Looking for original monologues for children? Drama Notebook holds a monthly Monologue Contest open to kids and teens from around the world. Each month, we choose winners and publish many of the entries we receive.
Check back often to see new entries, and consider entering your own student’s work!
*While the monologues in this collection are FREE, they are copyright protected. This collection, or any part thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher (Drama Notebook). The monologues may be performed in educational and audition settings. For commercial rights and other inquiries, please contact us.
Third Place Winner!
By: Jordan E, Age 11, Ontario, Canada
Description: A leprechaun hates his job.
It’s lonely here at the end of the rainbow. All I do all night and day is guard this pot of gold. No one told me when I took this job that I’d be here forever and ever. With no one to talk to. No one to share my strawberry jam and cheese sandwiches with. No one to play balloon stomp with. Oh yeah, I get the occasional butterfly or ladybug stopping by, but they only like to talk about flowers, and let me tell you…petunias and daffodils get boring after hundreds of years. If only someone would find this pot of gold. I see them headed straight for me all the time, and then they veer off in the wrong direction. I shout, “Hey, over here! It’s right here!” and they look through me as if I’m invisible. If it weren’t for the King Leprechaun threatening to turn me into a bridge troll if I ever quit, I’d walk away from this stupid pot of gold right now. Wait. Here comes another one. “Hey! Over here!” Uh oh. It’s Bigfoot again. No. Not over here. (Hides behind pot of gold. Whispers and points.) No, go that way. That way. There’s nothing to see here.
Elves on Strike
First Place Winner!
By: Jeremy K., Age 12, Idaho Falls, Idaho, USA
Description: The leader of the elves union rallies the elves against Santa.
As the leader of the Union of the Order of the North Pole Elves, I stand here today and urge you to say no to Santa! No more working from sunup to sundown without so much as a snickerdoodle break! What does Santa think we are, robots? No, we’re elves, and we have rights! Tinsel, remember when he made you clean Dasher’s stall after he got into that barrel of chocolate? Cleaning chocolate poo is not in the elf job description! And Snazzy, there was that time when he ordered you to let Mrs. Claus use you as a mannequin for the little girl’s dresses she was making. Humiliating! I mean, what the falalala was he thinking? I mean he makes us wear these ridiculous Pinnocchio outfits and sing while we work, while he sits on his big fat butt watching the weather channel. And on Christmas day, he takes ALL the credit. (Imitating children.) “Mom, Santa came! Ooooh, look what Santa got me! How did he know I wanted this?” Listen up children of the world: Santa is not the one who made your train sets, and your dolly houses and your walkie talkies. It was US, the Elves of the Order of the North Pole. We did it all. Santa is just a lazy guy with a wiggly belly who works basically one day a year. Nothing but a gloried delivery man if you ask me! (Pauses. Listens to someone in the audience.) What’s that? Santa is where? (Looks behind him.) Oh fudgesicles.
Second Place Winner!
By: Kielle W., Age 16, Chesapeake, Virginia, USA
Description: A teen wishes to overcome his/her fears.
I’m in the bird watching club at school. I’ve adored the little rascals since I could say the word. I even memorized the state bird for every place in America! They’re just impossible not to admire. Birds are so much freer than any person I know. There’s no one to hold them back and tell them what not to do. Birds aren’t stuck in moldy, rundown apartments. Birds don’t stop themselves from flying wherever they want because they’re scared. No, I imagine that birds are brave. Much braver than me, that’s for sure. See, that’s why I wish I had a pair of wings. I want to feel free. I want to scatter brightly colored feathers for little girls to find in parks. Sparkle up their day a bit. Mostly, I want wings so that I could take flight. Leave behind my problems and soar into the sky. It’s why I love to go out on the roof. The wind blowing in my hair, the sun shining its beautiful rays down upon me. I pretend I’m flying for hours when I’m up there. Sometimes I linger on the ledge, arms spread as wide as an eagle. And I know one step is all it would take for me to finally, truly fly. One little step but… I never do. I always get scared and go back inside. Chained to the ground by everything I’ve got going for me. One day though, I’m gonna fly. I just need the courage to take that first step.
Third Place Winner!
By: Jonathan L. Age 10, Colleyville, Texas, USA
Description: A character describes his/her perfect day.
