Cold Blooded Murderer Monologue
|Cold Blooded Murderer by Elisa Thompson|
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You want to know, I suppose, what turns a nice little girl like me into a cold blooded murderer. You want the truth? You want to know why I did it? Why I killed all those girls? It's because I like it. I don't expect you to understand what it's like. You have no idea. To hold someone's life in your hands. To be in control.
There's always that moment of acknowledgement between a killer and their victim. That instant when she realizes your power, and she looks at you and you look at her, and she pleads with her eyes. She begs for mercy, for her life. And you have a split second to decide: To save her, well that's great. You could give her her life back, give her back to her family and friends, the people that love her. But to kill her... That's something different. To remove her from this earth, to take away the thing that most value above all: Her life. Now that's real power. None of these girls deserved their lives. Look at them! The musician, the actor, the writer, the dancer, the artist, the model. None of them appreciated what they had. They were the best. And that meant nothing to them. I've never been the best. Always smart, but never the smartest. Pretty, but never the prettiest. Talented, but never the most talented. But despite all this, I always thought I was special. I thought there was something inside me, lurking within, that would make me great. I've never been content with the idea of simply living my life, dieing, and being forgotten. That's just not me. I want to be remembered for my achievements. And I will be, won't I? sure, you're disgusted by what I've done. You're horrified, you think I'm a monster. But I can guarantee that you're not going to go home to your boring lives and just forget me. Oh no. I'm willing to bet I'll be on your mind for quite some time.
I used to think I could find other ways to be recognized. I wanted to be famous for a while. But then I realized how stupid that is. People would want to be me, without really knowing what that means. Then I thought of being a lawyer... Me! I thought, 'if I save lives, people will worship me.' But I realized, not long ago now, not long before I killed for the first time, that saving people isn't enough. I could save the lives of one hundred people, and they would be grateful, and so would their families and friends. But what about everyone else? They'd see me on the news and think, 'Huh. That's nice.' Then change the channel to something else. But what if I killed just one person . and not just kill them, brutally murder them. With my bare hands, staring them right in the eye. Not for revenge, not for personal gain, because I like killing. People would pay attention then. The whole world would stop, with me in the center. Everyone looking at me.
And I know what you're all thinking. I can see the looks on your faces. You think I'm just an attention seeking little kid, but I'm not. I just want someone to notice me. All my life I've stayed in the background. There's always been that one student who gets better marks than me, That one teacher who makes me feel stupid, that one friend who always shuts me down, that one parent who's not interested, that one sibling who overshadows my achievements with theirs. And nobody even cares. I just want you to think. And don't act like this doesn't apply to you, sergeant, cause it does. You're just the sort to do it. You've done it to me... Next time you're going to put someone down, point out their faults, make them feel stupid, be-little them, think about me, then think about them, and what they could do to you. How much would you respect them if they had their hands around your neck, and they had the choice: To release their grip on your throat, or to just keep pressing. Think about it.
Published with permission from Elisa Thompson.