Opening Monologues Novels & Stories

At the end, the grand oak doors loom twice my height and a hundred times heavier in meaning. Beyond them, the world. When the music starts, soft and swelling like a funeral dirge wrapped in a fairytale, I close my eyes. My heart pounds once, heavy in my chest. “It’s showtime,” I murmur under my breath. The doors open. And the room gasps. Flash. Flash. Pause. Whispers slice through the air like razors. I step forward. One foot after the other. Controlled. Poised. Measured like a queen approaching the gallows. Or the throne. Depending on who’s watching.

There’s nothing here that is worth fighting for anymore. “You know what? You believe whatever story you want. I don’t just drop everything to hang out with some pretentious playboy who thinks he’s God’s gift to football. I don’t go on fancy plane rides and drink champagne, meet his horrible bitch of a mother, and then have SEX with someone who can’t take five seconds to realize his head is shoved so far up his ass he can only see SHIT!” Ophelia’s words hit me like a train, and I bend over to catch my breath, a prickling feeling taking over every inch of my skin. I feel hot, my throat closing up as my head starts pounding.

Stone walls carry sound too well, amplifying the collective desperation of a people who have lost everything and found a ghost of hope. “Kenny, Kenny, Kenny.” I stand. “Open the doors.” Several council members hesitate, glancing at each other. “Now,” I repeat, my voice a low growl that brooks no further argument. The doors swing open. Noise crashes in; a physical wave of heat, breath, hope and hunger tangled together. I step forward. The chanting stutters. “This is not a coronation,” I say. I didn’t shout. “This is not a claim,” I continued. “And it is not a sacrifice.”

Like a moth drawn to flame, I was stuck by his side for five whole years. The truth dawned on me now. A moment of warmth could never sustain everlasting love. Standing center stage, I drew a deep breath and earnestly introduced our smart microchip. The murmurs from the audience grew louder. Some shook their heads in pity. Patrick sat among the crowd, his intense eyes unreadable. At the end of my presentation, I stood there embarrassed as silence filled the air. Patrick turned to me with a scoff. “As I told you, you won’t stand a chance so long as I’m here.”

The officiant is looking at him expectantly. Oh right. His vows. Alexander turns to face Moni. He opens his mouth to say the words he wrote and rehearsed but finds himself at a momentary loss. Moni smiles at him encouragingly and he returns the gesture with a small nod, It's okay. I'm okay. I got this.

Mona has no time to think about anything; she just wants to eat, she was actually hungry just by being here, and the aroma of food is just hitting her face and making her more ravenous. “Ellon, I feel like I just fought a big battle; now I am so hungry that I can eat the whole cow,” Mona says while rubbing her stomach, which is unladylike. Both Ophelia and Mr. Reed are talking about todays’ case; they both are people, no matter where they are, will definitely attract people’s attention, even if they are in simple formal dresses that couldn’t hide their gracefulness.

I looked at the woman leaving the office where DIRECTOR was boldly inscribed in a golden plaque on the top frame of the door, she looked flustered. I walked up to the door, knocked once, and went in. Oliver Monero was sitting behind his desk, looking ruggedly handsome in a white button-up shirt with the first few buttons open, he had no tie on. He was looking at some documents and didn't bother to look up when I came in. I stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do or say. I didn't know if I should speak first or not. After a while of silence, I thought he had forgotten that I was standing there and decided to introduce myself.

"Tonight, we take back our lives! We take back our freedom!" The beat of my heart hastens.. I'm proud, scared, crazily in love, sick to my stomach, maybe all four. A terrifying, roaring wind rushes into the palace, blowing out all the fire torches. The sudden darkness leaves half the soldiers confused and on edge. A slow, deliberate clap. "Damn. What a powerful speech." Another louder clap. "No wonder you won the Oscar for best actor." Roman Sinclair steps into view, cold grin in place. "Wish you didn't disturb my peaceful sleep with all that noise, though."

"We were still talking about the scripts when it happened and she knew about the attic, she was the only one" "She was lovely", I say with a smile looking at Lola's scribble of hers and Chidimma's name on the file. "She really was". Chidimma returned the file. "Okay, let's go to your fave spot". I shake my head. "Let's go." We climbed out of the attic and she locked the door. I run down the small staircase and head to the large stage. "Fair is foul and foul is fair: Hover though you filthy air", I say the first line of Macbeth to the empty auditorium and then I look at her, she was smiling, the one that reach her eyes.

Her monolog started to be audible at the quay of her mind, thought and consideration. Not only my Pete Jupiter, now she’s also able to get the attention from my new target – Virando Augustin Kuandy. Oh, Sumico… Sumico… What a real shit and rubbish girl you are! Perhaps, I might do something in order to teach you some lessons, warning you that you can’t just snatch anything which should belong to me; you can’t just have anything I want, anything I like as easily and simply like that! Mr. Thomas Felix Onggario also sounded out his monolog at the savannah of his soul, heart and perception.