Wouldn’t it be great if every once in a while, we were guaranteed a perfect day? One amazingly perfect day. You know, when each piece fits together no matter how difficult the jigsaw puzzle of a day can be. The kind of day when from start to finish things just go that way. Your way. My day would be like this…When I am called on, I know the answer. And as a reward, no homework. When I go to lunch, who has all their favorites at their fingertips? (Points to self.) Me. It just gets better and better. Whose name does the coach actually get right? Who kicks a goal? Me. Whose mom is the first in the pick-up line? Whose mom bought a frozen drink and beef jerky! (Mouths “mine.”) It is a perfect day. And as I get into the car what happens, but my favorite song comes on! We breeze through traffic and when we get home, we don’t have any other plans. That means the afternoon is mine. Truly mine. I can play video games or watch YouTube and it doesn’t matter. And then dinner comes around and whose Dad grilled out and whose sister baked a cake? After dinner Dad’s like (In Dad’s voice.) ‘Let’s go to the movies – you pick, kid.’ Me! I never get to pick. It’s only on the one day that it happens when the stars line up and it ends up being perfect. Today has already been ruined because when I got downstairs for breakfast, my little brother had eaten the last of my favorite cereal. Maybe my perfect day will happen tomorrow. Just one day every once in a while. Is that really too much to ask?
Big Bad Red
By: Emma Farmer, Age 12, South Carolina, USA
Description: Little Red Riding Hood scares off the wolf.
(Little Red Riding Hood walks in place pantomiming holding a basket during this monologue.)
Why do I have to be the one to bring granny a basket of goodies? Why doesn’t my mom do it? It’s her mother after-all. I know why my mother doesn’t want to go. Truth is, granny is mean as a snake. I’m not even kidding. That crazy old woman made me scrub her floors with a toothbrush and cut her lawn with scissors. Did I mention that her property is two acres? I thought grannies were supposed to give you cookies and presents and kiss your scrapes and scratches. Last year, I broke my leg playing on the swing in her backyard. I screamed and she came running out the door asking if I was alright. I said, “I think I broke my leg” and what did she do? She said, “walk it off.” Um hold up, what? Yep that’s right. That woman broke my childhood. Whatever. Here we are. (Stops.) Wait. What’s that? Oh my god. There’s a wolf on her doorstep. He sees me. What do I do? What do I do? Don’t panic! (Looks down at her basket. Looks at the wolf. Hurls the basket at the wolf.) I can’t believe it! I just scared that wolf away! They should call me Big Bad Red from now on! (Pauses.) Oh no. The basket. He took the basket. I can’t go into granny’s house without that basket. Oh shoot! She just saw me, I have to go in. Hi, granny. (Waving through the window with gritted teeth.) This is going to be like stepping into a mine field. Well, here goes nothing.
By: Emma Tricarico, Age 9, Melbourne, Australia
Description: Pandora regrets opening the box and vows to do something about it.
Why did Zeus have to give me that box in the first place? (Pause.) What am I saying? It was all my fault. I was the one that opened the box. I should have known that it was full of nothing good. Now I’ve let all the diseases free. I don’t want to be known for a bad thing. I want to be known for good. Everybody always used to be happy. Now there is sickness and disease and I’m to blame. It was just too tempting. He gives me a box. A beautiful box. And then tells me not to open it! What use is a box if you can’t open it? Epimetheus says that I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. Anyone would have opened that box. But this happened to me, and not anybody else. I have to figure out why. What can I do? I’m just a lump of clay. Maybe there is a way I can help Hope. He’s just a little bug, out there on his own. I’m going to find him and help him become strong and powerful. I have to try. It’s the least I can do after I opened that stupid, annoying little box.
By: Aston Stroud, Age 12, South Carolina, USA
Description: Hansel tries to console his sister while they are lost in the woods.
(Calling out.) Dad? Dad? DAD! We are ready to go home now. Gretel, be quiet, I can’t think when you’re talking. Maybe dad’s just playing a game, like hide and seek or maybe he’s looking for us while we are looking for him. (Calling out.) Dad? (Pause.) Why do you think our stepmother told us to come out here and look for dad? Its creepy out here. Gretel, you don’t think that our stepmother brought us out here to get rid of us, do you? No, why would she want to get rid of us? I mean we follow her rules and are quiet, mostly. We don’t eat much anymore. Oh no, wait…we haven’t had enough food lately. Now that I’m saying it, it makes sense! Oh no, they’re trying to get rid of us. Where will we live? What will we do? Gretel, stop crying, it will be ok. (Pause.) Whoa, Gretel look at that. It’s a house, and I think it’s made of candy. In the middle of the woods, a candy house? Let’s go get some! (Pause.) Wait, why is there a lady staring at us through that window? Gretel, stop. Gretel, come back! Who is that in the window? Gretel, RUN!
