Monologue Of William Thornhill

(Looks at camera zoned out thinking of William Thornhill and his child) The boy grew up with William Thornhill, the person I hate most in this world. He looks like what Thornhill would’ve looked like when he was a boy. (Pause) But I can still help him, for he hasn’t turned into that gutless maggot Thornhill, he can still be helped... (Pause) He’ll never make up for what I had lost though (Pause) My family (Pause) All of them... Murdered in cold blood by this boys’ blood, when I look at him I’ll just think of Thornhill... although I can change that.
(Sits calmly) Next time I see that maggot Thornhill, I’ll kill him for me wife and kid. (Points at window) (Yells) I’ll stab him in his filthy heart and eat it in the name of me wife and me kid! (Calms down although anger builds throughout sentence) I would do anything to get me family back… anything. But I know I can’t, the only thing I could’ve done was take

He’s as mad as that psycho Sullivan. If he’s normal at any sense of the word, he’ll be awake at night hearing the screams of the children and women, he’ll see them everywhere he goes, the memory of his slaughtering people who ain’t done nothing will be in the back of his mind, for the rest of his life. (Sad) I know because that’s I hear their screams echoing in the back of my mind, with every moment I’m not distracted, I’ll be thinking of them all, every time I think of Thornhill a flame will light inside of me, and every time I think of the people I loved dying at the hands of Thornhill, the flame will be put out by sadness. (Slows pace) Last night I dreamt, I dreamt that I was watching children, women and men be murdered by white savages, although I couldn’t do anything, as I was in a cage (Pause) It didn’t feel like a dream, and it felt like it went for hours, I woke up in a puddle of my own sweat and gasping for air. (Looks down in a depressing manor/rubs