This is a piece from one of my scripts. A woman is telling her friend about the death of her father and how it affected those around him. It's probably my favorite monologue (of my own), and I'm happy to share it with you guys! ADELAIDE It’s okay. (beat) It was his fault. He was drunk. I don’t remember a day in my life when he didn’t have a bottle in his hand. It was raining one night and he swerved into a car on his way home from work. He and the woman driving the other car were both killed instantly, but her son was in the hospital for a few days. He had a crushed skull, broken bones, internal bleeding. He died in the hospital the morning my aunts were going to take me to go see him. We never went, it was too late, but we went to the funeral. They didn’t want me to go. They kept telling me I was too young, I shouldn’t be put through everything because of my father’s mistakes, but I wanted to be there. I brought his dad flowers. He didn’t even look at me, or couldn’t. Six years old, six years old and never even knew what life was before his was over. Not knowing what to say, JOHN looks at ADELAIDE as she lays her head down on his shoulder and sighs. ADELAIDE Life’s too short, John.