The Emperor’s Makeover
By: Aubrey Schweder, Age 12, South Carolina, USA
Description: The Emperor’s barber plays a trick on him.
Okay, let’s see who is on the calendar today. Ugh, the Emperor. He drives me crazy. He’s always bragging about his good looks. I know. I’ll give him a fantabulous, splendid, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious makeover, that of course won’t actually be superb at all! Now to just wait for him to arrive (looks at watch.) It’s half past two, he should be here, ugh. Of course, he keeps me waiting! (pauses, waiting for emperor to arrive, paces around the room) Ahaaa, he’s here! I have to act natural of course. (Tries a few ‘natural’ poses.) Good afternoon emperor, come have a seat over here. I’ve decided that you may not look in a mirror, because you might be blinded by your own beauty. (Winks at audience.) Now, I’ll just rest these fresh cucumbers on your eyes, while I apply this mask to your face. Hmmm, now let’s see. I’ll start with your hair. (Whispers to audience) I’m shaving it all off. (Makes buzzing noise.) What? Noo I’m not shaving it all off emperor, it’s all part of my master plan. You’ll look more handsome than ever, I assure you. Now to do your eyebrows. (Makes buzzing noise.) Marvelous, and yes, while you were relaxing, I gave you a manicure and pedicure as well! Haha. Alright are you ready to see your makeover? Three, two, one…. Surprise! Oh, Your Highness, it will be all the rage. When people see it, everyone will be copying you! (Cups hand to ear.) Oh, I think someone’s calling me, got to run!
A Place to Hide
By: Lillian Orr, Age 12, South Carolina, USA
Description: Snow White explains her predicament to the seven dwarves.
Um, could you all stop staring at me please? It’s a little creepy. Look, I didn’t mean to trespass. I.I…was trying to get some rest. I was so tired last night. You see, my evil stepmother sent out her huntsman to try to try to kill me. What would you do if you were trying to escape with your life? I didn’t have a choice. I ran and ran and this was the first house I found. Honestly, this wasn’t what I was expecting. Everything is so tiny. Little beds, little chairs, little tables…. but, I don’t care, I just need somewhere to hide. My evil stepmother hates me because every time she talks to that stupid mirror, it always tells her that I’m the fairest in the land and goes on and on about my fair skin that’s white like snow and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. So, I guess she figured if I was dead, she would be the fairest and prettiest of them all. That’s why I’m here. I don’t even want to be the fairest of them all. I was so tired that I fell asleep in these beds. (Pause.) Maybe we can come up with a compromise. How about this: if you guys don’t tell anyone that I’m here, I will make meals for you, clean your cottage, mend your clothes, take care of you when you are sick, and this will be our little secret.
You’d Better Pay Me
By: Dillon Hammell, Age 12, South Carolina, USA
Description: The Pied Piper threatens the townspeople if the Mayor doesn’t pay him.
What do you mean you aren’t going to pay me? I just got rid of those rats for you. They won’t be back for a long time, if ever. So, where’s my money? What? This is a joke, right? I have a family to feed you know. You need to pay me now! I just single handedly went from town to town playing my flute and had an army of rats following me. I got rid of them all, every last one! If it wasn’t for me, then you people would have gotten a horrible plague that would have killed almost everyone. You need to know that there are more things I can do with this flute of mine. Since you were smart enough to hire me to take care of the rats then you should be smart enough to know that you should pay me unless you want something terrible to happen. Still not going to pay, huh? (Starts playing the flute.) Do you hear that? That thunder and lightning surrounding us? That’s the magic starting to work. Say goodbye to your children. (He grins and starts playing the flute again.)
By: Josh Escapite, Age 12, South Carolina, USA
Description: Papa Bear asks a police officer to arrest an intruder.
You need to arrest her, officer. I mean this Goldilocks person, she walked right into our house like it was hers. She ate the porridge that Mama Bear made for us. She was soooooo hungry. She could have just eaten one bowl but noooo she had to find the perfect one so she ate them all. And she didn’t even bring the dishes to the sink! Then she went to take a nap in our beds she messed all three of them up. Sat in all the chairs and broke one, and didn’t clean up. Who does this sort of thing?! I think she should have to pay a big fine. Actually, she probably doesn’t care about what she did. Fining her isn’t enough, I want her in jail so she can think about her behavior! Yes, ARREST GOLDILOCKS! ARREST HER!
