Jun 28, 2011

English Language AS Exam: Section A – Question 2

By Adeel Raza

Q: Write a monologue call ‘The Serial Killer’ in which the thoughts of a murderer are revealed at a crucial
point in his/her life.

Don’t you just love the way it feels when you kill a person? The light heartedness when you let all of those pent up emotions loose and make a meal of the kill. The hunger pangs relieved with a delicious VIP murder. Yeah, it’s true. In a few hours the fuzz will get a call into their station with another hysterical loony on the line screaming that someone’s been chopped into pieces. Then they’ll drop the doughnuts they stuff themselves with and haul their lazy selves to the scene of the crime. The scene of my work. My art. Oh, how I’d love to see it all happening. Hahaha, the looks on their faces would be priceless.

But anyway, silly of me to waste my time enjoying the smaller things in life when I’ve got bigger things cooking. Oh yeah. This time I’m doing it big. Really big. By the time I’m done it’ll make Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid roll over in their graves and Sweeney Todd will look like all he ever did was give someone a bad haircut. Hell, they’ll even put the earthquake on priority two and me on one. Now that’s what I’m talking about!

That would sound cool. ‘Dine and dash murderer’ put on priority one. Code red declared in the city and all that worthless jazz they enforce in this hell-hole. Fact is, I’m still going to kill people whether they barricade their homes with titanium plates or stuff themselves in a quarantine bunker underground. Because I’ve got to keep myself satisfied and I ain’t stopping because the prey here is too damn fun.

But seriously. I’ve got to consider it some time. I keep telling myself that, but even I know that tomorrow when I slice the head off of that nigger-hating, money stealing, smooth talking senator McCain, I’ll be in for one hell of a chase.

And then there’s Jen. Oh, dear, sweet beautiful Jen. She’s the love of my life and she doesn’t even know the first part of me, much less the second, cold blooded murderer that dwells inside me too. She’s noticed things about me. More than once. Like how I like my meat bloody and how I sneak off in the night sometimes for a ‘smoke’. And that one time when I almost strangled her in my sleep. But she refuses to see past this façade I put on. I know I’d never hurt her on purpose, but sometimes my destructive urges get out of hand and I’m scared I might let loose the dine and dash murderer on her, and lose the one thread that I’m hanging by.

But I’ve thought about it; long and hard. Where it’s headed with her. What I’m going to do. And I’ve come to a conclusion now. See, as much as I know I’m this monster by night, I love her too much to let that be the only side of me. Her and I, we both have our baggage. Our closed off pasts. And it is that reason that we both connect so well. We’re both damaged on the inside. But I know we can fix each other. Or at least try to. And that’s why I’m going to pop the question tomorrow.

Yeah, I’m going to ask her to marry me.

So I guess you could say tomorrow’s a big day. Ask Jen to be my lawfully wedded wife in the day. Kill senator McCain and spread his body out over the front lawn of the town house by night. And then give the dine and dash murderer a much deserved time off with the love of his life in a lovely beachside hut in Tahiti.

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. But will you please grant your blessings to this couple-to-be and make sure everything goes alright tomorrow?


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