Okay, so this is something i wrote for my Drama class, it was an internal monolouge of my character in the play my class put on. I really enjoyed exploring my character through this, and got a 100% on it. So hope you think its as good as my teacher did.


Abigail Williams:

I laugh but I scream! I cackle yet I wail! Tears fall but I grin! I glare; I thrash out, lashing out. Prepare them (in a whisper) prepare them... AND scream it at the right moment, must be right (whispering) must be proper... (Jerking her head toward the ceiling and screams) "YOU WILL NOT! BEGONE! BEGONE, I SAY!" I fall; I tumble to the floor, moving my hands to my face... it mustn't get my face (A silent whisper) not my face... Ahah! I nearly grin, but I contort my face in pain instead. (She looks to the girls, bidding them to her will) And so they follow my lead, they scream too! (Wailing) Oh, it is all in my hands now, you mustn't lose it here Abigail, (I tell myself), keep it, and hold fast to it... (Looking to the ceiling, placing a hand over her mouth) "Why, why do you come, yellow bird?" (A drawling gasps, as if she is drowning) My love says something, but I ignore his words... (An internal scowl shines on my mind) he is no longer important. He too must suffer if need be... I have no such conscious to stop it (whisper) no. "My face? My face?" I yell it to the ceiling; it seems a proper placement for a bird... (Whisper) for a bird... Danforth screams, and in my mind I laugh! I've got them now! Got them around my finger... (Whisper) Got them... "BE QUIET!" I know not what the words mean for my mind is set on one thing... vengeance, vengeance against John Proctor, VANGENCE against Mary Warren! Vengeance against Goody Proctor... (Whisper) ...vengeance...

And I scream, oh I scream a bloody cry of fear and anguish as I look up into the black beady eyes of the bird, (whisper) the bird with yellow wings... it sores a little down, and I feel like I should smirk... but I do not. Instead a blood curtailing scream emits from my throat, and I feel blood in my mouth... (Whisper) my blood. "But God made my face; you cannot want to tear my face! Envy is a deadly sin Mary!" Chaos... (Whisper) chaos... Gleeful, I am FULL of glee, and I back up in feeeaaar, fear of the yellow bird. And they fallow! (Whisper) they fallow... Mary yells to me, I ignore as best I can. Mustn't lose it now... you've got it... (Whisper) got it. "Oh, Mary, It is a black art to change your shape. No, I cannot, I cannot stop my mouth. It is god work I do!" they think they can overthrow me! I will overthrow them, I will blind them to the truth and bring about my façade to blind the court, I will not lose, and I will have my power! I will have my revenge! And I plead, I PLEAD with the bird, I plead for no harm to come of me, for no harm to come of my – my girls... (Whisper) My girls... Mary yells frantically; "Abby You mustn't!" And I repeat, I repeat her words. Her words sore up through my throat and out of my mouth... "Abby, you mustn't!" And it is blank. It is blank. (Whisper) Nothing, nothing. We repeat, and repeat and repeat until our throats are dry, until they crack! Until they bleed!

And I say we must keep it, must keep it going, for a climax approaches and I can smell the bittersweet taste of fresh blood on the air, I can feel the powers of death as he circles his way into our midst, I can hear his raspy voice, and feel his cold clammy touch and I will direct him in the proper place, in the proper time. I will help him choose, I will show him I am WORTHY of his presence. And I will find comfort in the arms of the devil, I will... (Whisper) I will.

Mary falls to her knees; she has no power, and voices it so. We repeat, we repeat, and death will reap! (Whisper) And death WILL reap the souls of the living, and bring them down to hell! Proctor is pleading; it is pitiful, and I scowl. He is worthless, just like his retched witch of a wife... (Whisper) worthless. I open my mouth and let loose my power; deception. "The wings! Her wings are spreading! Mary, please, don't, don't-!" Again there is chaos! Again I feel the rush, I can smell the peasant aroma that wafts towards me, just outside of my grasp, and it is power, and it is good.

I feel the tension in the court rise; I feel that I'm nearing their breaking point. I back farther away, I'm on my knees, it is difficult and I whimper, and cry out; "She's going to come down! She's walking the beam!" Danforth screams at Mary, I see the fear in her eyes and I feel a smile creep onto my face. They all stand in horror, and I feel my heart beat faster, pumping, pumping, pumping my blood into my vanes as adrenalin sweeps through my every sense, my every nerve numbing my injured arm, and I look at Mary and she lets loose a cry of anguish as she speaks, and we repeat, we repeat: Paris begins to rant out of fear, or something other, I know not. I cut his words short and jump to my feet; I stretch out my arm in fear as I point to our visitor, the yellow winged bird. I let loose the pivotal moment, in impeccable timing. "Look out! She's coming down!" We run, we scream, we terrorise them and then, when only I am left and my girls have gone: turn, slowly, for it is time to face my victory and I can taste the spice of revenge, the salt of tears, and blood. I look to Mary, for she has conformed, I know it now, I know it. I have won... And Death has been told his task, he swoops down towards Proctor. I smirk as I see this shadow close around him, chocking him, clawing at his eyes... and when he's pricked the fleshy clear tissue, he slips into his eyes, and I see the dull look of a dead man... my lover is to die, and I could not care less. For I have wreaked havoc, chaos and in return I have received my vengeance against Elizabeth Proctor... she faces the loss of her husband, a greater loss then her own life, and I cackle inside. Mary addresses me, and runs toward me, I step forward, away from the wall, and open my arms towards her, but not lovingly... in ownership, for she is now mine, and she will do as I bid from this point forwards. I look over her shoulder, daring anyone to try and take my prise from my grasp, but they do not, and so we leave, and so I won, and so John will die, and I will live, and I have won, and death, death was under my command, and I feel the power of Satan, and I am his daughter.

Review? i know not manny people will even bother glancing at this story, so the people that do, i'd love to hear what you have to say.