, but we always move
from place to place to look for
work on the farms. Every time we
get to a new farm we set up a tent
that we will live in. I know I`m
young, I can’t talk a lot of English,
Pero yo entiendo, but I can
understand it. Over the years, I’ve
started to realize that in life I need
to work as hard as I can just to
survive, even though we never get
paid enough to even eat. Ever
since we moved to this plantacion,
I look at my reflection in the waters
of the creek behind our little tent
and I see the dirt on my face I look
down at my worn clothes and think
to myself, why are we so poor in
the land of oportunidad? Por qué
sufrimos tanto? Why can’t we just
move into the city? When I think of
the city I always wonder what
better things could be in store for
me, I smile at that, but then I
realize there aren’t any better
chances here in this country.
Every day is the same. I get up in
the morning feeling pain from
yesterday’s strain. I get changed
into the same old leather boots
that my papá gave me. I slip on a
pair of jeans, toss on a shirt and
head off to work. Nothing changes
but I try the best I can to put on a
straight face and stay happy,
never showing my true emotion.
Today my family and I are packed
up and are ready to move
somewhere else again. The sun is
as hot as ever during these
summer days. Before we left I
looked back to the place I called
home, and looked at the creek and
the fields across from it, I turned
back to our carrito and looked at
the dirt road. Here we go again.
My papá told us that he heard of a
nice farm in Fresno that is offering
workers a place to live in a house
on the farm. My mind rushes with
thoughts as I picture a nice warm
home with bedrooms, a kitchen,
Baños, todo. I want things to
change once we get our own
house. For the first time, I feel like
there is going to be a good change
in our lives. I always make friends
on the farms, but once I get to
know them, the harvest is over
and my family needs to move to
find more work. I keep telling
myself that I will never say
goodbye ever again, it is hard for
me to say adiós. Over time I have
just stopped paying attention to
the other kids and focused on my
family, but maybe this time, maybe
this time…it will be different.

I Know I’m a Freak

By: Nadine D., Green Bay,
Wisconsin, USA, Age 17
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teen, whose looks
have been damaged in a car
accident, begs others to overlook
her “looks.”

I know that I’m a freak. I know that.

Do you think that I could forget
with people telling me every day?
They call me freak. Frankenstein.
Monster. I’m sorry that the car hit
me. I’m sorry that the doctors
weren’t concerned with beauty
when they saved my life. I am a
monster, but I’m not one of the
dangerous variety. There are
plenty who are, though. I’m talking
about the monsters who hide in
sheep’s clothing and then rip out
with snapping teeth. The monsters
who hide curled up in a beautiful
skin. People pass monsters every
day. They eat with them, laugh
with them, sit in their laps and let
their teeth near their throats. They
smile and laugh and pull people in
with dancing green eyes. They’re
wolves, they’re sharks, and make
no mistake, there’s blood in the
water. Most people don’t see what
they are under their porcelain
masks and red lips. They just see
innocent brown eyes and a slim
figure. They don’t see the scales
and claws that they show me.
They call me the monster, but
monsters like me only look the
part, and I prefer that to the false
facades and double-edged words.
I’m an honest monster. I bare my
scars and my breaks and let
people see what I am. No lies, no
false fronts. I am what I appear to
be. Others hide their pain and
insecurities behind masks and
barbs. They hide their scars by
making others bleed. And for that,
I pity them.

Apologies
By: Danielle Lippert, Green Bay,
Wisconsin, USA, Age 18
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teen, because of
her life experiences, is tired of
hearing apologies.

I’ve heard you say sorry a million

times. You say it when you bump
into me, when you don’t hold the
door open, when you don’t realize
I’ve been standing right next to
you. You say it all the time. I’ve
never heard someone say sorry
more than you have. It’s almost
like you’re always doing something
that needs apologizing for. My dad
used to apologize a lot. He’d come
home from work late with an
apology. He’d leave early with an
apology. He’d miss my game and
apologize later. My dad was
always apologizing. Until one day
he left and didn’t come back. I
never got an apology for that.
Apologies have meant nothing to
me ever since he left. You could
be deeply, sincerely, insanely sorry
for the smallest thing, and I
wouldn’t believe you.
My mom told me one day this
would all go away, and that one
day I’ll be able to look at everyone
with a smile again. That was ten
years ago, and I still can’t accept
anyone’s apology. My mom has
apologized for my dad leaving
hundreds of times. I’ll never accept
my mother’s apologies or my
friends or strangers who just bump
into me on the street. I’ll never
believe them because of what my
father did. My mom and I are
doing great, just me and her, and a
part of me is glad my father left.
I’m happy he left us. He could
come back with the grandest
apology anyone has ever heard,
and I still wouldn’t believe him.
You remind me a lot of my father.
And it’s been in the back of my
mind since you first apologized to
me. I can’t have another person
like my father in my life. So, no, I
don’t accept your apology, and I
never will.

