all about a young girl
Zainab Oyemade
Theater
Monologue
The building I used to live in was beautiful safe and since it was a bit old everyone knew each other. I lived there for 6 years so I considered everyone there my distant family. We all did our laundry at the same Laundromat, shopped for groceries at the same place and most of the kids went to the same school in the neighborhood. I didn’t appreciate the door man in my building who would be there every day all the time to help me with the door or packages, the elderly Liberian who used to watch after me at the library I grew up at as a child, My neighbors borrowing me items I was so too lazy to go buy myself I didn’t appreciate the train being so close to me, the friendly man at the super market, Or My building and all it meant to me. But after my house burned down on July 26 I appreciated it all.
I’ve tried but I will never forget the day my life changed. It was 8 or 9 am, Can’t remember the exact time but I was up early which wasn’t regular. Being it was my summer vacation I usually woke up at any time after 12 because I was up the night before writing poems and listening to my iPod. For some reason my mom woke me up to go buy her fruit, a task she usually completed on her own. When I came back I put the fruit in the kitchen and my mom was still in her towel sitting on the bed we shared. In between our conversations 2 loud bangs distracted us both; my Mom panicked which humored me. Considering the fact that we lived across the street from a hospital and our building had unneeded cameras all over the place I found my mom’s reaction funny because we where more than safe I believed. Just when I calmed her down we heard glass breaking. To this day I remember the sound, I looked out my window to see about 8 fire fighters breaking every single window in their sight yelling ‘’fire everyone get out now’’. I grabbed my phone iPod and my mom’s handbag while she got dressed the fastest she’s ever got dressed. Our escape door thanks
Theater
Monologue
The building I used to live in was beautiful safe and since it was a bit old everyone knew each other. I lived there for 6 years so I considered everyone there my distant family. We all did our laundry at the same Laundromat, shopped for groceries at the same place and most of the kids went to the same school in the neighborhood. I didn’t appreciate the door man in my building who would be there every day all the time to help me with the door or packages, the elderly Liberian who used to watch after me at the library I grew up at as a child, My neighbors borrowing me items I was so too lazy to go buy myself I didn’t appreciate the train being so close to me, the friendly man at the super market, Or My building and all it meant to me. But after my house burned down on July 26 I appreciated it all.
I’ve tried but I will never forget the day my life changed. It was 8 or 9 am, Can’t remember the exact time but I was up early which wasn’t regular. Being it was my summer vacation I usually woke up at any time after 12 because I was up the night before writing poems and listening to my iPod. For some reason my mom woke me up to go buy her fruit, a task she usually completed on her own. When I came back I put the fruit in the kitchen and my mom was still in her towel sitting on the bed we shared. In between our conversations 2 loud bangs distracted us both; my Mom panicked which humored me. Considering the fact that we lived across the street from a hospital and our building had unneeded cameras all over the place I found my mom’s reaction funny because we where more than safe I believed. Just when I calmed her down we heard glass breaking. To this day I remember the sound, I looked out my window to see about 8 fire fighters breaking every single window in their sight yelling ‘’fire everyone get out now’’. I grabbed my phone iPod and my mom’s handbag while she got dressed the fastest she’s ever got dressed. Our escape door thanks