Flat Out Naked
By: Chloe Biddle, Age 12, South Carolina, USA
Description: The Emperor finally realizes that he doesn’t have any clothes on.
What do you mean I don’t have any clothes on? No, you know what I think? I think that you aren’t gifted enough to see my magnificent clothes. My clothes are so elegant that only truly special people can see them, and by what I can see, you, young lad are not special in the slightest. (Boy keeps trying to convince emperor.) Please, spare me the talking. I do in fact have clothes on, you are just trying to trick me. Why don’t you run home to your mother before I decide to throw you in the dungeon! (Pause.) What’s that? You want me to look down? Fine. If it will humor you. I’ll look down just this once—–oh, my word. You’re right. I’m not wearing any clothes. Why did no one inform me of this? Where are my noblemen? My traitorous citizens didn’t tell me I am flat-out naked! Well, young man, on the positive side, everyone gets to witness my magnificent physique. Please, refrain from the compliments. I know, I know. Everyone is jealous of my spectacular body. (Whispers.) Let’s pretend this never happened.
Breaking up with Hook
By: Justin Accord, Age 12, South Carolina, USA
Description: Peter Pan ends his rivalry with Captain Hook to spend more time with Wendy.
Captain Hook, I’m so sorry but I have something to tell you. What we have is not working out. It’s not you, it’s me. There are too many things in the way of our hatred to keep it going strong. I want to spend more time with this girl named Wendy. She has all these great stories, and she takes care of me and the lost boys. She thinks us fighting gets in the way of me spending time with her. Plus, Tink and Wendy have been fighting a lot, I have to watch Tink at all times, she is always trying to mess with Wendy. So, I just don’t have any time to battle with you anymore. (Pause.) I know, I am going to miss fighting with you to. I hope we can still be enemies. We have had so many memories together. Remember that time I cut off your hand?! (Beat.) too soon? Ok, well this is getting pretty awkward so I’m just going to go. Bye Hook.
Under my Bed
Third Place Winner
By: Patrick O., Victoria, BC, Age 12
Sam is a mostly harmless creature who lives under my bed. He’s covered in fuzz and he’s sort of a grayish brownish color. He makes himself invisible to my mom, which doesn’t matter because she doesn’t think he’s real anyway. He likes to tickle my toes when I stand at the edge of the bed at night, so I usually run from the door and jump on my bed when it’s bedtime. Sam likes candy, so I try to give him some as often as possible. I have to sneak it out of the kitchen, though, because I’m not supposed to have very much candy and my mom would NOT believe that it’s actually for Sam. He only lets me pet him when I give him candy. Most of the time, he just sleeps. However…and this is the bad thing about Sam…he likes to play tricks on me when it’s dark. He makes little thumping noises that keep me awake. He can also imitate monsters by making shadows in the room. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and get scared by the monster shadows and then I remember that it’s just Sam and I can hear him giggling in the corner by the window. I tell him that it’s NOT funny, and I try to go back to sleep. Sam is only scared of one thing, and that’s part of the reason why he doesn’t like my mom. Just like the cats, he hates the vacuum cleaner. I can tell when my mom has vacuumed under my bed because when I get home from school, Sam is a lump underneath my bedspread. I think it’s funny that strange creatures who try to scare you can get scared too.
Third Place Winner
By: Hiro Nguyen; Corpus Christi, Texas, USA, Age 11
Description: A kid resists the urge to kill a bug.
I thought about smashing it, but then I remembered how bad I felt when I accidentally/on-purpose flushed my goldfish down the toilet. I thought I was setting him free. Free to swim out into the great wide ocean. My mom was pretty upset and she told me that the toilet water does not, in fact, lead to the ocean. So, I just sat there watching the little gray bug. They are called potato bugs. I don’t know why. I couldn’t resist. I poked him and he curled into a ball. After a minute or two, he opened back up and carried on his way. I wondered where he was headed. Maybe he was going home to his family who lives in a tiny hole in the earth. I wondered what it would be like to be that small. A pine needle would be like a log. A rock, like a mountain. My friend Keegan would have smashed him for sure. He likes to squish bugs to see what’s inside. But I left that bug alone. Instead, I laid down on the mossy ground and imagined life as a bug.
Third Place Winner
By: Amelia S., Houston, Texas, USA, Age 10
Description: A fork proclaims superiority over the other utensils.
