Not even worth a Penny. - A dramatic monologue based on a troubled 15-year-old.

Not even worth a Penny

An extract from the short play by Isabel Hendy.

It is a Monday afternoon. Penny is a 15-year-old schoolgirl. She sits on the floor in her room, against her desk. She stares downwards at the floor and plucks an elastic band from her wrist.

Penny: I would have Maths now. Mr Elliott would be clicking his fingers in front of my face, and raising his voice, doing his utmost for me to actually finish the first remarkably complex question that floats on the whiteboard. I am glad I am not there, in that lifeless, insipid classroom. But then again, here is no better. And yes, I do often miss lessons. Sometimes whole days of school.  Not worth my time. I just walk home. I like walking. Surprisingly, it's one of the things I do like, it gives me time to cleanse the deep, dark and vicious thoughts in my soul. 

[Penny fumbles for a glass bottle under her desk. She grabs hold of it, unscrews the lid and takes two, long gulps. She hides the bottle back under her desk. Her voice now sounds empty and emotionless.]

Oh, Father. Where art thou on this fine afternoon? Evidently not here. At the pub perhaps? Again. Well, at least you've got something right. Mum told me you don't work anymore, well that was predictable. You can't even communicate with your daughter; let alone hold down a job.

What's my name Daddy? Do you remember? Well, it's Penelopé, and my body and mind is deteriorating just as fast as yours. I lose my mind every day. Just like you do when you finally come home. Just when you place that cold, forbidding glass to your broken lips that no longer speak words of love and affection, letting the alcoholic liquid flood through you like poison. I get it though, Father, it numbs you. Numbs you from feeling and reality. That's how I feel too.

I refuse to converse or make contact with people from now on. They all lack humanity. Just like Mother and Father, they all possess a deficiency in tolerance, understanding and compassion. I have constructed two-and-a-half locks on my bedroom door, so I hope these lesser beings can grasp the idea that; a) no my bedroom is not a communal coffee club, where you can just walk in and expect me to talk or even look at you, and b) if you have got anything to offer me, no I actually don't need your help. So thanks for offering. Oh wait... you didn't. I was just imagining that people actually valued my presence on this planet.

[Continues to pluck elastic band from wrist. This time, she plucks harder so it leaves marks on her wrist. Her voice is starting to sound softer and more relaxed than previously.] 

So there's this girl. She's kind of, intriguing. I know I said I refuse to communicate with human beings, but this girl isn't human. And besides, I don't think I've ever actually spoke to her. Okay, maybe once, when I asked to borrow a pen. But there seems to be an ominously recurring event here... she doesn't notice me, no one does! Oh how I long to talk to her, not anyone else by the way, no I don't want to talk to my Mother or especially not my Father. I don't want anyone in my life. Apart from her. That girl.
And I know what you're thinking. No, I don't fancy her, or think she's attractive. I'm not attracted to girls. But her...

[Retrieves the bottle and takes a few more gulps and returns it. Her voice starts to sound angry.] 

If she doesn't talk to me what does she expect me to do?  I don't know why she wants to hurt me. Just like everyone else. Well maybe I want to hurt someone, so they feel how I feel. It's just so unfair. I don't want to cry anymore, and taste the bitterness of my tears, I don't want to drink anymore, and feel the toxin soak up my anxiety. I don't want to eat anymore, and feel as if my body is making poor use of the nourishment that I've been given. I am a poor use to this world. But soon... someone will feel like me too.

An exceedingly critical current-society take on a review of a person that so happens to actually be myself.

A REVIEW


Attention: Please do judge this person from what is written in this review... it's what you were going to do anyway. Right?

Define: Isabel Hendy - Fairly ordinary, sparsely good-natured, a little uninspiring, yet very susceptible to emotional harm, featuring immense fabrication from itself and just slightly judged by society.

The Review: The evaluation of her has been exceedingly strenuous to construct. I believe each young person in society currently, is quite remarkably perplexing. I know it's cliché, but she definitely wears her heart on her sleeve, everything she feels, she shares, revealing her innermost feelings that touch her heart and soul. I think it is more than ridiculous, as now-a-days you cannot trust or rely on anyone, especially people like me. People will always have something to say about you and everything you say and feel.

