I had to write this monolouge for school. It was about what would happen after you died, or how you died or the events leading up to your death or whatever. Only read this if you are really bored.
Hah! What a life. School bored me. I could never fully trust anyone. The only time I was ever really, truly, free was when I was alone, with my head in the clouds. Literally. Somehow, I managed to keep my grades up in school. I got a major in law at Harvard. My minor was in creative writing. Between my books and work as a successful lawyer, I managed to live the good life. A well paying job, writing, a good apartment in a good city. But something was changing. I spent less time in the natural world. The world was dying, and I was powerless to stop it. I joined a conservation organization, and worked out in the field for a year. The organization collapsed, but that year, I was truly happy.
Since I could find happiness nowhere else, I turned to drink. One fateful night, three drunks stumbled into the bar. As I did with everyone, I ignored them. They started to rant, and then they started to fight. The bartender, who I almost considered a friend tried to break the fight up. The drunks broke his arm. I could not tolerate this. I reached into my jacket and pulled out a wickedly sharp knife. In minutes, the fight had ended; the drunks were dead, their blood decorating my knife. I could hear sirens. The barman had called the cops. I bolted.
I lived my days constantly hiding from the murder charges. I knew my terrible crime had several witnesses. I could only hope they never saw me again.
In my time on the run, I was able to see the world again. It was a mess. And I knew, somehow, some way; I was going to make a difference. If the world refused to see how pathetic it was, then I would shove it in its face. But how? One day, the answer came to me. In that fateful thunderstorm, I climbed to the roof of the tallest building I could find. The rain lashed at my face. Thunder boomed. Lighting flashed. I raised the steel rod I had planted there days before. My last sensation: a blinding flash of light and the distant roll of thunder.
Actually, as I fell into Death’s eternal embrace, I heard a triumphant laugh, but this laugh held a steely edge, it was cold and cruel. As if mocking the world. As if saying that it was superior. And I am afraid that laugh was my own.
Keep in mind, this is the version with the emo turned down 20%.