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Playing with Matches - monologue

Playing with Matches - A monologue.

You've got to learn the hard way. It's the only way to learn. I learned not to play with matches when I was very young. My parents weren't the best parents in the world, but they taught me that. It's not that I didn't learn it. But I never did have the greatest memory.

My first stepmother married my father when I was seven, two years after my mother kicked the bucket. She was a smoker. You shouldn't smoke, of course, but she did. I loved her. She didn't seem to care for me as much. I think most stepmothers are a little bit afraid of their stepchildren, don't you?

Anyway, I loved her, better than my real mum, and what I loved the most was her cigarette lighter. My dad would never let me go near lighters or matches anymore, but she didn't seem to care much. Maybe he never told her. You know how kids steal parents' smokes and hide them, to get them to quit? No? Well, they do, apparently. My stepmother thought I did that. Couldn't be further from the truth. But you shouldn't smoke, of course.

Carrying a lighter, though, that's not a bad idea.

If you ever nick my lighter, I will skin you.

(laughs)

I'm only joking. I'm joking! Don't be so skittish. Reflects badly on me, you know.

Anyway, they didn't last very long. There was money trouble, see. Letters that never arrived in the post when they should have, some things like that, and they started arguing. A lot. I've never felt so alone. I almost missed my younger siblings. Imagine that!

They weren't worth missing, between you and me. Whiny little shits got all the attention. I often wondered, before it happened, what it would be like to be the only one.

You shouldn't tell your mother that. But I was right, you know. It's so much better. I'd never enjoy not being an only child. We're lucky, we are, to get all the love, and you can tell her that as many times as you'd like.

So, to sum up: Don't smoke, don't nick my lighter, don't tell your mother what I said, and don't play with matches.

I learned that the hard way, that's the only way to learn.

Though, thinking about it, it wasn't really that hard.

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Playing with Matches - A monologue. You've got to learn the hard way. It's the only way to learn. I learned not to play with matches when I was very young. My parents weren't the best parents in the world, but they taught me that. It's not that I didn't learn it. But I never did have the greatest memory. My first stepmother married my father when I was seven, two years after my mother kicked the bucket. She was a smoker. You shouldn't smoke, of course, but she did. I loved her. She didn't seem to care for...
Playing with Matches - monologue

Playing with Matches - A monologue. You've got to learn the hard way. It's the only way to learn. I learned not to play with matches when I was very young. My parents weren't the best parents in the world, but they taught me that. It's not that I didn't learn it. But I never did have the greatest memory. My first stepmother married my father when I was seven, two years after my mother kicked the bucket. She was a smoker. You shouldn't smoke, of course, but she did. I loved her. She didn't seem to care for me as much. I think most stepmothers are a little bit afraid of their stepchildren, don't you? Anyway, I loved her, better than my real mum, and what I loved the most was her cigarette lighter. My dad would never let me go near lighters or matches anymore, but she didn't seem to care much. Maybe he never told her. You know how kids steal parents' smokes and hide them, to get them to quit? No? Well, they do, apparently. My stepmother thought I did that. Couldn't be further from the truth. But you shouldn't smoke, of course. Carrying a...

Playing with Matches - monologue
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