Monologue

This is a monologue I wrote for Drama Club a while back. It's originally in hebrew, I did my best to translate it:

Don't look at me, and decide you know who I am. Don't see my ironed hair, my black eye shadow, my clothes, and think you have any idea what I'm going through in my life. Because you don't. How can you know that the only reason I blow up my eardrums with metal music is to drown out the shouts from home, echoing in my head all day, every day. How can you know that I hide behind a fringe that covers my eyes is so you won't see the tears? How can you know that I wear only long sleeved shirts to hide the cuts and bruises? You can't. And that's why, when you see me, sitting alone at school, you immediately think "There's another Goth freak", and don't think twice before you look away and keep living your stupid lives.

And what I can't get is how can you keep droning on about your miserable little problems. "My best shirt was ruined in the washing machine!" "My boyfriend dumped me!" "I failed my math exam!"... Just get out of the perfect bubble you live in, because you can't even begin to comprehend real problems. A real problem is waking up every morning, and being disappointed when you find out your life isn't just a nightmare you can wake up from. It's running away from home and sleeping on a bench for two days, because at home? Nothing good is waiting for you. It's being scared, terrified, every second of every day, that someone suspects what's going on in my house, that someone will tell. That can't happen.

So what I'm trying to say is.. not everything is as it seems. At least not in my case. And if you rely only on what you see? Then there's probably someone out there with slightly less tolerance than I have, that's sick of everything. Sick of life. You can think for yourselves what he'll do with that feeling.

Actually? That doesn't sound like such a bad idea.