Richard Fisher's Funeral
By Kellie Powell
Drew attends her estranged father's funeral. When pressured by her late father's fiancee to forgive and eulogize him, Drew resists - at first politely, then firmly, and finally, she erupts with frustration.
You don't get it. I've been afraid of my father all my life. I spent every waking moment trying to keep him from exploding. Trying to do everything just right - and not just believing, but knowing... that one day he would kill me. That he'd kill us all.
My first memory... is the day my brother spilled a can of paint down the stairs. My parents were painting the house. Ricky thought he was helping, but it was too heavy for him, and... paint just went flying, everywhere. I held my breath. I don't know why I thought that would help.
My father put his fist through the wall. I screamed. Ricky and I started crying. And the whole time that he... the whole time, he kept yelling at us to stop crying. I couldn't. I thought he was going to kill us both, and my mother couldn't stop him. I was four years old. Ricky was two.
And I have been living in that hole in the wall, ever since.
I can't forgive him. I won't pretend. So go read "Footprints in the Sand" if it'll make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Today my father's going in the ground. Except I don't remember having a father. A father couldn't do that to his kids.
This monologue is from the ten-minute play Richard Fisher's Funeral by Kellie Powell. If you would like to read the entire play, you can purchase and instantly download an electronic (PDF) copy of the script for $5.00.
This monologue is brought to you by The Monologue Database and These Aren't My Shoes Productions.