At the Seams

In this monologue from the play, “At the Seams”, Annabelle, a young woman, reflects on her struggle to hold her family together as life continues to pull them apart.

ANNABELLE: You ever try to patch up a quilt that’s already falling apart? That’s me. I’m the needle, running back and forth, trying to hold all these frayed edges together. Mama’s over here unraveling, threadbare from working two jobs she hates just to keep the lights on. My little brother, Jace? He’s a hole I can’t sew shut—keeps skipping school, hanging with boys who look like trouble stitched into their jeans. And me, I’m just trying to keep my own seams from splitting.

But some nights…I sit in the quiet, and I can hear it. The ripping. Little by little, the fabric of us is tearing. You pull one thread, and the whole thing starts to come undone. Sometimes I think about just letting go—dropping the needle and watching it all unravel. Maybe then, I wouldn’t feel so guilty for not being strong enough to hold it all together.

But then I think about Mama, and Jace, and the scraps of us that still feel warm and familiar. And I keep sewing. Even if my fingers bleed, even if the quilt doesn’t look like it used to. Maybe we’ll never be what we were, but maybe…just maybe, I can stitch together something new. Something that doesn’t come apart so easily. Something that feels like home.

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