Color Me Yellow, Angela

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Play Color Me Yellow
Author Melissa Kiplagat
Role Angela 

Angela: Last month I was cutting those……GOD what are those called (she is frustrated she can’t remember)……those green leaf things.

Doctor: Spinach?

Angela: (shouting) NO NOT SPINACH. I KNOW WHAT THE FUCK SPINACH IS. IT WASN’T SPINACH YOU FUCKING IDIOT.
(she looks at him unmoved and realizes her erratic behaviour and calms down)

Angela: Anyway I’m cutting these green whatever they are, and I’m cutting and I’m cutting and before I know it im just staring at the knife. And every time it cuts through these greens so easily it just makes me a little bit more and more excited. And I just cant stop staring at this fucking knife. Cut……cut…..cut. And then I start to imagine how it would look if it was cutting into flesh. And I don’t even think I’m conscious doing it but I start taking off my shirt in the fucking middle of the fucking kitchen like a fucking lunatic and I start moving it over my stomach. And I’m fucking liking it (she is so disgusted by herself). How fucked up is that? And the deeper I press the knife in the more excited I become. And I’m getting sexually excited like those FREAKS you hear about who like that demented shit. And Michael walks in the room and sees what I’m doing and the look of disgust in his face (its breaks her heart)…..he told me it was fear but I saw it. I saw his fucking disgust. And I don’t even notice the blood until he calls Jennifer (spits her name out. she hates her) and she comes in and starts screaming like the drama queen she is. And I look down and there it is all over my skirt and hands. (laughing) And you want to know the sickest part. You wanna know? There were two drops of blood on the floor and all I wanted to do as they dragged me out was to get one more drop so I could make a smile. HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT! JESUS HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT?!!! I’m fucking bleeding from cutting up my stomach and all I can think of is making a fucking smiley face with my fucking blood. (laughs)

Angela: This is going to kill me. Yup I’m sure of it. (all of a sudden emotion is gone. She is almost jolly. Hands behind head lounging) And I don’t even know if that a bad thing anymore.
(her smile fades and we see fear and despair as she looks at the ceiling.)

Posted in Author, Dramatic Female Monologues, Play, Role | Tagged , , ,

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