Like We Wasn't People

By Chelsea Terris

Jane is a fifteen-year-old girl who has been sent to live in a Residential Treatment Center for Mentally Ill Teenagers. The monologue below is from Act One, Scene 4, in which Jane is being questioned by a therapist.


I hate this shit. (Pause). No, I don't mean questions. I mean this whole damn place. (Pause). Yeah, I had a bad day.(Pause).

No, I can't stop cursing. God, you guys are a bunch of fags, man. (Pause). No, not like "gay" fags. Like lame asses. I just wanna get out of here, you know? (Imploring, manipulative) You could help me right? You're harder on me than the staff in my cottage. That's okay, I guess I deserve it sometimes. Maybe its good for me. But shouldn't I be rewarded sometimes, when I do good?

(Pause). How? Like you could sign my Level 2 papers, get me a later bed time, an extra phone call. If you sign, everyone else will, because they look up to you. (Tone change) Yeah, I fought her at lunch, but that's because she was in my face. It wasn't like I AWOL-ed up to route 25 like Ebony did last week. She came back in a stranger's car, did you hear? That was fucked up. (Pause).

No, I haven't seen my mom. Fucking social worker won't let me have a visit with my brothers cuz they blamed me for them being in foster care or something. Fucking lies. Mom doesn't believe me about her loverboy Rob, though. (Pause). That he forced me to, you know... you fucking study my file in bed at night! You know! Whatever. She chose fucking him and now I'm stuck here with these 12 year olds and I can't do anything. (Pause). Like normal things a 15 year old would do, like go to the movies by myself. I don't want to be here till I'm 18. (Pause).

Plan? Well, my sister lives in North Carolina by this school, where you can, like, finish high school but get college credits too. I wanna get out and live with her and go to that school. (Pause) No, she hasn't asked me yet. No, I haven't asked her yet. Whatever, I will, and she'll say "sure, come" but you people still won't let me out. (Pause). Yeah, my social worker says she's been looking into it for me. No, she's fucking useless, always on my ass about the boys. (Pause). Like, 'don't talk to the boys, they're just trouble.' I'll fucking talk to who I like. I don't want a disease, I ain't gonna be stupid. (Beat) So, here's a question: what do I have to do to fucking leave? Break an Olympic swimming record? (Beat) No, I don't know, why don't you "enlighten" me? (Beat)

What am I doing right now? I'm pretty sure I'm wasting hours of my life that I'll never get back, talking about bullshit. Yes, that is a problem. (Pause). I don't call my mom. No, I just don't. (Pause) Pissed off. I hate this shit. (Gets up, leaves, slams door).

Act Two, Scene 5. Jane has been placed in a hospital psychiatric ward after a girl at the RTC commits suicide. Jane runs to the payphone in her pajamas, panicked, and calls her mother. It is the middle of the night.


(Phone rings. Half-whispering) Mom! Mom, I know it's late, but... pick up, please? Mom? Okay, you're probably sleeping for work. Okay. I'll just tell you over the phone. I'll just explain it. Yeah. I dreamt, I dreamt about her. The girl... they must have told you. She was dead, dead like when she died. Slumped in a corner, naked, full of... full of holes. Bloody holes, all over her body, with needles sticking out of them. But her face, the eyes were open, and she looked at me like she saw right through me. So I called to her, I said "Angela, it's Jane" and suddenly her face was full of metal. All these piercings, more than the nose rings and ear holes she already had, appeared out of nowhere, blood trickling down her face... her eyes were sharp, angry, and I heard this low grumbling, almost like that sound a cat makes when it's about to hiss. Then I felt mist around my neck, and I knew, suddenly I knew, my head was... it was gone! I looked down and my body was... leaking! These little rotten holes were worming into me, the needles inching into my body. I tore at them and around my neck, I felt this mist, cool and kinda numbing. Then suddenly I heard a "pop!" and the mist was my neck and I knew the feeling was just a ghost neck, like amputees feel! (Grasping at her neck, as if trying to keep it from evaporating) I couldn't swallow! Her eyes, holes forming in my face... choking, and the trickle of blood... and then... I wish you had taught me songs when I was a kid. People sing songs to make things go away. I have no songs. All I see is her, and her mean face! Her holes!! (Sobbing, Jane screams into the phone.) Her head!!!! (She sobs and sobs.) I didn't know, I didn't know, I'm sorry... sorry...

This monologue is from Like We Wasn't People by Chelsea Terris. If you would like to read the entire play, you can purchase an electronic copy of the script for $15.00. When your order has been received, a download link will be sent instantly to your e-mail address.

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Terms of Use: You may perform this monologue as long as you do not receive money for doing so. You do not need to ask permission to use this monologue for: auditions, theatre courses, talent shows, open mics, or any other non-commercial use. However, you must acknowledge what play the monologue is from, and who wrote it. If you wish to perform this monologue, or any portion of the play, commercially, you must obtain permission. For other questions, please contact Chelsea Terris.

This monologue brought to you by The Monologue Database and These Aren't My Shoes Productions.