The Test
By: Molly McKenna., Green Bay,
Wisconsin, USA, Age 17
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic
Description: A student panics
while taking a test.

The white clock on the wall is

mocking me. Counting down the
minutes until I fail this test. It
makes no sense. Hey, why aren’t
there any posters hung up in Ms.
Daniel’s room? I’ve never noticed
that before. I need something to
 take my mind off this paper in front
of me. This paper that will destroy
my GPA. I’m grinding my teeth. I
never grind my teeth. Wow. Look
how interesting this pencil looks
when I twirl it. Why is the second
hand on that clock moving so
slowly? And how is everyone else
still working on this test? I can’t
make sense of it. I read the novel,
but this question doesn’t make any
sense. Look at Hanna. Furiously
scribbling. I hate her. She knows
the answers to everything. Ms.
Daniels is reading a book. Really?
At a time like this, she is just sitting
there reading? She’s mean. Whoa.
There’s the bell. My paper is still
blank. I think I’m going to have a
heart attack. Great. Everyone’s
getting ready to go. I’d better turn
in my paper. But really, what’s the
point? It’s blank. I guess I’ll just
turn it in. Wait, what? Ms. Daniels
is going to grade our papers right
now? How can she do that? I think
I’m going to turn to stone. She’s
making everyone sit back down.
Why is she shuffling through the
papers so fast? Wait, she stopped
on one. I think it’s mine. Here we
go. My heart’s pounding through
my chest. She’s going to
announce to everyone that I’ve
failed. Wait, what? I am the only
one who passed? It was a test to
see if we could read directions,
and it said not to write anything
down? Ha! Take that, clock! Take
that, Hannah!

A Short Monologue
By: Lauren H., Indianapolis,
Indiana, USA, Age 16
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic
Description: A teen expresses the
frustrations of being vertically
challenged.

Last night my world was shattered.

I realized that my younger brother,
Colin, is taller than me. He was
like “Ha, ha. I’m taller than you,
little hobbit.” Shut Up Colin! No
one understands the daily
struggles of being short. People
use your head as an armrest, like
ALL the time. I’m not an armrest,
I’M A HUMAN BEING! People also
assume you’re like 5 or 6 years
younger than you are. When I
went to the Ferris wheel, they
asked if I wanted the twelve and
under ticket. TWELVE AND
UNDER!!!! I’M SIXTEEN. People
always feel the need to point out
how short you are. Like “Wow,
you’re like three feet tall.” NO I’M 5
FOOT ONE QUARTER, idiot.
Then they’re like “Oh, you can just
wear high heels” which is great
advice because I love wearing
shoes that make my feet feel like
they’re on fire. People also taunt
you by holding things above your
head or putting them on a high
shelf. I really want to strangle each
and every tall person but to do so I
would NEED A STEPLADDER!!!!!!

Watch a video performance of

this monologue here!

Best Friends
By: Rebecca S., Indianapolis,
Indiana, USA, Age 17
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: A teen expresses
her feelings about her best friend.

Best friend? Well, I’ve never been

much for friends. My intense
competitive spirit, social anxiety,
fear of the cafeteria and awkward
sense of humor tend to work
against me. But strangely, the one
friend I have come to entrust this
weird title was once my arch
nemesis. Of course, she had no
clue. In fourth and fifth grade
Angela had a cubby right next to
mine. She had lots of friends and
took the ‘Nicest Student’ award
away from me in the fifth grade,
and I was so angry that I
squeezed glue in her cubby, which
showed how nice I really was.
Yeah, Angela deserved the award.
She’s someone who has my back
when I say, “back me up.” She
laughs at my hilarious jokes when
everyone else randomly forgets
how to laugh. She takes me to a
world where awkward moments
don’t exist and jealousy is
something to joke about and fights
never happen (and if they do I
don’t remember them). Best
Friend? Nah. Angela and I are
more like sisters.

Emergency
First Place Winner
By: Melanie T., Westminster, CA
USA, Age 15
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic
Description: SMITHIE, 26, was
hired last week as a 911 operator
and is just getting the hang of her
job. (Spoiler Alert: she isn’t very
good at it.)

