Tag Archives: theatre

Stereotype: Chesty girls

For my Drama 3 class, we had to choose a stereotype from the long list the Drama 1 class made. Then, we had to create a monologue that portrays the stereotype as real and non-comedic.

Stereotype: Chesty Girls


You know, this wasn’t something I asked for. When I think back on it, these seemed to have come overnight in middle school. I had sexual passes made at me when I was twelve. I had grown men messaging me on Facebook asking for topless photos. That’s pretty tough on a twelve-year-old. All the girls in my dance class at school mocked me, some even bullied me-slamming me into the wall-and telling me that I stuffed my bra and was a huge slut for doing so. I was twelve. They stopped saying I  stuffed my bra when I finally gained the confidence to change in the same room as them, but I was still a slut. Riddle me that. Bra shopping was my own ninth circle of hell. The women in Victoria’s Secret would give my pity eyes because they knew I couldn’t fit anything in the store, and it’s not a real bra shopping trip without an hour of crying and two mental breakdowns where I scream at my mother. Most of the time, I wouldn’t even get a bra on the “bra shopping trip.” My brother’s friends would come over and caress my face, tell me I’m sexy, and ask for my phone number so I could send them nude pictures. I was twelve. Puberty hit me. Puberty beat the shit out of me, and I was emotionally punished for it. 


Halloween Story

Every Halloween in Drama class, our teacher walks to middle of the black box and gestures behind her to the board. The objective states that we are to write a “spooky” story beginning with “On a dark and stormy night…” in a group. Here’s how it goes: Every person has a sheet of paper, and they begin the story. Every 5 minutes, you pass the page to the person next to you. After each person in the group has written something on every story, the original author gets to wrap it up.

Here’s the spooky story that I started and finished:

On a dark and stormy night, not a creature was stirring, except for, well, the house. The house with the clangy shutters, the house with the whispered mutters, the house with a mind of its own, the house with its prophecy en sewn. On Halloween night, as everyone knew, the house came to life. My family and I flew. Flew from the house for we knew what was inside- a creature whose will you must abide. He’ll grab you from the streets and control your thoughts. He’ll control your body that’s all in rots. 

He reaches into your mind, unleashing your deepest fears and making them into the darkest version of reality that you can imagine. You can scream, but it will not affect him in the slightest. He loves to bask in the pain of others. He feeds off the pain. 

This creature has no name, but we all know him well. He’s the one our parents tell us to fear. The creature is an outcast, who has great pleasure out of mining other’s lives. I can recall one night, as I was walking home from church, I passed this old house. Just walking past it gave me chills. A rush of his cold heart swept me off my feet…I was stuck. No help. All alone, in front of this terrible house.

Your insides twist in a way no normal creature should cause. Your mind whirls to the harsh reality he has created. You can fight, but what wold that do? You could give in to his gripping wave, but that would make him victorious. What was I to do but run? Run like the residents ran. I often find myself thinking of that house. It usually happens after a stormy day, and the creature consumes my mind yet again. I have no control.