The Road Monologue
I looked down at their dead bodies, as the rain-drenched my face, rolling down my cheeks. Images from years ago flooded my brain.
“Why aren’t you able to play such an easy piece properly?” my mother’s distraught sobs resounded around the room, haunting my ears. My father stood just at the corner, looking towards our direction, disappointment evident in his blue eyes.
“Are you listening to me? You’re a genius. So why can’t you play this? Do you want to bring shame to us?” Her cries were now unbearable.
“No, mother,” was my response.
“Take a break. Practice again once you’ve cooled your head,” my father finally spoke up, but there was no warmth in his voice. Just cold judgment and expectation.
“Yes, father.” I trudged to my room, shutting …show more content…
I was never allowed to have freedom. While other children played, I would be practicing musical instruments and studying the whole day. Watching the other children play brought upon the feelings as if arriving home each day was comparable to that of being in a jail cell, where I was stripped of my freedom.
It was when I was 9, that I realized that I truly wouldn’t have any freedom; I was bound by the chains that came along with the labels ‘genius’ and ‘child prodigy’.
By 12, I was sick and tired of this life, so I decided to escape. After nights of having recurring unsettling dreams, I was unable to rid myself of the sick feeling in my gut that told me something terrible was going to happen, and happen soon. Hastily, I began to pack clothing, money, and all the necessities I would need. That very same night, after making sure that no one outside my door, I began to stealthily take steps into the hall. That was when a loud shriek echoed along the …show more content…
Reaching the front doors, I shoved them open, unaware that my young-self wasn’t ready to behold the sight of two indistinguishable figures, lying on the lawn, blood pooled around them.
I was brought back to reality by the sound of sirens blaring in the distance. As the hoard of police cars rounded the corner, I became more anxious by the minute. My palms were breaking out in cold sweat, and breathing became uneven, to the point where I felt as if I was having a seizure.
With a tense look, I watched the bulky man step out of the car, handcuffs in hand. At this point, I knew that he was attempting to arrest me and charge me for a crime I didn’t commit, simply because I was conveniently there at that time and place. I sped towards the woods, my disheveled hair in my face, and my bag at hand.
The first couple of days of staying in the woods were unbearable. As someone who grew up with a silver spoon and having everything handed to me at birth, I was used to being taken care of, not the
“Why aren’t you able to play such an easy piece properly?” my mother’s distraught sobs resounded around the room, haunting my ears. My father stood just at the corner, looking towards our direction, disappointment evident in his blue eyes.
“Are you listening to me? You’re a genius. So why can’t you play this? Do you want to bring shame to us?” Her cries were now unbearable.
“No, mother,” was my response.
“Take a break. Practice again once you’ve cooled your head,” my father finally spoke up, but there was no warmth in his voice. Just cold judgment and expectation.
“Yes, father.” I trudged to my room, shutting …show more content…
I was never allowed to have freedom. While other children played, I would be practicing musical instruments and studying the whole day. Watching the other children play brought upon the feelings as if arriving home each day was comparable to that of being in a jail cell, where I was stripped of my freedom.
It was when I was 9, that I realized that I truly wouldn’t have any freedom; I was bound by the chains that came along with the labels ‘genius’ and ‘child prodigy’.
By 12, I was sick and tired of this life, so I decided to escape. After nights of having recurring unsettling dreams, I was unable to rid myself of the sick feeling in my gut that told me something terrible was going to happen, and happen soon. Hastily, I began to pack clothing, money, and all the necessities I would need. That very same night, after making sure that no one outside my door, I began to stealthily take steps into the hall. That was when a loud shriek echoed along the …show more content…
Reaching the front doors, I shoved them open, unaware that my young-self wasn’t ready to behold the sight of two indistinguishable figures, lying on the lawn, blood pooled around them.
I was brought back to reality by the sound of sirens blaring in the distance. As the hoard of police cars rounded the corner, I became more anxious by the minute. My palms were breaking out in cold sweat, and breathing became uneven, to the point where I felt as if I was having a seizure.
With a tense look, I watched the bulky man step out of the car, handcuffs in hand. At this point, I knew that he was attempting to arrest me and charge me for a crime I didn’t commit, simply because I was conveniently there at that time and place. I sped towards the woods, my disheveled hair in my face, and my bag at hand.
The first couple of days of staying in the woods were unbearable. As someone who grew up with a silver spoon and having everything handed to me at birth, I was used to being taken care of, not the