The police are on their way, stay

calm and breathe sweetie you are
going to be fine. I’ll stay on the line
with you until the police get to your
house. Are you okay? Hello? Hel-.
Oh. They just hung up. What do I
do when they just hang up? OH!
911, what is your emergency? Can
you- Could you repeat that slower,
sir? Do you have any idea of
where you are located? Cerritos
Mall… No, sir crocs are not a 911
emergency, however I do
appreciate your concern because
they truly are a real FASHION
CRIME. AAAAH FABIO is that
you?? Honey! I thought told you
not to call me at work! Alright
already, let the woman wear what
she wants okay? Let it go. Okay.
Okay, bye. 911 what is your
emergency? Mom!? Stop it, MOM,
you can’t call me at work anymore.
Yes, the breakup was fine. I told
you already. He said he still loved
me, he just didn’t want to be tied
down anymore and mom, I respect
that and we’re still friends. I know.
Yes, mom I know, I was there and
you weren’t. He just called me. On
my work phone. Look, I’m going to
get in trouble. Let me call you back
when I get home. I love you too.
Buh-bye. 911, what is your
emergency? FABIO?! Again? This
woman with crocs thing is getting
old and I have to work tonight!
Wait, Fabio? Oh my god you’re not
Fabio… I am so sorry, ma’am I
thought you were my ex, um… I
guess I could tell you if you want
me to… No. No never mind it’s a
long story. Please continue
describing. You said someone
stole your crocs? Where are you?
Hmm okay, that’s funny. The mall.
Crocs. Really? Do you REALLY
want those back? Those crocs?
Like THE ugliest shoes on the
planet. That doesn’t concern me!
Why don’t you just call the police
then? (Realizes what she said.)
Oh.

Emergency
Second Place Winner
By: Abby S., Alberta, Canada,
Age 14
Gender: Male or Female
Genre: Comedic
Description: 30-year-old Sam is
sharing a eulogy for their cat’s
funeral.

I gather you all here today, to

celebrate and remember the life of
our dearest friend. I’ve gone
through a lot this past week… I’ve
lost my best friend, my soul mate.
And it’s hard, it really is. I felt like I
knew her for my entire life. (Pause,
inner realization.) But she’s gone.
Sometimes she would know when
I had a bad day and would always
make me feel better. It seemed
like she took care of me more than
I did her. I will truly miss the
mornings waking up beside her.
Sharing our time together,
watching me in the shower, sitting
with me on the toilette. Climbing
the big birch tree was her favorite
past time. (Holding back tears.) I
would like to share one of my
favorite memories of her and I,
when I first met her and found the
love of my life, I instantly knew that
we were meant to be together, and
I told that other man that was
looking at you “Back off she’s
mine.” And it was true. She helped
me through everything and I can’t
express my gratitude for our
relationship. I will, and already do
miss her so much. (Talking to
box/coffin). Oh my Honey Boo
Bear… I loved you so much. But it
was your time. You were old. You
were ready to go. It was me – I
was the one who wasn’t ready.
Those thirteen years together
have blessed my life. Rest in
peace little Missy, my pretty kitty,
I’ll never forget you.

Every Flavor of the

Rainbow
By: Georgia E. Alberta, Canada,
Age 13
Gender: Any
Genre: Comedic
Description: An ice cream flavor
is having an identity crisis.

Hi, I’m Neapolitan. (Smirks at

audience, winking flirtatiously.) I
come from a mixed family, my
mom’s like half cherry, dad’s rocky
road. Its makes me a whole lot of
chunky, with a side of smooth.
(Looks around, pause.) What was
I talking about… Oh yeah, people
ask what my biggest flaw is… I
guess I’m just too strong. They just
can’t take all this flavor, you know?
(Gestures to entire body. Pauses.)
It’s hard for me, you know? (Tone
switches, slightly hesitant.) I have
no idea who I am. My one aunt is
certain I’m Vanilla, my uncle thinks
I’m chocolate. But I’m strawberry
too right? In the freezer section,
the flavors pretty much stick to
their own kind. Vanilla with Vanilla
and Chocolate with Chocolate.
They never accept me the way I
am. That’s okay, though. I’m going
to be myself even if they don’t
accept me. I’ll scoop out my own
sorta life. Maybe I’ll travel the
kitchen, see the counter… visit the
tower of pizza. We all need to
accept who we are, like that Miss
Strawberry chic. She’s natural,
and I respect that. Even if she
stalks me day and night. It’s kinda’
creepy… I can’t even re-freeze
without being sure she’s not
looking. But hey, at least she’s not
one of those dairy-free flavors. I
don’t buy that for a second.

Confession
By: Micaela E., Los Alamitos, CA,
Age 16
Gender: Female
Genre: Dramatic
Description: Elena confides in a
friend about a crime she
committed.