As a fork, I can proudly say that we are the superior utensils. I was talking to spoon the other day and she was all braggy about how they used her for soup AND ice cream the other night. Pffft. That’s nothin. I have the ability to STAB and POKE and SPEAR. Spoon said, “Oh yeah, what about stirring?” Well, I can do that too. Yesterday morning, the big lady human used me to stir cream into her coffee, and it wasn’t just because all the spoons were dirty like spoon said. Knives? Well, they generally keep quiet because we all know they have anger problems. Especially the steak knives. Forks are the friendliest. Everyone knows that. Oops. Gott run. Gonna get used again. Yum, pancakes!
No More Sisters…Please.
By: Karen Anne K., Carman, Manitoba, Canada, Age 13
Description: A daughter tries to talk her mom out of having another baby.
I know that you were a one and only child, mom, and you always wanted a brother or sister when you were a kid. But you did not know what you were wishing for. Thanks to you, I have two older sisters, and believe me; I do not want another one. Sure, I would not mind being an older sister for once, but I already have enough problems with my other two sisters. Lena may be the oldest, but she is not the boss of me even though she is convinced she is. Yes, I know she seems nice and sweet and innocent, but I can prove that wrong. I saw her kissing Joshua on the sidewalk outside our house last night. She makes me keep her secrets by threatening to smother me with a pillow while I’m sleeping. And Stacy isn’t much better. You know that report card she brought home? That was fake. I saw her skipping math class to hang out with her friends and she stole my diary to keep me quiet. I wanna know why you can’t figure these things out. I mean, there is no way that she could have gotten 149% in math. Sure, they say that the oldest kids are the smartest, but I’m proof that the scientists are wrong. So, I hope that you just gained a few pounds or are just bloated or something because if there is a baby in that stomach of yours. I may have to go find different parents who will let me be their one and only child.
Dog Ate my Homework
By: Cadence K., Carman, Manitoba, Canada, Canada, Age 12
Description: A student tells his (or her) teacher the truth about a missing homework assignment.
I’m sorry. I don’t have my math homework, Mrs. Williams. I have a really good reason. You might think I’m lying, but I’m not. Everybody thinks that when you dog eats your homework you are for sure lying, and you just didn’t get it done, but what if your dog actually eats your homework? Then what do you do? That’s what happened to my homework. Our tiny evil poodle ate it. We have to be careful in our house because that poof-ball, who only likes my mother, eats everything, including gross stuff out of the cat box. So, I got home and I set my homework on the table and I went to get some graham crackers and milk. After that, my brother wanted to play hoops in the driveway and he never wants me to play with him, so I did. When I got back inside, my homework was chewed up on the floor and the Devil Dog was hiding under the sofa. So, that’s it. My real story about how my dog actually did eat my homework.
I Hate Barney
By: Tyler W., Carman, Manitoba, Canada, Age 12
Description: A character has a theory about Barney the purple dinosaur.
I hate Barney! I hate his phony, “I love you, you love me” act. Why does he keep making small children love him? If you ask me, he’s a creep. No, I’m serious. And what is a purple dinosaur doing in the 21st century in the first place? What time did he come from? The Jurassic, late cretaceous period? I don’t buy it. I know he’s just a forty-year-old guy in a… wait, I think I’m starting to understand…Barney is purple. Purple is the color of some flowers. Flowers have petals and so do bikes. Bikes are a type of transportation, and so is a car. A jet is also a type of transportation and Area 51 is where they test jets. Area 51 is also where they experiment on aliens. Oh my God, Barney is an alien! I have to go. I have to tell the authorities! Wait a minute, who’s there? Show yourself. Oh my God. Aaaaaahhhhhh!
By: Sadie de la Cruz, Albuquerque, New Mexico, USA, Age 15
Description: A disappointed actor tries to get a bigger part in a play.
I love theatre, even though I’m shy. So, I auditioned for our spring play called “The King.” Mrs. Lopez gave everyone parts, but because she knows I’m shy, she gave me a very small role. My line is to say “nah” after the king says his line “Bow before me”. After that one word, I was done for the whole play. I literally just say “nah” and then walk off stage. Seriously? Well, obviously, you can see how that might bother me. So, I went to Mrs. Lopez and demanded she give me a new part. She had no choice but to give me a new role! Ok… I admit it. That’s not actually how it happened. I did go to my teacher, and I politely asked her for a new role. But she would not budge. She said that I was a perfect match for the part and that it was a very important part. I was so disappointed, but I understood. I had to play that part, but I needed a plan. I knew if Mrs. Lopez saw how good of an actor I was, she would have no choice but to change my part! So, I continued to say my line “nah” but in different accents, making it more interesting. (Improvise different ways of saying, “nah.”) I think she liked it because she told me she’d change my character. I was so happy! Now, it’s the day of the play, and I am playing a bush who does not talk or act. At all. I guess she didn’t like it.
