Daniel

Black Balloon Monologue- Daniel
DANIEL, A 15 YEAR OLD BOY, STORMS INTO HIS ROOM. THE ROOM CONSISTS OF A BED, A DESK AND CHAIR AND A FEW CLOTHES SCATTERED ABOUT THE PLACE. IT IS MIDDAY.
Enter Daniel, carrying school bag. Tosses school bag into corner and stands fuming.
Fuck! I can't believe they sent me home for that. Isn't my fault he is a spastic.

Daniel moves to bed, collapsing onto it.

All I did was muck around! Poke some fun at the spastic. It's not like I was serious. Everyone does it, makes fun of them. It's just what you do!¦ Make fun of the Spastic Bus.
The retard! He was begging for it. Those stupid monkey ears! Besides, he deserved it. He shouldn't of got off that bus. I mean, what was he thinking, getting off that damn bus like he did? He was asking for trouble from the get go!

Sits up on his bed a bit.

It was all harmless! Wasn't it? Well the principal still had a go at me though. Said I should be ashamed and that I should respect them. Fuck! He had a real go at me, letting lose all these big words like "deviant" and "courteous". I just looked at him like he was one of the spastics too. He even said I should be more of a "diligent student" and that I should be "more tolerant of those less fortunate". Well he can kiss my...

Hears footsteps outside his bedroom and voices.

It's them, my parents. They're at it again... Talking about me as if I'm not even here. Shouts. YOU KNOW, I CAN HEAR YOU! I'M NOT DEAF. Returns to normal level. They were worse than the teachers, they always are! I didn't even get to the car before Dad started to tear strips off me. He blasted me right then and there, didn't even put the keys into the door. And when we finally got into the car, that's when it really started. "You little shit! I got called away from work just for you," blah, blah, blah. He wouldn't shut up! Called me every name under the sun and more! Mum didn't say a word. She just sat there, stunned, I guess. When we got home I heard them talking, well it was more like Dad yelling while Mum sobbed about how she thought she had raised me better! They're the same, you know. Mum and Dad. They are just the same... They both don't understand what it's like for me...

Gets up and walks to his window, the curtains are drawn.

Nobody gets what I'm going through... I guess that's what it's like for the spastics, not being understood. Trying and trying to be understood but nobody ever does understand 'em. They just get made fun of or worse, overlooked... You know, now that I think about it, we are the same. We just want to be understood... Maybe I shouldn't have picked on him... Maybe... But he is still a fuckin' spastic!