Monologue: To My Friend

About this Piece

To My Friend is a monologue/eulogy given by a fictional character on the death of his best friend, Thomas. Both characters met in the 3rd grade and experienced bullying in school as they aged. The death of Thomas is ruled as a suicide and the character now relives the memories of his best friend through this short monologue. The character also reveals key reasons as to why the characters were bullied and what led to the suicide. The original monologue was written in a Play-writing Course at UC Merced. As a WARNING, this piece may be a bit explicit towards the end of the monologue. Enjoy the read!

Thomas was only 15-years-old when he was taken from us. He was unique … Thomas was born and raised in this city, but his parents migrated from China many years ago. They ended up working in the fields, and wanted to give Thomas a new and better life. They wanted Thomas to better himself and eventually the world.

I remember moving from San Diego to Merced because our family was forced to relocate because of my mom’s new job. And I was terrified of this city. I was taken away from my friends and family. But my mom would always tell me that things would get better. And they did, when I met Thomas. We met on the playground in the 3rd grade during recess. He was sitting alone underneath this small roof shading his head and torso but his legs were sticking out like two hot dogs roasting in the sun. I walked over to him and asked if he wanted to be my friend. And when he said yes, I somehow knew we would be together forever. And I asked Thomas why he wasn’t covering his legs from the sun. He said he wanted to be an egg roll. Crispy on the outside, tasty on the inside. I didn’t understand Thomas at that time, I guess no one really did. But somehow, despite the confusion, it felt like I had found my other half that day. And even after years went by, we remained best friends. And when I finally came out a few months ago, he supported me. And when I wanted to kill myself because of the bullying, he snapped me out of it. He was the only one there for me and I—uh wish I could have done the same for … for him.

And I remember this special night when we were out all night long. We strolled through the streets of Merced and finally managed to get to the local Merced Park. After the long walk, I dropped myself down to the grass. I can still smell and taste the freshly shaven grass and the rust from the nearby playground. At the same time there were no sounds of sirens, helicopters, or even laughter. Just the sound of crickets, chirping. The sound of bats fluttering through the night. And the person I cared about in this world was right next to me.

And I remember that night because Thomas leaned over and tickled me. I was dying from laughter and I told him I was going to piss my pants, but he didn’t stop. He kept tickling me so I had enough. I palmed him in the face and he flew back. He stopped moving. I stood up and kneeled next to him to see if he was okay. I saw the red palm mark on his forehead. So I did what any sensible human being would do, I kissed his forehead to make the pain go away. And I leaned in for one more kiss for safety measures, but Thomas moved his head and our lips locked.

Thomas pulled back and told me he was sorry, but I leaned in and kissed him again. We sat there in the dark, slobbering each other’s faces—we weren’t very good kissers. And after our kiss Thomas told me that he knew he was gay since he was young, but was afraid of coming out, especially to me. He was afraid that I wouldn’t see him as more than just a friend, but I did. As he continued to talk, I took his hand and ran down the street. We ran across several of the newly built abandoned homes and finally settled on one. We went straight to the living room and talked for an hour or two. We hugged each other, never wanting to let go. And then we kissed … again.

And then, I found myself on top of Thomas. He clutched my back, ripping part of my shirt off. He unbuttoned my shirt and unzipped my pants. The thing is, my pants got stuck midway so we stopped for a minute to get my pants off. But then he grabbed the back of my neck, pushed it towards his face while kissing me. And then he took off his shirt, and I could see his bare body. I pushed him away and I saw his nipples were rock hard so I began to lick them. We rolled around the floor before stopping and smiling at each other. And after several minutes of caressing, kissing, licking, and slobbering, we finally made love … And after that night, Thomas and I came to school holding hands. We were together. But no one understood us. No one tried to understand us.

Thomas died 16 days ago. And I uhm … uhm … Thomas and I were together the night of his death. For several days, Thomas wanted to kill himself. I told him he had so much to live for. He didn’t listen. I uhm … wasn’t as strong as Thomas was. So when he came up to me that day about his plans to kill himself, he asked me to help. Something inside of me should have said no, but I didn’t. And that night we went to the same house we made love in. We sat there for several hours before I finally got up to tighten the noose on the rope. Thomas sat on a chair as I tied the rope across the ceiling. I wrapped the noose around Thomas’s neck as he slowly stood on the chair. He smiled at me and said he loved me … and … and I told him I loved him too … He dropped down and dangled in the darkness for several minutes before I ran out of the house. We were supposed to go together that night … but I couldn’t do it.

I’m … I’m not a murderer … I only helped Thomas get to a better place where people could finally understand him … Not in this DAMN CITY WHERE PEOPLE NEVER FUCKING CARED ABOUT HIM BECAUSE HE WAS GAY! … I’m not a murderer … I’m not a murderer … I’m so sorry Thomas … I’m so sorry … I’m so sorry … I’m sorry

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