Can I tell you something? It’s kind

of a big thing, so I’m gonna need
you to keep it quiet. You know
Alex, right? Of course you do.
Anyway, we kind of, uh I don’t
know um robbed a bank last week.
God, I know! I know it’s terrible,
but I really needed to get that off
my chest. To be honest I don’t
know what drove me to say yes,
but if I’m gonna be REALLY
honest, it’s cuz Alex is REALLY
HOT. I mean what else are you
supposed to do when the most
attractive guy you know finally
gives you the time of day? Sure, it
was only to rob a bank, but I guess
I thought there would have been
more benefits to doing something
like that. Aside from the money.
Anyway, last week, Alex just
saunters up to me and is like “Hey
Elena, I think you’re pretty cool, so
uhh, wanna rob a bank
tomorrow?” and NATURALLY I
said, “SUREEEEE ALEX! That
seems like a completely
acceptable and not at all illegal
thing to do!” But who just asks
that? I mean take me to dinner
first. So, the next morning it’s like
four AM, we’re getting ready to do
the thing. I’m pretty nervous. The
most illegal thing I’d done up until
that point was J-walked. Alex
looks at me and is all, “what ya
scared?? This is gonna be a piece
of cake.” I tried to be brave and
said “You’re right! It’s not like uh…
cheating at tetherball!!” (beat) It’s
WAY worse. So, we manage to get
in without setting off any alarms.
We were in and out SO quick and
we got some good cash out of it.
Like I said though, I thought
there’d be more benefits to
robbing a bank with a guy than
cash. Turns out someone wanting
to rob a bank with you does NOT
coincide with getting married and
having kids. So, so much for
committing a felony in hopes of
getting a date.

Renouncing God
By: Macy B., Los Alamitos,
California, USA, Age 16
Gender: Any
Genre: Dramatic
Description: Camille is a young
girl who is praying to God about
her troubled family life.

(Gets on her knees and starts

praying.) Dear Lord. Please,
please make them stop fighting.
I’m so sick of it. It’s every day,
every night. From the moment I
come home ‘til the second I fall
asleep. I just want things how they
used to be: when my parents were
happy, when we were all happy. I
remember we would all l hold
hands around the dinner table and
pray. We would thank God for the
food on our table, the roof over our
heads and our wonderful family.
We would pray to YOU. But what
did you give us in return? Nothing.
Eventually, Dad stopped coming to
dinner. He would come home late
at night, drunk, if he even came
home at all. He just wasn’t the
same person anymore. He would
lash out over petty things, like
when mom forgot to wash the
dishes. He would smash them on
the counter and curse at her. And I
was always the one to clean up
the mess. I would go to my mom
and ask what was wrong she
would say it was “Nothing sweetie,
don’t worry about it.” But of course
that wasn’t true. So, one day,
when my parents were fighting, I
didn’t think it was anything unusual
because my parents were always
fighting. But this time it was
different. Mom had hidden dad’s
whiskey and he couldn’t find it. He
screamed “Where is it? What the
hell Suzanne!?” She tried to tell
him to calm down, to think about
what he was doing before he did
something rash. He didn’t listen.
He pushed her into the mantel,
and I watched it all happen. I
watched my own mother fall to the
ground. (Getting angry.) Why do
you do this to our family Lord?
What have we ever done? What
did I ever do to deserve this kind
of pain and hurt? I keep thinking
“Everything is in God’s hands. He
will fix this. He will fix us.” but you
never do. I’m scared to come
home. I’m scared one day I’ll walk
through that door and my mom will
be hurt so badly that I can’t help
her. I’m scared one day I’ll be the
one that gets hit. (Softly.) I just
want a quiet life, a peaceful, happy
life. One thing is for sure, when I
grow up, I’m not going to be like
them. I’m not going to give my
daughter false hopes about a God
who does nothing. I’m going to be
happy.

Crushed
By: Dajai T., Modesto, California,
USA
Gender: Female
Genre: Comedic
Description: A teenager
accidentally sends a very personal
text to the school gossip.

Oh-My-God, OH MY GOD! I did

not just accidentally send a text to
Sky about the fact that I have a
crush on Gaston. Oh no, this is
bad, this is really bad. I’m going to
die! Gaston is semi-popular and
he is definitely going to find out.
Why does Sky have to be such a
gossiper with her amazing looks
and gorgeous hair, although she is
still a “four eyes”, but I guess I
can’t say anything (points to
glasses). Ugh, I am literally going
to die. (Looks at phone) Oh, she
hasn’t read the text message.
Okay, Plan B, cover story, come
on think of a cover story.
Ummmm… I can text her that I
meant “I like shakes but not
protein ones. Those are bad for
me. Instead of “I like Gaston, he’s
so cute. But it is bad for me to as
him out?” I will tell her it was auto
correct. (Texting.) Please believe
me. “Oh okay I believe you.” Yes,
SHE BELIEVED ME!! …. Great,
now I’m hungry.

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