By: Logan L., Green Bay, Wisconsin, USA, Age 17
Description: A kid makes a confession about their secret love.
There is something that I’ve been hiding from everyone I know. It has been on my mind a lot so I want to get it off my chest. I know this obsession may be overboard, but it is a part of me. It’s been bottled up inside of me for too long because I wasn’t sure what people would think. I have a forbidden love, the kind of love that is not supposed to exist. Some say that this love isn’t natural, but it is everything I need and more. Many people say that it has to be a man and a woman that fall in love, but to those people I say that love wins. I love the warmth that my love gives me; it is very sweet and comforting. I cannot achieve this kind of love with anything else. There is no breaking me apart from my beloved. I don’t care what anyone else thinks anymore because I have found love. So, this is me announcing my love to the world; I love pancakes. Pancakes love me too. The connection that I share with pancakes cannot be compared to anything else. This is not lust; this is pure love in its purest form. If you look at my eyes whenever I see a pancake you may notice that my eyes twitch. Pancakes understand me for who I am; they complete me. The soft and chewy cake is all I need in my life; and now the world knows that I am proud to be a pancake lover!
By: Molly McKenna., Green Bay, Wisconsin, USA, Age 17
Description: A student panics while taking a test.
The white clock on the wall is mocking me. Counting down the minutes until I fail this test. It makes no sense. Hey, why aren’t there any posters hung up in Ms. Daniel’s room? I never noticed that before. I need something to take my mind off this paper. This paper that will destroy my GPA. Oh my god…I’m grinding my teeth. I never grind my teeth. Wow. Look how interesting this pencil looks when I twirl it. Why is the second hand on that clock moving so slowly? And how is everyone else still working on this test? I can’t make sense of it. I read the novel, but this question doesn’t make any sense. Look at Hanna. Furiously scribbling. I hate her. She knows the answers to everything. Ms. Daniels is reading a book. Really? At a time like this, she is just sitting there reading? She’s mean. Whoa. There’s the bell. My paper is still blank. I think I’m going to have a heart attack. Great. Everyone’s getting ready to go. I’d better turn in my paper. But really, what’s the point? It’s blank. I guess I’ll just turn it in. Wait, what? Ms. Daniels is going to grade our papers right now? How can she do that? I think I’m going to turn to stone. She’s making everyone sit back down. Why is she shuffling through the papers so fast? Wait, she stopped on one. I think it’s mine. Here we go. My heart’s pounding through my chest. She’s going to announce to everyone that I’ve failed. Wait, what? I am the only one who passed? It was a test to see if we could read directions, and it said not to write anything down? Ha! Take that, Hannah! Take that, clock!
A Short Monologue
By: Lauren H., Indianapolis, Indiana, USA, Age 16
Description: A teen expresses the frustrations of being vertically challenged.
Last night my world was shattered. I realized that my younger brother, Colin, is taller than me. He was like “Ha, ha. I’m taller than you, little hobbit.” Shut Up Colin! No one understands the daily struggles of being short. People use your head as an armrest, like ALL the time. I’m not an armrest, I’M A HUMAN BEING! People also assume you’re like five or six years younger than you are. When I went to the Ferris wheel, they asked if I wanted the twelve and under ticket. TWELVE AND UNDER!!!! I’M SIXTEEN. People always feel the need to point out how short you are. Like “Wow, you’re like three feet tall.” NO I’M 5 FOOT ONE QUARTER, idiot. Then they’re like “Oh, you can just wear high heels” which is great advice because I love wearing shoes that make my feet feel like they’re on fire. People also taunt you by holding things above your head or putting them on a high shelf. I really want to strangle each and every tall person but to do so I would NEED A STEPLADDER!!!!!!
By: Samantha R., Bluffton, South Carolina, USA, Age 12
Description: Being a ghost isn’t easy, especially when you are a teen spirit.
You should be happy you’re a human. I mean, it’s not easy being a ghost. First off, everything I hold just falls through my hands, which is no help. When I try to eat or drink anything, it lands on the floor. When I try to be normal, kids just scream and run away. It’s not my fault I died. One time it was the first day of school and I got expelled because I was “too scary for the children.” How are they supposed to live life if they don’t face their fears? Maybe I was trying to teach them a life lesson. Then when I try to be scary, teens laugh and think I’m a projection. One girl even asked me how much the projector was. Don’t even get me started about babies who cry no matter what I do. Yesterday, I saw a help-wanted sign over at the amusement park. They need help in the haunted house. Now, there’s a place where my skills can come in handy!
