Running through the forest, twigs snagging my skin. I wake up. Juliet's at my side, weeping, she pushes the dagger through her ribs, it resists – or does she? She falls, I wake up. A trio of women surround me carnivorously, I exclaim no! I wake up. I hold my quill in my left hand, shaking uncontrollably, paper sticks to my face. People applaud me in the streets, I wish they didn't. Crowds come to watch my dream, I didn't write it for them, I just want to understand why I'm haunted so, and I'll keep writing until I do.
by Abigail Blondell (17)
St Philip Howard Catholic High School, Bognor Regis
Competition - Mini Monologues
Copyright remains with the author.