House On Mango Street Monologue
It was early summer when my uncle and his wife came over from Australia. I and my uncle had always gotten on quite well, we have always had a connection, so when we found out in spring 2013 that he had a very dangerous form of cancer we were extremely worried about him. Before he moved to Australia with his wife he once had a job working in an old factory in town, the moment he said that I knew exactly which one he was on about, I had been in it before but not for a while. It had been abandoned and relinquished for the past 40 years, but from the rumours that I had heard there was asbestos in the basement and if it were to be knocked down the whole town would be covered in it so it could not be knocked down. My uncle seemed interested in seeing what happened to the old place so I arranged a trip with 3 other friends to take photos and videos inside of the place
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Graffiti sprawled on the wall like blood on a crime scene and a partly destroyed staircase upward. It was apparent that this was bit was not the factory but an old house conjoined to the factory. This house back in its day was a beautiful grand house, but now it was like a crack den.
“Careful, you don’t want to slip, trust me.”seab said quietly.
Almost all the floorboards had fallen through and old wooden doors were placed on the floor to be walked on, only being supported by rotting wooden beams. There was a burnt out ladder that would have taken us right next to the entrance of the factory (if it was still intact) but we had gotten out of the house that looked like a crack den and next to it a mostly demolished house stood. Only a wall shielding us from the church/graveyard and the remains of a roof stood. Luckily the roof sloped downward dramatically and we used the mostly destroyed roof as a ladder.
Soon enough threw a small sized opening in the wall, we were in. The room was a large industrial scale size.
“This is a lot bigger than I thought it would be…” said
Graffiti sprawled on the wall like blood on a crime scene and a partly destroyed staircase upward. It was apparent that this was bit was not the factory but an old house conjoined to the factory. This house back in its day was a beautiful grand house, but now it was like a crack den.
“Careful, you don’t want to slip, trust me.”seab said quietly.
Almost all the floorboards had fallen through and old wooden doors were placed on the floor to be walked on, only being supported by rotting wooden beams. There was a burnt out ladder that would have taken us right next to the entrance of the factory (if it was still intact) but we had gotten out of the house that looked like a crack den and next to it a mostly demolished house stood. Only a wall shielding us from the church/graveyard and the remains of a roof stood. Luckily the roof sloped downward dramatically and we used the mostly destroyed roof as a ladder.
Soon enough threw a small sized opening in the wall, we were in. The room was a large industrial scale size.
“This is a lot bigger than I thought it would be…” said