So I had to write a monologue for one of my classes for Veterans day, but I don't do monologues so I did this! But then I didn't know what to do with it so now its on here for absolutely no reason at all
Veterans Day
Poppies. I was standing in a field of poppies. Beautiful, red flowers, surrounding me. Harmless, but they still made me remember things I had tried my hardest to forget.
I sat down were I was standing, closing my eyes. It didn't help though. I could still see the bright red of the flowers. It seemed as if that was all I saw when I closed my eyes lately. The happy memories of what were and what could have been only deepening my sorrow.
I let my head fall back as I opened my eyes, looking at the clear sky above me, the sun shining down on my upturned face. I narrowed my eyes against the bright light and fell back, crushing the delicate flowers beneath my weight. I closed my eyes again as the memories came rushing back.
I still remember his face, just as clearly as I always could, even though I hadn't seen him in over a year. I can remember meeting him, falling in love with him, having to watch him leave me, to fight in a war I didn't even believe in, then finally, the day the soldiers knocked on my door, telling me the news I was dreading and hoping not to hear.
He would always bring me poppies; ever since he found out I loved the bright red of them. That same color only reminded me of blood now, the blood of so many people who have died. Who will die. I let my breath out in a sigh as my lips curled up into a bitter smile. It's inevitable. Death. It comes for everyone, you can't escape it.
I heard a distant shout of excitement and was jarred out of my despondent thoughts. That's right. It was Veterans Day. All the people were lining the streets, watching the parade. I saw no point in it. Why celebrate the death of innocent people? It was just cruelty as far as I was concerned! I felt something running down my cheek as I lifted my hand to meet it. Why was I crying? I hadn't cried in so long the feeling was alien to me.
I raised my body off the ground and wiped my tears away. I opened my eyes as I sniffled and looked up, something catching my eye. It was a poppy. A white one, looking out of place in the sea red. I got back on my feet and closed the distance between myself and the strange flower. I bent down and pulled it from its stem, staring at its shining petals. I managed a small, pained smile as the sun shined on it.
He never did tell me why he decided to become a soldier. I didn't think about it anyway, I didn't believe in war so I hadn't seen the point. But now, gazing at the flower in my hand, I understood. It didn't matter whether I believed in war or not. It was still going to happen. Just like death, it is inevitable. What matters are the brave people sacrificing themselves to fight for what they believe in.
I finally looked up from my hand and stated walking in the direction I knew would lead me back into town, clutching the flower tightly in my hand. I whispered a single sentence that made me smile.
"I'll always love you."
(In England, on Veterans Day, people use 'remembrance poppies' as a sign of their thanks to the soldiers. White poppies are a symbol of peace and passivism.)
