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Dramatic monologue essays
Dramatic monologue essays
Essay on dramatic monologue
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PROLOGUE Rileigh’s P.O.V I couldn’t believe it. I refused to believe it. I stared down at the screen of my phone again, reading the three words over and over. Eryx is dead. That’s all it said. A simple, three-word text to tell me that my best friend was dead. I mean, I get that his brother didn’t like me. Dylan and I despised each other but we both loved Eryx. Yet, that was all he thought to send me. He didn’t even bother to call. I knew Dylan could be an ass but I didn’t think he could be that cruel. My world was spinning, I felt like I was about to throw up, and I didn’t know whether I wanted to throw my phone and start punching walls, or crumple to the hardwood floor of my apartment and cry until I had no tears left. Then …show more content…
Now both my eyebrows were raised at him. “So…?” “As kids, you would only ever wear a flannel shirt unless there was a school formal or family dinner, or something similar. Skinny jeans and a sweater is quite the difference.” My cheeks heated at the thought of Dylan looking at me long enough to actually take in what I was wearing. “Well, move a country girl to a big city and there’s bound to be some changes.” I shrugged. “Anyway, I better get going. I’ve got a few things to do.” And by a few things, I mean go to my apartment and cry into a tub of ice cream until I eventually fall asleep. I smiled down at Eryx and waved a little before looking back to Dylan. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” I said quietly and turned to walk back to my car. Just like the first time I started walking away from him, Dylan’s voice stopped me. “Mum and Dad are having a Sunday dinner tonight. Let me take you?” “It’s Wednesday. Not Sunday.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Not the point. It’s for Eryx, and Mum and Dad would love to see you.” I pursed my lips and looked at the ground. I hadn’t even thought of going to see the people who I wish had been my parents. The last contact I had with them was Christmas day when they called to wish me a Merry Christmas. They were just lovely people like
My leg bounced wildly. I had every nail on my hand bit down until they were almost bleeding. I had drank three Pepsi's and eaten two candy bars just for something to do, and we had only been waiting an hour. Sixty minutes of pure torture, not knowing what was wrong with my baby brother or if he was going to be okay.
The story of Macbeth is filled with ambition, fate, deception and treachery. Macbeth has been promoted to be the Thane of Cawdor and decides he wants Duncan dead so he can take his spot as King. This eulogy takes place after the slaying of treacherous Macbeth. I will be acting as Malcolm, his son.
...d in so many bruises it resembled a pepperoni pizza, and I looked like a needed a skin graft for all the mat burn on my face. My whole body was so sore it felt like Jon Bon Jovi had taken my muscles, used them to string a guitar, and then performed a ten minute solo with them (touch). It felt strangely satisfying though, like I’d emerged victorious from an epic battle. My confidence was no longer a figment of my imagination, and I was psyched for the upcoming season.
when she comes in as well as deep in thought. He is 'sullen' as when
It was nearing “ten o’ the clock.” when the event occurred, I was parading myself around the celebration, looking for my darling master whom I love. Dearest Cassio, in all his glory, was beyond a group of soldiers from the cypresian fleet, discussing deeply with Iago. Cassio and Iago were enthralled in speech about Senator Brabantio’s only daughter, Desdemona, My love had deemed her as “a most fresh and delicate creature.” I sighed at this phrase; Cassio had never shown adoration to me, his loyalty Bianca. I know it is not my place to approach a group of men in power, so I stand only close enough to hear their voices and watch so I may wait for the perfect time to declare my longing for Cassio in privacy. I can smell the bittersweet
The door swings open and Yuri stalks into the receiving room. He’s a mammoth of a man and his shoulders are nearly as broad as the door frame. The moment I see him I shrink in my chair and weep into the handkerchief. Yuri tries to smile kindly at me but his eyes narrow and it gives him away. Good, I think. He’s cruel. That means I won’t have to feel bad when he’s
You’re seated on the bathroom floor; the door is locked and tissues are everywhere. Eyes were getting puffy, like balloon that’s about to explode due to the amount of pressure. You’ve been having problems; your parents not caring about how you feel, your friends treating you differently and none of the teachers seem to notice. Your hand is clenched onto the phone and you thought of the hotline, and tapping sounds arise.
“What should I do? Maybe if I tell them I really don’t want to move to California they’ll change their minds? Maybe it’s too late to change minds since we're already here? Why did we have to move so far?” All these thoughts were popping through my head as I stepped onto the plane, “We’re we really doing this? Were we moving to California?” I keep on thinking about all these things. “What was gonna happen tomorrow at school?” My thoughts were like a highway. The cars were each of my thoughts and the cars were zooming by me over and over again. All I think about is what lies ahead. Tomorrow was my first day at school and I felt like I was gonna puke.
The sky was blue, the birds were chirping, the temperature was in the mid 70’s and me and my three besties, Makenzie Dwight, Erin Roberts, and Gwendoline or as we like to call her Gwennie Jules were walking to school. “Today, someone is gonna shadow me,” Erin said in her
This is the monologue made by Lady Macbeth before she goes to kill him in Scene I; which she never does as Macbeth does it instead. This text could be interpreted a number of ways; one could be that of sheer malice and forethought, where Lady Macbeth is the cunning and dangerous mistress that she is. Another view of the events could be that Lady Macbeth is scared, rightfully so as she is going to kill the King; but nevertheless, she is not as ruthless as she may seem on first impressions.
“She was a lovely lad, beautiful. I didn’t want this for her. I only wished nothing but happiness for her. I hope she’s happy where ever she is now, with her young Romeo. The tales she told me about Romeo sure did make her happy” she told us with tears.
was. Alas, not even my echo called back to me. The dust had picked up in the last few minutes and it filled my ears, my eyes, my nose, my throat. It was absolutely everywhere. I just wanted to hear my father’s orotund voice, or my mother’s soft, songly call. I shut my eyes tightly, the dust
"Hey, ladies," Dylan greeted. From the car, I could see his casual attire and his unruly, tousled hair. I have to admit, Dylan is a looker. Whenever we would all go out, we 'd see a bunch of horny females whispering to their friends telling them how hot he is and trust me, he is super oblivious to all of
I grabbed my belt and held it up to my neck as I stared at my empty closet. I felt like no one loved and cared for me, and how my life was wasted on someone who was pure trash. In my mind, the last people I wanted to talk to were the closest friends that I have and say to them that I loved them, and thanking them for everything they have done in my life. My phone was playing a song called Pursue by Hillsong. Hearing those lyrics “Show me what I don’t know” and “Through the fire I’ll persevere” made my eyes flow with water and my mind went crazy as I did not know what to do.
When discussing the poetic form of dramatic monologue it is rare that it is not associated with and its usage attributed to the poet Robert Browning. Robert Browning has been considered the master of the dramatic monologue. Although some critics are skeptical of his invention of the form, for dramatic monologue is evidenced in poetry preceding Browning, it is believed that his extensive and varied use of the dramatic monologue has significantly contributed to the form and has had an enormous impact on modern poetry. "The dramatic monologues of Robert Browning represent the most significant use of the form in postromantic poetry" (Preminger and Brogan 799). The dramatic monologue as we understand it today "is a lyric poem in which the speaker addresses a silent listener, revealing himself in the context of a dramatic situation" (Murfin 97). "The character is speaking to an identifiable but silent listener at a dramatic moment in the speaker's life. The circumstances surrounding the conversation, one side which we "hear" as the dramatic monologue, are made by clear implication, and an insight into the character of the speaker may result" (Holman and Harmon 152).