AN: I had to write this for a creative writing class this semester. I'm not fond of it. That's why I posted this, to let anyone else post what they think. Draco doesn't really fit in here, I know that, so please try and comment only on literary devices.

Monologue

(Draco sighs, bringing the water bottle in his hands slowly to his lips. The cap is still on. He doesn't swallow. Both arms fall to his sides as he tugs down the edges of his blue and white plaid, button-up shirt. His hands tighten slowly around the bottle and the crackle of the bending plastic echoes in the classroom. Students stare blankly at him from desks.)

My name is Draco. (His voice cracks as he says his own name.)

Mein Vorname ist Draco. My grandmother was from Germany, my mother was from Italy, and I am from Cacophony.

For my "Who-I-Am" project, I brought my best friend. My best friend is in my pocket…

(Draco takes out a pen.)

This pen is my first release. She lets me talk. She listens to what I say. Better yet; she makes note of it.

She lets me judge myself but never judges me herself. She's such a good friend, she writes down my stories in her blood. But, I always get her more. If I didn't, my friend would be dead. It wouldn't be of much help to carry a dead friend in my pocket.

I control her heart. It doesn't beat; it clicks. Mine doesn't beat either. It clicks with hers sometimes.

She sings songs against my papers. She only sings for me, though. I can hear her voice like she hears mine. She loves my voice. She cherishes it like I do her.

Her words aren't written by me. My words aren't written by me. It's all her. It's always been her and her enchanting black blood.

Though, some days even she hates me. She hates me like you hate me. She hates me in a way that tortures me and leaves my thoughts trapped, away from the spilling of her blood that can release it. It is me she fights and it is me who, at the end of the day, begs for forgiveness.

(Draco looks at the pen, caressing it as though it were a lover.)

At the end of the day, you truly are all I have. (His voice gets louder.) You're all I have. You and my thoughts and, without you, they would crumble. (He pauses, nodding as if in response to something being said. His voice is softer as he replies.) Always right... Always lovely…

(Slowly, he lowers the pen back into his pocket, murmuring "sleep lovely.") And, that was my best friend.

(Draco says this shyly, eyes on the floor as he makes his way to the back of the classroom. There is no reaction from the other students. As the lights fall to black, the teacher can be heard calling a different student up to share.)

Author Comments

I think I know now why I hate this monologue. I made the character crazy to the point where I can't identify my writing style in it. Not only is the monologue itself completely pointless, its character is hopelessly flat. I used devices that would constitute the character's voice as crazy but, other than an odd obsession with blood and pens, the character doesn't have much of a series of insane traits.

I didn't think much of it when I wrote this but, as soon as I handed it in and there lay ahead the prospect of someone else reading it, I was filled with this horrible anxiety that said the piece was far from the best. I thoroughly hate this piece, with all that I am. I wish I was the sort of person to burn a badly-written piece of work but, instead, I'm going to change the character name and post it online. I don't enjoy this piece but, I need a few more people to give me feedback on it; fan-fiction authors.

Fan fiction authors are continually critical of the stories on their sites so, their reviews tend to be the harshest. I feel like I need that critical series of reviews that can range from "It wasn't the best," to "it sucked," to keep me on track with my writing in the future. I can write clear characters; I know I can. I just have to put the proper effort in.

-Skeledog Lover