We Need To Go Home Scout Monologue

“We need to go home, Ma” I whispered to my mother in an unnecessarily aggravated tone. I clung to her as another man threw a slur at me. “Goddamn Domino,” he said, conspicuously rearranging the lettering of my name and not forgetting to spit at my feet afterwards. I felt my face engulf in heat, assaulted by feelings of humiliation and rage. I clenched my fists, but then I looked up at my mother and her expression assuaged my resentment. She seemed so contrite, and I knew it was because of me. I felt a stab of guilt - she didn’t deserve this...she didn’t deserve me. I was the one who didn’t fit in, not her. I beamed at her in hope that it would rid of the guilt apparent on her face. To my relief, she reciprocated the smile. I placed my pale
I met him in town one day. He was walking with his little sister, Scout, and he was the only one who greeted me as if I fit in. He invited me to his house for dinner that day, and although hesitant, I was desperate for a friend, so I accepted his offer. His personality was fascinating, and I started to look up to him. He looked past my race and my complexion. He saw past everything and into my heart. He saw me for who I was rather than what society had defined me as.
My thoughts ceased when I saw my father. I jumped off the porch and launched myself at him.
“Pa, can you take me to Jem’s house again?” I asked eagerly.
He chuckled, “Okay Domion, but only for a little while. I don’t want you troubling the Finches okay,” he requested.
“Of course I won’t trouble them, Pa,” I said, confused as to why he would ask such an irrational question, “I would never do that, Pa.”
His eyes wandered over my face for a while. Then, a smile tugged his lips and he said, “Alright then, my little gentleman, let’s go!”
I followed him to his car. Its red paint glistened. Of course it did, my father was prosperous and wealthy. He owned all one side of the riverbank and was from an old family to boot. I jumped in and sat in the passenger seat as Dolphus started the
He didn’t find any interest in the opinions of others, he always stuck with his own opinions and way of thinking. His family was the only one I didn’t find affected by the ‘Maycomb disease’. It was because each one of them had discovered themselves - even Scout. She was so young in age, yet she acted as if she was a lady too mature for her ears. She was kind to me and talked with an air of maturity. The maturity of the two was astonishing. Jem and Scout saw Mrs. Dubose’s courage and beauty through her repulsive and rude nature. They saw Tom Robinson’s innocence and affection through the layers of dark skin that enveloped him. They saw Arthur Radley through the myths and legends that came to define