In this monologue from the play, “The Space That’s Left”, Alex, a 16-year-old boy, stands in front of his mother’s grave.
ALEX: You know, they say I should talk to you. Like it’s gonna make me feel better or something. But how can I talk to a gravestone? (Kicks at the dirt) You’re not even here. You left me. Left me with him. I’m mad, Mom. So freaking mad at you. For leaving. For not being here when I need you the most. Do you have any idea what it’s like with Dad now? He’s not the same without you. He’s… he’s just gone, even when he’s right there. I needed you, Mom. To help me figure stuff out. To deal with Dad. To deal with… life. But you’re not here. You’re just… not. And I don’t know how to handle that. I try to remember the good times, you know? Your laugh, the way you’d make pancakes on Sundays, how you’d listen, really listen. But it all just makes me miss you more. Makes me angrier. I want to yell at you, ask why you had to go. Why you left me in this mess. But… I also want to tell you… I miss you. Every day. It sucks. It really sucks. I don’t know how to do this without you, Mom. I’m trying, but it’s hard. Really hard. And Dad… he’s just… he’s lost too. We’re both just… lost. I wish you were here. To tell me it’s gonna be okay. But you’re not. And I’m here, talking to a stone. I guess I just wanted to say… even though I’m mad, I miss you. I’ll figure it out, somehow. But it’d be a hell of a lot easier with you here. Bye, Mom.
Please read the “Important Note” to purchase the full ePlay below:
IMPORTANT NOTE: This is NOT an immediate digital download. This is a ~10 minute play that will be available in approx. 1-3 business days after purchase, and sent to you via email. Thank you for your patience and your support of our work.
Leave a Reply