By: Rebecca S., Indianapolis, Indiana, USA, Age 17
Description: A teen expresses her feelings about her best friend.
Best friend? Well, I’ve never been much for friends. My intense competitive spirit, social anxiety, fear of the cafeteria and awkward sense of humor tend to work against me. But strangely, the one friend I have come to entrust this weird title was once my arch nemesis. Of course, she had no clue. In fourth and fifth grade Angela had a cubby right next to mine. She had lots of friends and took the ‘Nicest Student’ award away from me in the fifth grade, and I was so angry that I squeezed glue in her cubby, which showed how nice I really was. Yeah, Angela deserved the award. She’s someone who has my back when I say, “back me up.” She laughs at my hilarious jokes when everyone else randomly forgets how to laugh. She takes me to a world where awkward moments don’t exist and jealousy is something to joke about and fights never happen (and if they do I don’t remember them). Best Friend? Nah. Angela and I are more like sisters.
Bippity Boppity Bam
Third Place Winner
By: Kathleen H., Bluffton, South Carolina, USA, Age 11
Description: Gertrude, the daughter of Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother, is upset that she is not getting the attention she (in her mind) deserves.
Bippity, boppity, bam! Hi, my name is Gertrude and I’m the daughter of the Fairy Godmother. Want to know why my name is so bad? It’s because mommy was too busy making little old Cinderella’s dreams come true to think of a good name for me. Oh, and does mommy give me a beautiful dress, a prince to dance with at a ball, or glass slippers? NO! All she gives me is a big fat pile of chores. I don’t even have magic. Mommy says its skips a generation, so I can’t point at my feet and hope to see a pair of glass slippers. Here, I’ll show you. Bippity, Boppity, bam! Whoa! There’s a pair of glass slippers on my feet! I guess magic doesn’t skip generation after all. Mommy was wrong. It wasn’t the first time that’s for sure. I wonder if that Prince Charming guy is still available. If not there may just have to be a magical interference between the prince and Miss Cinderella. Now what was his number?
My Death Ride
By: Diego R., Modesto, CA USA
Description: A teen tells a story to his parents so as not to get in trouble.
Hi mom. Hi dad. It’s not my fault I wrecked the car. The truth is I was driving like any regular day to the movies. I made a turn then the next thing I knew I was in the woods. Then a bear ran in front of the car. To not hit it I made a sharp turn causing me to swerve in to a tree. Then a gang approached me on their motorcycles with crow bars and guns. I had to do quick thinking. Luckily, a weirdo came by scaring off the gang. He looked like Donald Trump and the Devil had a baby. Then, all of a sudden, I was in Hawaii so I kept driving when I noticed a plane spiraling from the sky, headed straight for me. The, get this. I crashed on the moon and the stupid moon junk broke the window. Then I was in the North Pole when, out of the blue, Santa’s work shop appeared. I lost control of the car, went through the building, and ran over half the elves and Mrs. Claus. I`m for sure on the naughty list this year. Next, I was on an iceberg. A polar bear came by and tried to bite my face off, I mean it had its jaw around my face. Then suddenly I was in assassin`s creed, the video game. How did that happen? The guards saw me and came after me, and I tried to drive but the wheels were stuck in a something that seemed to be pulling the car apart. Next, think I knew, I was trapped in the year 1720 and Cinderella was standing in the middle of the road. I think when I hit her with the car, it suddenly spit me back into the present. So, you are really lucky that I am back with you now, and that all that’s wrong is that there are a few dings on the car.
Every Flavor of the Rainbow
By: Georgia E. Alberta, Canada, Age 13
Description: An ice cream flavor is having an identity crisis.