'Adventurous' and fairly 'ambitious', she is; with wanting to leave the UK and live and work abroad, develop her love for 'languages' and 'cultural awareness'. A passion for 'wide diversity', 'self-assurance' and 'optimism', she says, while this definitely is not always apparent in her own personality. I think she believes she can speak fluent German, which however is not the case, and we all think she gets ahead of herself when speaking with her so-say immensely accurate German accent. Actually extremely irritating. Aside of this, I don't think she really belongs here, not with all this oozing passion and ability to move on from just Bristol, explore and learn new places, people and things.

She is 'accepting' and 'appreciative', but only of anyone of similar ideas and feelings, which I believe is most absurd, and actually seemingly hypocritical, while she believes in 'wide-diversity', and wanting everyone to embrace their inner differentiation from another and to express themselves in any way they feel inclined, albeit music, fashion, poetry or anything else. I think all this is utter nonsense, to make herself sound a more in-depth and thought-provoking character, which by the way, I actually think she is not.

'Sociable' and 'communicative', two traits that I do think actually describe her, as I do see her willing and able to socialise with a range of different people, and she clearly enjoys it, because she just, Doesn't. Stop. Talking.
Sincerely enjoys the sound of her own voice, I think.
Moreover, she apparently 'adores' fashion, as I think it is another way for her to express herself, aside from talking - an awful lot. Don't get me wrong, I am not saying she is creative, but she can wear some nice things, but it's only because her Dad is rich. Exceptionally spoilt, is she, and it doesn't do her any good or make her a better person in any way shape or form. It rather makes her quite swollen-headed and egotistical, which is how people see her, I therefore do sincerely agree with this, not someone anyone wants to be in the company of.

After long deliberation and and careful consideration, I have decided that I genuinely do not value this individual, someone quite so ambiguously infuriating and temperamental cannot and will not succeed in anything in life, and for that reason...
 I am evaluating her at one star. Nothing worth talking about, at all in fact, so don't waste your precious time with her. I am telling  you.

Written by: An anonymous journalist.

Idiolect - Something so distinctive and personal to you. How would you describe your idiolect?

I D I O L E C T 

I do not think that I speak with a particularly strong Bristolian accent, despite being born and brought up here in Bristol. I don't really find it particularly attractive - or professional in some situations - so I do tend to avoid speaking that way. However, this can actually be quite difficult, as the people I interact with on a daily basis including a wide variety of friends, family and acquaintances, do hugely influence the way I speak and therefore occasionally, my accent may be stronger and more apparent.

I do know that I use a lot of fillers in my speech, and there is one that I use the absolute most - 'like'. I estimate that this word will pop itself into almost every one of my sentences - evidently, it is at the very top of my mental vocabulary list. I do think that I mainly use this word out of habit, however other fillers I use for example 'um', 'basically' and 'so' among others, I may use more frequently when I'm speaking spontaneously.

One word that really makes me squirm is 'moist', the way the 'oi' sounds blends with the 's' and the 't' really agonizes me. What I also find extremely unconventional, is that the word can be associated with your favourite food but also with other things that are definitely not food related... ugh. Foetus is another one. Please tell me who created that word and what they were thinking when they did?! It sounds so alien-like and similarly, I do avoid using that one too.

When answering the phone, my voice actually reaches a higher pitch that I thought I could ever reach. Okay, maybe a slight exaggeration, but the pitch does actually increase, without me particularly pre-meditating it. Obviously, taking the usual approach of answering 'hello?' when I pick up, is very original but however putting a more-than-needed emphasis on the second syllable. I think I do this because it makes me sound more friendly and approachable... although I don't actually think about that when I actually say it, actually.

I do have quite a few conversational habits, probably exceedingly annoying to some. If someone is sharing their feelings with me or explaining a situation, I do ask questions or agree with that person. In addition, I always make 'mmm' sound when someone is speaking to me. It most likely is quite irritating, however I do it because I feel it reassures the speaker and also so that they know I am listening. As of recent; there is one phrase that cannot seem to stop cropping up in my mind. When I am explaining something to someone, I will ask, 'do you know what I mean?', I say it extremely fast and I know it actually can be quite annoying. However, I do think I ask this to make sure that the person is connecting and engaging with me in the conversation.

I believe my voice is actually quite low pitched for a typical female of my age group. In some situations it can be softer and more relaxed and sometimes calm, although in others, maybe when I am feeling slightly stressed or uptight, it can be high-pitched, or my speech may be faster.

An idiolect is so personal,  billions of different varieties...

I S A B E L