monologue

Lionel Monologue

The last time I had seen my dad, he hadn't talked to me at all. He and my mom had been too caught up yelling horrible things at each other to notice anyone but themselves. Even the maid Sandra noticed how heartless it was. I decided to run down the road and hide in a tree; I thought maybe they'd come find me, and even though they'd be mad that I ran away, I'd know that they cared enough to look for me. I'd know that they were trying. They weren't. Eventually, I walked back home because I knew dad would come home later and I wanted to see him. Mostly, I felt betrayed by my mom because I heard her say to never come back. Which is why I didn't let her in at first the day she tried to come in the dinghy with me. I didn't really think she deserved it, and I had decided in my stubborn four-year-old mind to not let her in until Daddy came home. It didn't matter to me anymore that she was trying; what mattered now was that it wasn't working. She left messages at Daddy's work every day, crying half-assed apologies on the phone, but he never called back. That day was the first day we went out to meet him. We got pickles because it was his and my favorite. Of course, he didn't come to meet us. It became a tradition with my mom and I to go out to meet him with pickles every other day, and Mom told me his receptionist must not have given him the message, that was why he wasn't here. We did that every other day for two months after that, and every time I was just as disappointed as the first day when I left my defensive post at the dinghy go meet him.