Hi, I’m Neapolitan. (Smirks at audience, winking flirtatiously.) I come from a mixed family, my mom’s like half cherry, dad’s rocky road. It makes me a whole lot of chunky, with a side of smooth. (Looks around, pause.) What was I talking about… Oh yeah, people ask what my biggest flaw is… I guess I’m just too strong. They just can’t take all this flavor, you know? (Gestures to entire body. Pauses.) It’s hard for me, you know? (Tone switches, slightly hesitant.) I have no idea who I am. My one aunt is certain I’m Vanilla, my uncle thinks I’m chocolate. But I’m strawberry too right? In the freezer section, the flavors pretty much stick to their own kind. Vanilla with Vanilla and Chocolate with Chocolate. They never accept me the way I am. That’s okay, though. I’m going to be myself even if they don’t accept me. I’ll scoop out my own sorta life. Maybe I’ll travel the kitchen, see the counter… visit the tower of pizza. We all need to accept who we are, like that Miss Strawberry chic. She’s natural, and I respect that. Even if she stalks me day and night. It’s kinda’ creepy… I can’t even re-freeze without being sure she’s not looking. But hey, at least she’s not one of those dairy-free flavors. I don’t buy that for a second.
So Close to Ten
By: Alyse D., Bluffton, South Carolina, Age 11
Description: Alyse has been putting off riding a roller coaster for too long. So today she will ride. Whether Alyse enjoys the ride or not remains to be seen.
You want to hear about the scariest experience of my life? It happened on a roller coaster. Strapped in tightly, I looked up at the tall menacing incline of the Rip Rocket. The harsh winds blew in my face and made my hair knotty as I checked my belt for the fiftieth time. Why did I have to do this? Why did I have to ride my first roller coaster… today? I was this close to making it through my single-digit years without riding one. I didn’t agree to it, but, according to my dad, “It’s time.” I didn’t like it, but he was right. My sisters rode their first roller coaster way before me. Even though I didn’t want to at first, I’m glad I did. Universal was a lot more fun now that I rode coasters. When we reached the coaster, my grandma asked me the long-asked question. “Alyse, are you going to go on?” Of course I said no, but apparently they didn’t hear me, because they shoved me into the line! First, we went up a mountain of steep, grimy, paralyzing steps, flinching after each thump on the concrete. Next, we got into the depressingly short loading line, and there it was. That rickety paint-chipped cart would be the last thing I would ever see. It was our turn. We crawled in and I could hear the screams of the past riders. I embraced the feeling that I would soon be at peace. “3, 2, 1…Off you go!” The cart lurched, and the screams of the past were now my own. “I love roller coasters!!!”
I Cannot Wait!
By: Bella J., Elesmere, Kentucky, USA, Age 11
Description: A student can’t wait to start at their new school.
I know, I know, mom. It’s time to get up. I cannot wait to go to school today. Today is my first day at St. James. I wonder what class I am in. I wonder who I will meet. I hope I will make lots of friends. I hope I will like my teacher. What am I going to wear? Jeans? No. Too casual. Black pants with this cool shirt. No, I’ll look like a waiter. I know. My favorite sweater! Does my hair look alright? I wish it was longer. I hope I can make friends easily like I did at the last school. Oh my goodness. Why am I worrying? There is nothing to be worried about. -I am sure I will have a great day! OMG! I am going to be late! I’d better go to school now. Bye mom. I am going to catch the bus. I’ll tell you about my day after school.
By: Valeria Barajas, Grand Prairie, TX, USA, Age 12
Description: A student uses color to describe gender identity.
You know what bothers me? Certain colors… Blue and pink they bother me. Blue for boys or pink for girls, it’s a stereotype. If you’re a guy then blue strictly, and if you’re a girl its pink… but what if I don’t want to think of it like that? I’m purple; I am yellow, I am green. Cause I am my own shade of pink, I am magenta. Cause I am my own shade of blue, I am turquoise. We are our own shade of ANY and EVERY color. WE are the rainbow. All of us are different and stereotyping girls and guys gets us nowhere. I am red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet. I am the rainbow, I AM ME.
By: Sofia C., Modesto, California, USA
Description: A student finds a threatening note stashed in their backpack.
(Digging into backpack.) What’s this? (Pulls out a crumpled note and unfolds it.) I can barely read this sloppy handwriting. (Reading.) Watch your back… I know what you did. (Beat.) What could I have possibly done and to who? What are they talking about? Why is this note in my backpack? I can’t believe someone had the nerve to do this. Wait, what if they know that I skipped school last week. But no one knew about that, not even my best friend. Or could it be that time I copied all of Jacob’s answers on the math test. Why would someone want to get me in trouble? I just want to go home! BUT… I can’t let some nobody get in my head. What if it’s not just a nobody, what if it’s someone I care about. I’ll ask my friends if they know anything about the note. But wait… I can’t do that, then everyone will know that I did something horrible. I guess I will just have to shut up and act normal. Would that be possible? If I can…I’ll just keep acting like nothing happened. And in the meantime, I will trust no one!