Delirium: A Monologue

This is the beginning monologue for a film my friends and I are working on. Essentially, I'm writing the story while they adapt it into a short film. Hope all of you enjoy.

I was walking down the streets that had once been home to the great experiences I shared with my best friend. Although, the memories were too distant now to remember; to foggy in a mind full of thunderstorms. The streets were filthy. Moss and weeds sprouting out of large cracks in the pavement. Multiple layers of graffiti crowding the brick walls, making them feel as if they would collapse at any moment, getting closer and closer to you until you had to walk a little faster to ignore the strange feeling. As my steps got longer, and quicker, the sun went down a little slower. Jogging through these streets brought back the tortuous memory of Julia’s death. How we each, ran to the end of the street after dinner, playfully racing each other, acting like children. And we looked at the stars, wondering in curiosity how they got there.

But that was over.

And I was alone. Alone in a world that seemed much, much emptier without a single person. And I know that-that one person. That very special person is very insignificant compared to the rest of the world. And how they are just another nameless face in a crowd of average people, but to me: she was my world. Without her, the world I once lived in became nonexistent. I was living in the endless void of reality. The reality that once manifested itself to create the illusion of happiness. And yes, it is an illusion. I can no longer believe that really anything true, or good really exists. But at least, I can always hope for another dream. Right? I don’t know if that is even a possibility.

I continued down the street slowing down my pace. It was almost dark now, my shadow stretched to the lonesome trail that swiveled in and out of the forest ahead of me. But before I continued down my usual path, I stopped at the bench. The bench once shared by two. The bench that be mostly made up of empty space, waiting for someone else. In a way, the bench reminded me of who I am. I had convinced myself that maybe one day she’d come back. Maybe not in this lifetime, but the next. Another world, heaven, hell, just somewhere. That hope slowly faded away, as the days got longer, the nights got colder. It was now pitch black, and no stars decided to shine tonight.

My heart leaped when I saw her standing there, at the edge of the forest. Her yellow coat just barely visible underneath the dark shade of night. But that was her, that was her. That was Julia.

My eyes darted to the figure next to her. The one with the gun, finger on the trigger ready to fire at any moment. Before  I could scream I looked myself into the eye as the silence around me erupted into the intense sound of gunfire that has echoed through my mind ever since her death.

I was all alone.

Author's Note

I'm open to any reviews, positive and negative, or a mixture of both. Just keep in mind that I am a young writer, and probably considered "clueless" by my superiors.

Reviews

[j.]

will someone be performing this monologue? if so, i have a few suggestions for you. I'm an English major by the way, so these suggestions wont be totally absurd lol

[Kyle Kanji]

Yes, someone will be performing this monologue. In fact, I will be recording my voice and layering that over a visual representation of what I'm saying. Or at least that's the plan.