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Date Posted: 14:57:58 12/15/04 Wed
Subject: Great 2 minute monologue
Daddy’s Eyes and Daddy’s Lies
When I was little I loved my dad, I’m not sure why. He was a low life, with no job and he was constantly drunk or high, but I was to young to understand all that. All I knew was that my dad was so much fun to be with. Little did I know that was because he was always drunk or high.
I always wanted to spend with him. Every Saturday I would beg him to take me somewhere, he would always grumbled and say his head hurt, but I persisted because I was sure that one Saturday he would get up and get dressed and take me out.
The one day my dad said he would take me somewhere was my 7th birthday, he said he was taking me to a baseball game in the city. I was so happy (Smiling at memory). We were having a great day until my dad started talking to the woman sitting behind us. (Smile starts to fade) She was flirting with him the whole game, and I started to cry. I think it was because I wanted a daddy like everyone else had. One that would buy you ice creams and give your mom kisses, as you squirmed at the site in the corner. That was all I can remember thinking.
I got so mad that he wasn’t paying attention to me I turned around n dropped my Pepsi in her lap. I remember hearing her scream, and how mad she got. I was sure she would have to leave to go to the bathroom and me and my daddy would be alone again, but before I knew it my daddy was taking her to the bathroom. I got up to follow him, and he turned around and told me to wait there that he would only be a minute. I looked into his eyes and that was the only time in my life I had believed my father. I sat back down, and I smiled and asked him to bring me back a hotdog. My father looked me straight in the eyes put on a goofy smile and nodded.
(Crying) I sat there till 6 o’clock at night and then finally someone called my mother. For months after that day when people would talk about my dad leaving I would just smile and say no he’s just getting me a hotdog. I figured he wasn’t coming home eventually, but for the past 10 years I’ve kept a little hope that he’ll be wondering about me and come home or come looking for me. For ten years I’ve prayed that he would come back into my life, and now I am 17 and I still sleep with the light on just incase he comes home and kisses me goodnight.
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