Monologue

This was a little in-class exercise where we were given a few aspects for inspiration and had to create a Monologue inspired by them. It is quite unlike anything else I have written and I really enjoy it because of that.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There’s a small, dimly lit room. There’s a girl, sitting at a vanity in the farthest corner of the room, who is nineteen years old and named Aubree. Aubree has sleek blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. She’s looking into the vanity as she applies makeup. First, black eyeliner around her sparkling blue eyes and a bit of black eyeshadow around her eyes too. Then, some shiny bubblegum pink lip gloss. Another girl enters as Aubree sits there and asks if she’s ready to go. The girls are clearly friends. Aubree, sitting at the vanity, begins to talk, still looking in the mirror.

AUBREE: You’re going to think I’ve lost it, but, well, I’ve been thinking. I was sitting here, putting on my makeup like I usually do, and then I just got to thinking; Why? Why am I spending so much time sitting here putting all this-this stuff on my face? It’s so ridiculous when you really start thinking about it. I’m sitting here putting on all of this stuff so that what? Some guy can think I’m pretty? Why do I have to put stuff on my face to be considered pretty, anyways? Why do I even care if someone else thinks I’m pretty, why do my looks matter? My looks don’t show who I am inside. No one's looks really do. And on top of that, everyone defines pretty differently. What’s pretty to one guy isn’t to the other and vice versa. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Y’know, I gotta tell you something. I’m not as confident as I act. I doubt myself all the time. I doubt everything. Everything is so fake, so artificial, it terrifies me. I’m terrified that I’ll fall in love with someone who finds me pretty rather than someone who likes me for me. Hey, you know what’s funny? Everyone’s always throwing around that quote “don’t judge a book by its cover,” yet then they go around judging everyone they see by their covers, their exteriors, not by their personalities, not by what’s inside. It’s really hilarious, if you think about it. It's hilarious how messed up everything is. I’m sitting here, putting on makeup, putting on this artificial stuff to cover up who I really am because I’m scared, just like everyone else, that I’ll be judged by my looks rather than by who I am. God, it’s so pitifully sad. This world is so sad. Ugh, hand me my mascara, will you?